This Is Our Warhammer Journey

“Pfft, stupid monkeys.”

The governor, reduced to a human stick, looked at the praying Space Marines and Sisters, and couldn't help but sarcastically mutter in Eldar.

The gazes of Romulus and Kaul quickly locked onto him.

Romulus's eyes turned dangerous. He had just been interrupted by the sudden religious fervor and still wasn’t sure what to do, only now realizing they had a prisoner.

Does he like to seek attention here?

Of course, he knew the governor was mocking them.

It’s well known that the Eldar’s past experiences were very similar to that of the human Imperium today.

In the ancient times, the Eldar were incredibly powerful. With near-infinite lifespans and technology inherited from the ancient saints, they had been the rulers of the galaxy for a long time.

And as everyone knows, no one should be too idle.

Once their productivity was liberated and with no competition left, the Eldar began to seek stimulation on a perceptual level, believing they could indulge in any way they wished without dying. They began to fall into increasingly degenerate lifestyles.

The countless extreme emotions generated in this process awakened the Prince of Pleasure – Slaanesh, ultimately causing the collapse of the Eldar Empire, splitting them into the three major Eldar factions that now survive in their diminished state.

Does this scene look familiar to the current human Imperium?

Both ruled the vast majority of the galaxy, both rigid, both fallen.

The only difference was that the Eldar indulged in decadence because they had no opponents, while humanity’s fanaticism is driven by the need to survive.

So, in the eyes of most Eldar who understand humanity, the current Emperor is no different from Slaanesh.

And to the Eldar, humans who worship the Emperor are no different from those who worship Slaanesh—they’re as stupid as they come.

Of course, those who truly understand humanity are simply jealous.

This race should have perished alongside the Eldar during the Dark Age, but a god who favored them forcefully tipped the scales of fate in their favor.

But what’s a Dark Eldar doing blabbering here?

It’s fine if you guys want to bash the Emperor’s Imperium, but the Emperor as a personification, the Imperium’s defense—everyone knows that.

You guys who brought Slaanesh into being and never reflect on it, still have the nerve to speak up?

“...”

Romulus and Kaul exchanged a glance for a moment, both clearly realizing that the other could understand Eldar language.

This wasn’t their first time dealing with the Eldar.

Both thought at the same time.

Romulus had reason to believe that the Great Sage knew how to interrogate Eldar, but he just didn’t say it. Or perhaps, the moment the Dark Eldar boarded the ship, maintaining stability had become his purpose.

Kaul then stepped back half a meter, signaling to hand over the treatment of the Xenos to the other party.

“This is your prize.”

Kaul said.

“Mm.”

Romulus nodded and looked at the governor, who was hung on a ceramite coffin, already unrecognizable.

To prevent this governor from committing suicide, the Apothecary of the Sharks immediately examined him carefully, and when dealing with Xenos, the Apothecary’s methods were far from gentle.

“Heh, if you have anything you want to ask, just say it.”

The governor raised his head, his eyes coldly scanning everyone, etching their monkey-like faces deep into his soul.

The governor swore he would repay today’s humiliation.

One day, he would add these monkeys to his collection, torturing them with the most terrifying methods, then throw them to the Bloodfiends to be turned into Engines of Pain.

“Then will you speak the truth?”

“You think so?”

“I don’t think so. You guys always weave one conspiracy after another, never uttering a single truth. It’s probably going to require some necessary measures.”

“Oh, maybe if you beg for mercy now, I’ll consider giving you an invitation when I take your life in the future.”

The Sisters and Astartes in the room all glared at the Xenos with fury, wishing they could rip him apart.

To insult a saint like this had pushed everyone’s anger to its peak.

“Heh.”

Even now, having fallen into enemy hands, with no ability to resist, the governor still showed no awareness of being a prisoner.

His gaze was disdainful, with no panic or despondency. He glanced at the black box that imprisoned his subordinates and then began greeting everyone present with the filthiest words in his mind.

He had spent three years in the captivity of a Bloodfiend, in the empty, dark void, until his soul was about to vanish before the Bloodfiend was forced by the contract to release him.

The governor didn’t believe these monkeys, who had never even touched the limits of intelligent life’s perception, could use punishment to force him to speak.

The Apothecary, persistent as ever, followed Tyberos’ orders to silence the governor.

The transmigrators watching the tough governor couldn’t help but find him ridiculous.

Well, literally ridiculous.

Just thinking about how this tough guy, no matter how much torture he endures, will soon end up crying and spilling all the information from his head made a few of them chuckle.

Compared to most Imperials who are helpless in the face of Dark Eldar, the transmigrators had plenty of ways to deal with him.

“Aglaia, the Inquisitor.”

As the team’s strategist, Rameses spoke up.

“My lord!”

Aglaia immediately straightened up, puzzled why she was being called upon first.

After all, her interrogation process had been quite embarrassing—nothing had been uncovered, and she had been tricked—so when she saw the captured governor, she had forcibly suppressed her excitement, planning to let Romulus and the others handle it first.

“I heard that on the various civilized worlds of the Imperium, a heretical sect called ‘Pleasure’ has started to spread among the upper nobles, focusing on decadent indulgence?”

Aglaia didn’t go out of her way to focus on the demons. She was well aware of the results of sinking deeper into the Warp, but she did have some knowledge of the heretical faiths that often erupted among the Imperium’s upper classes, such as the Pleasure cult.

After all, you can’t study the history of this Imperium without touching on Chaos.

Recently, Aglaia had been researching the Horus Heresy, and the traitor primarchs’ betrayal was closely linked to Chaos.

“That’s right.”

Uncertain why Rameses asked this question, Aglaia thought for a moment after confirming that everyone present had the right to hear such forbidden knowledge, and then she responded.

“According to recorded information, these kinds of cults are usually hard to detect. They often only come under the Inquisitor’s radar after a demon-related disaster occurs.”

Rameses looked like a true seeker of knowledge.

Aglaia keenly noticed this slight shift and lifted her gaze to meet the governor’s eyes, only to find that the once-provocative look in his eyes now held a deep-seated fear, carefully concealed.

“Yes, because these heretics usually lurk among the upper classes. Even the Inquisition can’t interrogate them without cause, and their power allows them to hide their heretical actions well, causing these sects to eventually lead to great disaster.”

She immediately cooperated with the response.