How can a retired savior be considered retired if his price drops to 40,000?

Chapter 348 Unexpected Help

"Something is not right." Beside Captain Antago, the secretary of the think tank Joselius expressed his opinion as accurately as possible, "These cultists are completely suppressed by the local church militia and battle sisters."

"It is precisely because the current situation is so stable that the state priests on Saint Kthum II refused us entry, thinking that they could get away with this matter without our knowledge." Anta Ge's tone sounded slightly unhappy. "Short-sighted mortals, their fanaticism for faith will blind their eyes and make them fall into false arrogance."

"I understand what you mean, but that's not what I want to say." If Heselius had completely withdrawn his psychic perspective from the source of the rebellion, the Cathedral of the Blessed, which stood on the top of the luxurious religious hive, looked directly at the captain of the third company with his eyes that had lost their light, "The heretics and traitors are entrenched there, and it seems that they have reached the end of their rope and are just fighting a desperate battle. But in fact, hidden behind the high walls of carved beams and painted rafters, it is clear that more than one blood sacrifice has taken place in the church. The veil of reality has been severely weakened, and Slaanesh demons should have appeared beside these fallen people who betrayed the God-Emperor."

Antago narrowed his eyes under his helmet, and the auspicious instrument and the lens adjusted the viewing angle and detection mode according to his neural signals. The noise and airflow on the Thunderhawk in the sky could not affect a fully armed Primaris Space Marine. His already fully enhanced vision was further shortened with the help of the machine spirit. Even at a distance of 30 kilometers, he could still overlook the battlefield on the square outside the church from above:

The originally smooth and clean marble floor only existed in imagination. Now the square was full of exposed steel structures and trenches pre-set on the upper floors of the hive. The cultists had obviously used some corrosive means to add and change the distribution of these trenches, so that they were not set up to execute certain tactics as a whole, but instead deeply engraved the symbol of Slaanesh on the ground at the top of the hive. The battle sisters led the church militia to confront the cultists on the other side of these terrains. Although the latter behaved in a lax and blasphemous manner, and some of them had begun to mutate their limbs due to the pollution of Chaos, it was indeed clear that they were all human beings, and there were no demons sneaking in from the subspace among them.

"Why the church?" In addition to the secretary's reminder, Antago had a new doubt. "The equipment of these heretics is mixed with the rations of the Ministry of Justice. The records show that they have indeed attacked the Imperial Armed Forces. Why do they insist on returning to the Church of the Emperor?"

Although it is normal for the Empire to dig trenches under the tiles of the square in front of the church, or to ambush two multi-barrel laser cannons behind the magnificent murals of the church, this is still just a civilian religious site open to the public. In terms of simply using existing conditions to build a fortress that is easy to defend and difficult to attack, the barracks built by the Ministry of Justice itself would obviously be a more suitable venue.

Joachim shrugged. "Thinking leads to doubt, and doubt leads to rebellion. There is no point in speculating on the heretic's thoughts. We are all doing the same thing anyway."

"That's right." Anta Ge sighed, and took a last look at the magnificent Cathedral of the Blessed on the spire of the hive. The slightly orange starlight of Saint Kthum II fell on the towering spires, like a layer of golden red veil covering the church.

"It's a pity for this church. What a magnificent artistry." The third company commander sighed.

After hearing this, Joscelius snorted and laughed: "When you feel sorry for this matter, you look more like a Blood Angel."
-
Dante activated the speaker system on the death mask:

"Stop!" His already resonant voice became like a thunderclap after being processed by the mask, echoing between the halls of the Noble Blood, as if piercing into the souls of everyone present, "Calm down!"

So commanded the Chapter Master of the Blood Angels.

He should have used this function to chant the holy words of the Gene Father. The mask would mix subtle psychic energy between those words, so that the sound, together with Dante's pure faith and firm will, would intimidate the enemy and weaken their will. The Chapter Master did not want to use this function on his blood relatives who shared the same bloodline with him, but in the current situation, he had to do so.

The remaining Fifth and Tenth Captains of the Blood Drinkers Chapter, two Primaris Space Marines who should have been calmer and more emotionally indifferent than the Firstborn, now seemed to be on the verge of stress.

This is normal. After all, if Dante were in his place, he would not think that he could remain calm after experiencing such things as "the high-ranking officers of the Chapter collectively committed suicide in front of him, opened a warp rift, and summoned a Tzeentch demon" in a short period of time. Another very normal thing is that an uncalm Astartes is likely to do something stupid, destructive, and very unpredictable under the drive of emotions.

"Calm down." After making sure he had the other party's attention, Dante turned off the speaker system on the death mask, hoping that the other party could hear the sincerity in his tone. "The situation is not completely bad yet. No matter what you are going to say or do, I ask you to think as carefully as possible. Don't do anything stupid."

At this point, Mephiston had already killed the Tzeentch demon that emerged from the Warp rift, and retrieved the Executioner's Axe for Astorius. The chief priest, who had regained his equipment, shook off the Chaos Feather that was somehow stubbornly attached to it with disdain, and decided to do a comprehensive purification of the weapon after this matter was completely over, then raised his head and looked at the Warp rift that was still floating on the Noble Blood.

The force field generated by the tearing of the reality curtain could even penetrate armor, causing everyone present to feel a burning sensation on their skin as if they were being weakly electrocuted. Evil lightning was waving its claws around the rift, guarding a dazzling scene in the warp that would make people dizzy if they just stared at it: theoretically, no one could see the entire picture of the planet-sized structure behind the rift, which was already so large that it almost reached the ceiling of the cabin, but was still not big enough; in fact, everyone could realize what was gradually approaching reality behind the rift the moment they caught their first glimpse of it.

The nine-story silver tower surrounded by various crystal landscapes stands on an entire planet. It is a psychic device that can tear the curtain of reality on a large scale and drag the entire galaxy, star region, and even the star field into the waves of the vast ocean. Now, it is part of the Crystal Palace, which means that when it completely squeezes into reality, the area where it is located will gradually be swallowed up by Tzeentch's Chaos Realm.

The only thing to be thankful for is that Antros, the incarnation of the Silver Tower, who was integrated into the entire device through Sadkiel's witchcraft, has been killed. No matter who or what the mastermind is, even if the Lord of Change comes in person, it will take a lot of effort to fully open it.

"Director of the Think Tank Library," Astorius asked calmly, "Do you have any solution for this subspace rift?"

Mephiston did not give a direct yes or no answer. He held his psychic sword in front of him, spent a few seconds staring at the psychic lightning at the edge of the rift, and then said: "I will do my best. Please step back with the Lord."

Not long after the words fell, a strong pressure that even people without any psychic talent could feel filled the entire cabin. Dante and Astorius led the two remaining captains of the Blood Drinkers to retreat from the rift. Mephiston's eyes and the headband on his psychic hood emitted a strong blue light. The turbulent airflow made his long hair fly. The invisible psychic field was like a big hand, directly strangling the subspace rift that was still slowly opening. In the flashing and exploding lightning, it was obvious that Mephiston wanted to use brute force to pinch the curtain of reality again.

This is certainly not a common practice, but the Blood Angels' Chief Librarian is qualified to maintain such barbaric confidence. The raging power of the Warp almost endlessly drained the heat from the surrounding reality. When he used his psychic power on such a large scale, the shadow of a dark angel loomed behind Mephiston. Generally speaking, ordinary psykers would not succeed in similar efforts, but this simple and direct strategy worked under the mighty power of the Lord of Death: the trend of further expansion of the Warp rift was curbed. After a few seconds of other spectators holding their breath, the scale of the flashing electric light finally lost in the struggle between the two and began to slowly shrink.

However, before the others could breathe a sigh of relief, a psychic lightning bolt that was clearly different from the other bolts of lightning flew out from the lightning surrounding the rift and shot straight towards Mephiston, who was unable to move in front of the rift.

Everything happened too fast. The Blood Angels, who had not anticipated the casting action and had not even discovered the enemy's position, could not move faster than the speed of light. They could only watch as the Chief Librarian was knocked down by the sudden lightning, interrupting the suppression of the Warp rift.

In the next moment, they tried their best to make up for it: everyone stepped forward and automatically formed a formation, hiding the Chief Think Tank who had fallen to the ground at the back, and all long-range weapons were aimed in the direction of the attack, waiting for the enemy on the other side of the rift to actually appear.

Perhaps generally speaking, enemies who would use sneak attacks before a battle would not show up easily, but this time was different. Almost the next second after everyone aimed at the predetermined position, the instigator appeared leisurely from the shadow of the lightning: the Astartes in cyan armor, monopolizing the demon flying disc, with three pairs of abominable pointed crowns facing different directions on his helmet, and the ribbons and alien skulls hanging on both sides were obviously Prospero style. The Thousand Sons wizard held a staff in his hands, and his posture was almost defenseless. Behind him, there were some red letter warriors who were also riding demon flying discs in pairs. The moment he appeared, the various long-range weapons in the hands of the Blood Angels concentrated their fire, but unfortunately, it did not cause any actual effect. The wizard just waved his hand lightly, and it didn't even seem like he was casting a decent spell. All the firepower poured out by the Blood Angels was distorted in a dimension where reality and the subspace intersected in the rift, and it was completely unable to reach the enemies behind him.

"I have no ill will. At least this time." The Thousand Sons wizard spoke with a humming sound under his helmet and crown. "But I do have to say that your think tank is too barbaric. If one day he chooses to fall into Chaos, perhaps the Blood God will favor him more*."

No one paid any attention to this. Seeing that his attack was not going to produce any results, Dante chose to ask in a stern voice: "Wizard, what is your purpose?"

"First of all, I have a name." The Chaos Astartes spoke like a gentle teacher, but his earnest attitude would only make people angry in this scene. "My name is Azak Ahriman."

The name had meant a great deal in the past, and it meant a great deal now. At any time, a long list of titles and appellations could have been placed before it, but Ahriman was not in the mood to enumerate them now to the enemy he would almost certainly have to fight in the future.

But even if he didn't want to say it explicitly, there were naturally knowledgeable people who could get a glimpse of what kind of person this name represented from the historical records.

"Azak Ahriman, former captain of the Thousand Sons, chosen by Tzeentch, the exile." Mephiston, who had just been hit by the psychic lightning, had already climbed up from where he was. He endured the pain and raised Vitalus again, inserting himself into the formation formed by his blood brothers. "Why are you here?"

"It was just fate," said the Chaos Wizard. "Also, although it was difficult to find the tome in such a hurry, your attempt to close the rift with brute force was not completely incomprehensible. But I still have to say that your use of psychic power was too crude."

After Mephiston became the chief think tank of the Blood Angels, no one dared to use such a tone to criticize his use of psychic power. But Ahriman obviously had no concerns about this: "As long as you are a little more careful, you will find that the sacrificial ritual supporting this rift is not difficult to crack. Just a spell consisting of a few words -"

——He made a sound, a scream that human vocal cords could not make. It was hard to say whether it was a spell, but after the noise lasted only a few seconds, everyone present could see that, without anyone continuing to interfere, the rift itself was indeed beginning to slowly close under the automatic correction of the reality curtain.

"Why are you helping us?" Mephiston asked. "What tricks do you have up your sleeve?"

"Don't do that. Not this time," Ahriman answered. "I am here to do my part, and I am sure you have yours to do. Since we both have more pressing matters to attend to, at least for once, we should not waste our time on a pointless conflict."

The Blood Angels didn't want to accept this statement, but considering the existence of the refraction spell, they probably couldn't get their bullets to actually reach the Chaos cousins ​​that needed to be eliminated. The situation was stronger than people, so they had to accept this statement with a pinch of their noses.

Mephiston then asked: "Why do you want to close this rift? Why, as a servant of the Lord of Change, do you want to prevent the expansion of your master's domain?"

"The wheel of fate is not in the right position." Facing Mephiston, who is also a powerful psychic, Ahriman showed a higher level of talkativeness and a gentler attitude than usual. "The time is wrong, the location is wrong, and the equipment that should be on the stage is also wrong. This is a conspiracy carried out by Carlos the Fateweaver in disregard of the Lord of Change. If I can get it back on track, it won't be a big loss for me."

"That sounds very suspicious," Astorius commented very objectively.

On a flying disc behind the wizard, a red-letter warrior raised the muzzle of his bolter. Before he could successfully aim, Ahriman raised his hand. At this simple signal, the warriors in the back row hesitated for a moment, but eventually followed the hint of the psionic master and lowered their guns again.

Mephiston noticed this and deduced something from it, but on the surface, he remained calm: "Since when did the Chaos Wizard become so kind?"

“This is not ‘good intentions’.” The rift closed faster and faster, and the surrounding lightning almost completely engulfed the small group of Thousand Sons. “It’s just that ‘the time has not come yet’. The scope involved in this game is larger than anyone imagined, and there are more players than anyone imagined. I haven’t even finished the prologue, but I still give you a suggestion. Look back and see where you came from.”

The voice of Azak Ahriman gradually became more and more illusory until it was completely drowned out by the veil. Before the shadows of these Chaos Space Marines completely disappeared from reality, Mephiston realized that the leading Chaos Sorcerer had a psychic amulet made of a form he had never seen before hanging around his neck.
-
This is a wilderness covered in fog and nothingness. Orlok is sure of this.

He did not explore his surroundings at all - in fact, when he opened his eyes again, this consciousness already existed in his mind.

He got up from where he was, and began to face the endless fog and the empty wilderness. He recalled his name and surname in the vast world, but he had no memory of why he was there. Surprisingly, he did not feel anxious about this, but was calm in his heart.

There was no blood thirst, no black rage, and now there was only a sense of calm in his mind. Everything that should be done had been done, and even if there were still regrets, it was not something he could change through his own efforts. He did not recall his previous actions for the time being, but he clearly realized that this was his end.

Since this was the end, lying down again and doing nothing was certainly a viable option, but I'm afraid no Astartes could bear to make such a choice - even a dead Astartes would do so. So Orlok decided to move forward, although he had no destination, didn't know where to go, and there were no landmarks around him. He just randomly picked a direction to move forward.

Maybe I shouldn't expect to find anything. Even with this thought in mind, O'Rourke's mind remained calm. For the first time in his life, he realized how relaxing this calmness was, and how great it would be if it could last forever.

Perhaps for the first time in his life, the Blood Drinker's Chapter Master allowed his thoughts to wander around in such a peaceful state, thinking about many issues without any purpose. Until - perhaps a few minutes later, or perhaps a few hours later, he saw the light of a bonfire in the empty wilderness.

(End of this chapter)