Because Blazkowicz was immune to psychic powers, he disdained the gods, and Khorne's blessings were difficult to bestow.
However, the Oathguard was brave and skilled in battle, and out of affection, the Blood God bestowed his blessings upon him.
Harlan could not resist the blessing of the Chaos God, yet he inwardly disdained the Blood God and scorned the favors granted by the divine.
"I will always despise Khorne. He prides himself on courage and glory, but he merely hides behind the Warp, manipulates the fates of the weak, and incites mortals to kill. He is a deceiver."
Turning his head away, Harlan tried not to look at the Emperor, openly displaying his contempt for the Chaos God.
"Hahahahaha~"
On the throne, the Emperor's shoulders shook, and his majestic and hearty laughter echoed through the bedchamber.
He did not mind his son's guard lowering his head or looking away; he was in a very joyful mood.
As the laughter faded, the Emperor sat upright on the throne, his face showing appreciation and delight: "It is precisely for this reason that Khorne likes you."
"He likes true warriors—eternally unyielding, unmatched in bravery. But true warriors will not submit."
"Submit?" Harlan snorted, his hoarse voice suppressing his anger: "He owes Argent Nur a blood debt, and it will surely be repaid in blood!"
Blood for blood!
If an ordinary person said they would make a god repay a blood debt, it might be the ignorant boasting of someone unaware of the divine.
But Harlan was different; he knew that gods truly existed, had even seen them with his own eyes, yet still dared to remember the blood feud. This obsession and courage were rare among ordinary people.
The Emperor nodded in approval. The warrior's immortal resolve was deeply embedded in his chest, pulsating with his heart until death!
"I know why you have come." After a brief greeting, the Emperor shifted the topic to business, "I have been waiting for you for a long time."
Harlan wanted to raise his head and ask, but stopped himself, keeping his head averted as he waited for the Emperor to finish speaking.
"I knew of Blazkowicz's departure long ago. The reason I did not guide him back was because I harbored hesitation."
A majestic voice came from the throne, detailing the reasons clearly: "A long time ago, I wanted to bring him back, but after much thought, I gave up."
"Your master is very special. I cannot deeply interfere with his trajectory; it is best to let nature take its course."
Hearing the Emperor's explanation, Harlan furrowed his brow and asked in confusion: "Are you saying that the time for my Lord's return has not yet come?"
"No," the Emperor rose from the throne, his robe trailing on the floor, and looked down at the champion swordsman: "Your arrival indicates that the time has come."
"You are the closest person to him; your destinies have been intertwined from the beginning. You made a choice and sought me out, drawing me into your affairs."
"You have the intention, and I have the ability; things will naturally fall into place."
Harlan's lowered head swayed slightly. He understood very little about mysticism and never believed in the concept of "destiny."
"Everything is ready," Malcador spoke, a smile creasing his wrinkled face, his aged voice saying leisurely: "You are the awaited east wind."
As he spoke, the Emperor walked to the center of the bedchamber, stopping in the middle of the red carpet. Harlan raised his head, his gaze extending along the floor, and only then did he see a circle of psychic runes embroidered around the Emperor's feet on the red carpet.
His pupils contracted; he was startled to realize that before his arrival, the Emperor had already made arrangements, waiting for an "east wind" to arrive.
Standing at the head of the runic circle, the Emperor slowly squatted down, closed his eyes, and with a thought, a golden light flashed, cutting his palm.
A drop of crimson blood flowed out, dripping onto the center of the phychic circle. Instantly, the runes embroidered with golden threads erupted in golden radiance.
"Return—Return—"
Blood dripped continuously, the red carpet gradually deepening in color, and the Emperor whispered softly, the golden psychic energy illuminating the bedchamber in a magnificent golden glow.
Harlan instinctively retreated a few steps, moving away from the edge of the magic circle, ensuring his safety and not disturbing the casting.
The Emperor's eyes were tightly closed. He pressed his blood-stained finger to his forehead, outlining a vertical eye with the blood.
As the psychic power intensified, the blood eye seemed to move slightly, and golden light leaked through the gaps, reflecting onto the psychic circle.
The Emperor used the bloodline connection to delve his consciousness into the Sea of Souls, beginning to search for Blazkowicz's whereabouts.
In the vast and boundless Warp, Blazkowicz and his companions advanced aimlessly, slaying Daemons and monsters in the desolation to pass the time, searching for a way to leave the Warp.
Suddenly, the old one sitting on his shoulder trembled, his gaze fixed on the distance, and he cried out in terror: "Something is coming!"
The Doom Slayers immediately surrounded their Gene-Father, forming a defensive perimeter and quickly taking up battle positions, their speed astonishing.
In the real universe, the Emperor revealed a faint smile. Relying on his bloodline connection, he had found Blazkowicz in the Warp.
"I found him."
Upon receiving confirmation, Harlan let out a long breath, his tense face visibly relaxing.
As the Doom Slayers stood ready, a sudden change occurred at the front of the team. Psychic energy shimmered with golden light, imprinting itself on the continent, dispelling the Warp's corruption, and outlining a teleportation array.
Seeing this, the warriors' taut nerves relaxed slightly.
The golden psychic energy was highly recognizable, and with the dissipation of the Warp's power, it was obvious who was using the psychic energy.
"Huh?" Sintara exclaimed, jumping off Blazkowicz's shoulder and hopping to the edge of the magic array to study its specific function.
"Very strange psychic characteristics," it stroked the magic array with its webbed hand, closing its eyes to analyze its qualities, "powerful, pure, restraining Warp corruption, it's a cross-dimensional teleportation array."
Blazkowicz led his sons closer, let out a long breath, and said with a smile: "We can go home."
The long journey through the Warp, after the initial novelty wore off, was an endless monotony.
The old one's surprise did not diminish. He looked up and asked the young man: "Do you know the owner of this psychic power?"
Blazkowicz nodded in silence, two words escaping his lips: "I know him."
"Oh my!" Sintara exclaimed: "Incredible! This person's psychic power far exceeds imagination!"
"The owner of this psychic power is an extraordinary individual."
"Even in ancient times, my compatriots who focused on psychic abilities did not possess such powerful existences. To have such pure psychic energy, in today's defiled Sea of Souls, is truly inconceivable."
"You must get closer to him," the old one's expression was serious, his large eyes filled with surprise: "With his help, your chances of defeating the Four Gods have increased significantly."
Blazkowicz nodded solemnly, saying in a deep voice: "He and I have a good relationship."
"Indeed," Sintara nodded in satisfaction, "He crossed the real universe and the warp to find you, so your relationship must naturally be good."
"It's time to go back." Blazkowicz sighed, looking up at the distant Warp, preparing to step onto the teleportation array.
Just then, beside the Emperor's teleportation array, new light began to flash.
Pale blue, elegant runes descended, outlining a complex magic array on the ground. The runes shimmered, flowing with respect and invitation.
Blazkowicz withdrew his foot from the teleportation array and walked towards the pale blue array, his eyes filled with an inquisitive look.
"Eldar runes." Sintara was uninterested in the new phychic array, even covering its mouth with a yawn. As a mentor, it was too familiar with its mentee.
Two large eyes reflected the two arrays. The old one's eyeballs rolled, and he then resumed a serious expression, saying: "Now, two paths lie before you. How will you choose?"
Blazkowicz did not respond. He circled the eldar array, shaking his head in confusion: "How did they find me?"
Blazkowicz was not surprised that the Emperor could find him in the vast warp; there was a bloodline connection between them.
However, the eldar, who had never had any dealings with him, risked being discovered by Slaanesh to construct a teleportation array for him. What reason supported this action?
"The Eldar have fallen, but they were strong for sixty million years; it's not unreasonable for them to have more tricks."
"As for you," Sintara asked again: "The key point is you. How will you choose your destination?"
"Fate is generous; it does not force you to go anywhere. It places choices before you for you to pick."
Blazkowicz's gaze retracted from the eldar array. Without hesitation, he turned and walked towards the teleportation array built by the Emperor, saying in a low voice: "I am Human."
He had no past dealings with the eldar, and there was no need to contact them now.
The Doom Slayers operated their arm gauntlets, projecting dimensional bubbles, ready for teleportation.
Sintara hopped on two legs, dragging the broodlord's cage into the teleportation array, a look of joy on its face.
After sixty million years, he could return to the real universe and even reunite with his own kind. He had not even dared to dream of such a thing.
When no one else was sensed, the golden light of the teleportation array flared brightly, then vanished, leaving behind swirling golden particles.
In the vast void of the real universe, an eldar craftworld, graceful in form and reflecting starlight, slowly advanced.
Within the star system it passed through, there was a feral world.
On the primitive continent of the feral world, the soulstone teleportation array dimmed, and no one emerged from it.
The eldar farseer withdrew her psychic energy and sighed sadly: "The time is not yet ripe; the Slayer has not responded to our invitation."