Leaning back on his throne, Nareth considered his plan for large-scale cultivating "Travelers."
'I need four controlled special Warp regions for "Travelers" to successfully complete the ritual.'
'Even if I can seize the Hrud Source's pocket dimension and gain control of Sondheim VIII's underworld, I'll still be two short.'
He thought of various Warp regions, known pocket dimensions.
'The Formless Wastes are still the easiest target.'
'Seizing territory there is easier than in other regions.'
'And since I intend to take Be'lakor's throne as Dark Master, I will naturally take the Darklands as well.'
His eyes flickered. He suddenly recalled the Emperor, ten millennia later, possessing Guilliman and speaking to Mortarion and Nurgle.
"It's not just the Warp that can expand."
"This realm is not real. Only will is real. And my will is second to none."
"Remember that well, Plague God. Convey this message to them..."
Enveloped in black mist, the flames of ambition blazed within him.
'The Emperor was right. It's not just the Warp that can expand.'
'If the Four can stake claims in reality, I can certainly open up territory in the Warp.'
'Starting by establishing a domain in the Formless Wastes.'
With this new idea, he immediately began considering how to proceed.
'Conquering the Formless Wastes cannot be done with Shadows of Order as the main force.'
'The test of will would be too severe.'
He recalled the future Abyssal Crusade, where thirty Astartes Chapters were sent on a penitent crusade into the Eye of Terror. Only the Sons of the Dragon Chapter survived. Two Chapters were annihilated. The rest fell to Chaos.
The survivors of the Iron Snakes Chapter fell on Anaslax, becoming the Grey Death warband. The Sentinels Chapter fell on the daemon world of Oliensis, becoming the cannibalistic Corpus Brethren warband...
Moreover, the Eye of Terror still retained some reality. The Formless Wastes were deep in the Warp, far more corrupting.
Even with the Thelema mindstate and being beyonders, they would struggle to withstand the mental test in the Formless Wastes, especially before their life level fundamentally changed at Sequence 4 and above.
'I don't necessarily have to rely on Shadows of Order.'
'In a way, I can be an army of one.'
The "Mentor of Disorder" had hatched tens of thousands of Psychneuein in Hrud brains.
His mystical item, the Death Consul mask, contained over a thousand specters he had killed and collected from void whales.
He also thought of the shadow side's second layer, the Shadow Contract beings.
He began to formulate a plan, deciding to experiment soon.
Reining in his thoughts, he said to Santiago.
"You used your abilities well to complete the journey."
"This was the most difficult. I have arrangements for the other three. Be patient."
"Thank You, my Lord, for Your favor." Santiago clasped his hands, fingers pointing downwards, devoutly.
After sending him back to the Starcaller, with a thought, he went to the shadow side.
His majestic form appeared in the second layer. With a turn of his hand, parchment and a stylus made of dual-numbered black gold appeared.
After a moment's thought, he began to write.
Line after line of Dunnic rapidly formed.
After filling the page, he turned the parchment and wrote the corresponding content in Hrud, from the language Arsena Dunn had deciphered from the Hrud's mycelium books.
After finishing, he reviewed it. Then, with a thought,
a Hrud, its body curled and bent, wrapped in rags, was instantly transported from the second layer of the real side to the shadow side.
Its large, black eyes spun, a look of surprise in them.
It didn't understand why it had been tunneling in a hive city's sewers one moment, and was suddenly here.
Its gaze swept over the surrounding shadows. It soon noticed this place was different from a sewer.
Sewer shadows are cast by objects under dim lights, glowing mushrooms, crystals, etc.
The shadows here had no discernible source, as if generated out of thin air.
Only two shadows had sources.
It, and the black-armored, golden-winged giant.
It shuddered. Fragments of blurred memory flashed through its mind: It had surged with its kin towards the detestable, blinding light.
They would overwhelm that light.
They would shatter it.
Green mist suddenly rose.
The black-armored, golden-winged figure appeared in mid-air.
An invisible hand had grabbed it.
The memory fragments shattered. Its body trembled.
Its memories after that were coherent.
It had been brought by the black-armored, golden-winged giant to a new world.
A world similar to the ruined hive city.
"Sign this contract. Serve me for three hundred thirty years. You will be freed." The "Majestic" voice echoed in its mind. It instinctively reached for the pen and parchment to sign its name.
It suddenly jerked.
'No! I cannot submit!'
'I cannot blindly sign a contract!'
It raised an arm, its claws grasping the parchment. The slime covering its body spread, making it wet and viscous.
Its gaze swept over the title: "Service Contract." Then it read the content.
'To gain freedom, I will follow Nareth's commands without fail for the term of service.'
'...'
'So this terrifying giant is named Nareth.' As it thought, its gaze swept over the clauses, many rules governing its behavior.
Its gaze finally settled on the term of service: three hundred thirty years.
Three hundred thirty years might be a lifetime for a human, and most wouldn't live that long.
But for the Hrud, who walked through time, it was not a long time.
"I accept." Its voice was near a shriek, but Nareth understood.
Nareth turned his wrist. A stylus appeared in the Hrud's hand.
He watched its claw approach the parchment. With a thought,
a shadow silently fell on the parchment.
A barely perceptible line of text appeared between two lines on the wet paper:
If the place of service lacks the concept of time, the timer will stop until the servant leaves, at which point time will resume.
The Hrud's large, black eyes completely failed to notice the blurred line. It was like the shadow of the line above.
Its hand suddenly fell. It signed its name: Damian.
The moment the characters were written, their bodies trembled slightly.
The shadows behind them suddenly leaped, as if looking down from above.
In an indescribable sensation, their souls were linked.
Damian's body trembled. He felt that if he violated the contract, he would suffer terrible punishment.
He would die.
Nareth's eyes deepened. The contract, made in the second shadow layer, was not fair.
His only obligation was "to free the other party."
The contract he made with the Hrud was not a transaction.
A transaction cannot first attack the other party or secretly impose unfavorable conditions, nor can it harbor malicious intent when reaching the deal.
But the second shadow layer allowed for non-transaction contracts, based on his own power to force the other party's agreement.
He had also used this layer to modify the contract, in the shadow layer imperceptible to the Hrud, making the terms favorable to him.
After advancing to Sequence 4, he would conquer the Formless Wastes. Then Damian, entering a place without time, would naturally serve him forever, until death.
He looked at Damian, whose eyes gleamed.
'Hmm, before that, I can have the Hrud dig tunnels on Forge Worlds, industrial worlds, or mining worlds.'
'They are more efficient than Termite Tunnelers.'
Through this experiment, he understood how to make Shadow Contracts. He considered seeking more suitable contractees.
'The fifth layer can also "corrode" Hrud. But threatening them into a Shadow Contract is faster, and has binding force.'
'More suitable contractees would be those difficult to "corrode" but capable of powerful combat in the Warp.'
....
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