In Warhammer, My System is Minecraft-Chapter 142: The Golden Sarcophagus, Resting Place of Sanguinius
The Nether Dragon was currently in its adolescent stage. Its body was about three times the size of Zeke, just barely large enough to support him.
Its scales gleamed in the sunlight, wings folded at its sides, and a pair of slit pupils lazily stared at the Grim Reaper in the sky.
In the Ice and Fire mod, a dragon hatched from an egg would directly recognize the player who placed the egg as its master. Zeke didn’t need to perform any other taming actions.
Zeke mounted the Nether Dragon. Not only was it a bit hot, but its back was covered in many metallic bone spikes that poked his butt when he sat—absolute torture.
He pulled out a saddle and placed it under his rear, drank a Fire Resistance potion, and patted his buddy’s neck.
"Let’s go!"
Moo, moo. The Nether Dragon flapped its wings downwards, whipping up a strong gale.
Cow, who was surrounded by Blood Angels and at a loss for what to do, saw the silhouette taking off into the horizon. She forcefully squeezed her way out and ran wildly.
What about me? I haven’t gotten on board yet!
"Didn’t you already take a ride earlier, Cow? Now it’s my turn to play."
Zeke waved downward, withdrew his gaze, and focused his attention on the dragon’s back.
As soon as he took to the air, he felt a bizarre sensation: he could control the Nether Dragon’s flight direction at will.
It wasn’t the kind of control where you shouted commands like "go left, go right," but a control akin to telepathy.
Just by thinking of the corresponding action in his mind, the dragon would react precisely, like an extension of his own body.
This was likely a Minecraft characteristic.
In the Minecraft world, when a player rides a mob, the directional control is done directly via the keyboard, and that control directly acts upon the mob’s movement logic.
Zeke took out his Netherite Lance. The Nether Dragon’s high-speed flight perfectly matched the lance’s trait.
The Grim Reaper was leisurely ascending high into the sky, searching for souls worth reaping.
Zeke controlled the dragon, adjusted the angle, and dove down!
The Daemon Engine on the Nether Dragon’s back spewed flames, plunging toward the Grim Reaper like a meteor and streaking past it.
Zeke found the right moment and thrust his lance, the spear striking like a dragon.
Carrying the terrifying speed of the Nether Dragon’s dive, the Netherite Lance dealt 70 points of damage.
Good damage, and the Nether Dragon’s mobility was very high. Striking and running, employing hit-and-run tactics, the Grim Reaper couldn’t even touch them.
Zeke circled in the air, adjusted his angle again, and after a few passes, beat the Grim Reaper into a sorry state.
The only move that could be considered a threat was the attack that called down dozens of lightning bolts.
But as an adolescent dragon, the Nether Dragon already had 300 HP.
Not to mention Zeke; the high defense and Regeneration of the Armor of Fate allowed him to completely ignore the lightning.
The Grim Reaper’s body turned into white smoke, and a scythe dropped down. The dragon swooped past, and Zeke sucked Death’s Scythe into his inventory.
Death’s Scythe. 32 durability. Reaps souls, resurrects the dead.
Coincidentally, Warhammer also had a god of death named Ynnead, the Aeldari’s last hope against Slaanesh.
In the past, the Aeldari did not die in the true sense; their souls would take a lap in the Warp and then reincarnate.
However, the birth of Slaanesh changed everything. From the moment the Great God of Perversion was born, It vacuumed up the vast majority of Aeldari souls and claimed monopoly rights over them.
It acted like a creepy stalker, constantly lying in wait for the Aeldari who luckily survived, snatching their souls the moment they died. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞
The Aeldari were suffering unspeakably. They dreamed of resurrecting their own god of death to brutally torture Slaanesh. The group of Aeldari who had previously rushed to Guilliman’s shrine with Zeke harbored exactly this goal.
–
Zeke controlled the Nether Dragon to land on the ground. The Nether Dragon found Cow again, and the two little guys started playing around.
The Nether Dragon looked ferocious, but perhaps because it spent most of its time with Cow, it didn’t look like a Chaos creature at all. Instead, it felt... a bit goofy.
As long as those two were having fun. Zeke stroked the sharp blade of Death’s Scythe in his hand, feeling the heart-palpitating aura emanating from it.
Zeke then used Emeralds and Tyranid biomass to craft a few Villager spawn eggs.
The summoned Villagers were just like the ones in Minecraft—derpy and only capable of grunting "hrrm."
Cornering a Villager, Zeke granted him the peace of death. Death’s Scythe reaped his soul, completing the charge.
Seeing this, Zeke breathed a sigh of relief. If Villagers could serve as kindling, that was naturally the best.
Let me see what you can do.
With the materials for Sanguinius’s resurrection ready, Zeke found Guilliman in the area of Mount Seraph.
The crypt was located in this region, guarded by the Librarius of the Blood Angels, a place thick with Librarian towers.
Dante walked silently at the very front. He looked to be in an extremely foul mood. Behind him was Zeke, and behind Zeke was Guilliman.
Bringing up the rear was Chief Librarian Mephiston.
At Guilliman’s request, the number of people heading to the Great Tomb this time was very small. Zeke gave Guilliman a side-eye. This guy isn’t planning to use force, is he?
Before reaching Sanguinius’s crypt, they had to pass through a place called the Ossuary.
This steel-paved corridor was so narrow it was only three times the width of Zeke’s shoulders.
What was worse was that the walls on both sides held hundreds of skulls. The skulls mostly belonged to highly decorated Blood Angels, permitted to be interred in a place close to the Primarch’s remains.
Dante led the procession, the lighting making his polished golden armor gleam brilliantly.
Zeke looked at the remains covering the walls. As long as there was a body and the soul hadn’t completely dissipated, Death’s Scythe could resurrect them.
Given enough time, Zeke could pull all these ghostly remains back to life, instantly returning the Blood Angels to their absolute prime.
I’ve become a necromancer.
Dante approached the massive circular door at the end of the Ossuary. In the exact center of the door was a fist-sized hole. Dante thrust his hand inside.
With a sharp clinking sound, metal probes pierced out from the internal mechanism, clamping tightly onto his forearm.
"I am Dante," he said to the air. "In the name of Sanguinius, know me."
The door opened.
The flat roof above gave way to a vaulted dome covered in exquisite frescoes, while the center was an open-air crypt. A ramp sloped downward along the wall, forming a spiral walkway leading to the grand and holy resting place at the very bottom.
Zeke walked down the spiral walkway for about half an hour before finally reaching the bottom.
"These are all necessary measures. The Great Tomb was once attacked by traitors. We strengthened the defensive measures and lengthened the path to the crypt," Dante said.
The center of the Great Tomb was carved from three towering blocks of red granite.
These three blocks of granite symbolized the birth, childhood, and adulthood of Sanguinius.
In the center of the grand hall, a massive statue of the Angel was the most striking feature.
The wings of the statue—every single feather—were crafted from steel, silver, and brass, engraved with words of remembrance.
"I carved the words of remembrance on one of those feathers," Guilliman, who had been silent, said nostalgically as he looked at the angel wings. "Dorn and Khan carved some too. You know, among the Primarchs, Sanguinius was one of the most popular."
"Oh? And what about you?" Zeke asked but Guilliman didn’t answer.
Walking past the angel statue, they finally reached the destination of their trip.
"Sanguinius." Guilliman looked at a sphere made of liquid gold ahead.
Sanguinius’s coffin was called the Golden Sarcophagus. It wasn’t a sarcophagus in the traditional sense, but a liquid sphere shaped from molten gold, suspended in an invisible stasis field.
Sanguinius was encased within it.
The coffin was made this way because Horus’s methods were unimaginably cruel; he had mutilated Sanguinius’s body beyond recognition.
If it weren’t held together by liquid, Sanguinius would splat and shatter, turning into meat paste with chunks of flesh in it.
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Goal = 1000 (Not Complete)
