My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 492: Within the Sixth Circle
Warning: Extremely mild Slaanesh content.
A god born from the fallen desires of the Eldar...
The very embodiment of an endless pursuit of sensation...
But for a god—for a vast chimera of intertwined concepts—could there truly exist a desire that could never be satisfied?
Its nature compelled it to seek ever-greater extremes, yet everything was merely another game at hand. The most primal thrill came from the fear mortals felt when staking something precious—the difference between a grand gamble and a street-corner game lay only in the size of the wager.
The higher the pile of chips upon the table, the sweeter the pain of anticipation became, mingled with the intoxicating sweetness of dopamine.
Endlessly wagering more and more of oneself—
Money...
Flesh...
Life itself...
Each escalating bet brought unforgettable agony, and when victory finally arrived, delirious ecstasy.
The god who governed stimulation and pleasure knew this well. Countless times had it lured innocent souls down this path, savoring the twisted delight hidden within their suffering.
But for the god itself...
Had it ever experienced that final second before falling into the abyss?
Did an abyss truly exist for it?
Perhaps once, the gods had never possessed a choice.
But now, in an age where mortals wielded the power to slay gods, did the gods not themselves hold a blade capable of cutting their own throats?
It stood before the abyss.
And fell into it with ecstatic joy.
It had come!
He had come!
Past and future blurred into indistinct phantoms beneath the flow of the waters of death, leaving only the present.
Allowing it to drown completely in the torrent of pleasure that existed in this very moment.
Now.
Only now remained.
It and Him.
Come.
Come.
The god cheered.
Pain!
Pain!
Pain!
The supreme pleasure born from pain!
. . .
Using the Pride of the Emperor, now fallen into the Warp, as an anchor, immense conceptual forces surged into the Six Desires. Slowly and greedily, they consumed everything that had once possessed form and color.
Unlike the first encounter, the process was not violent.
Not abrupt.
The sheer scale of both sides made it slow...
Made it...
Dizzying.
The black tide poured inward.
It seeped through tightly shut doors.
Within trembling pink light, the marble double doors adorned with silver filigree and violet crystal began to dissolve.
Like ice cream melting beneath the summer sun, they softened and sagged, dripping downward into the darkness below.
Into the realm of death.
A cold sense of helplessness spread upward through the god's senses.
The devouring had begun.
The lowest-ranked Daemonettes screamed as they fled in panic.
The Youngest Queen listened lazily to their prayers and pleas.
To Her delight, She tasted the terror radiating from their souls.
So even the souls She had personally created could become this sweet.
The appetizer before suffocation had already brought enough surprises to the Dark Prince.
Unable to resist, She reached toward one of Her carefully selected companions—a charming little Eldar plaything.
Fingertips pierced flesh.
Layers of skin and muscle parted.
Whimpers and gasps intertwined.
Blood and other fluids flowed freely.
As the Dark Prince moved, the crystal prisms beside the bed reflected countless shifting images in strange and seductive shades of violet.
The Youngest Queen listened with satisfaction to the vast silence beneath Her palace's magnificent dome.
The songs and dances that had continued for millions of years came to an abrupt halt.
At first, She remained whole.
She danced atop the bed surrounded by layers of silk curtains, unconsciously devouring souls as She moved.
Through the misty veils, starlight glittered across Her dancing body.
Countless treasures adorned the Youngest Queen.
Gold and silver jewels swayed upon Her form.
Brighter than stars.
Softer than galaxies.
To the world's most extreme misers, the jewelry upon a beauty surpassed the beauty herself.
Meanwhile, cold black waters slowly rose.
Upon their calm surface appeared reflections of mountains of gold.
Endless coins piled into towering heaps.
Human figures rooted among them like pigs, willingly becoming worms burrowed within grain.
The first gold coin fell.
Dislodged by a treasure-seeker's digging, it dropped into the black river flowing across the ground.
Without a sound, it vanished.
No matter how vast the wealth, all treasures were eventually abandoned.
Pearl-like tears fell from the golden mountains.
The daemons of greed screamed.
Abandoning the ripe, corrupted souls they had cultivated, they fled toward the rear.
But the gates leading to the next circle remained shut.
The daemons pounded desperately upon the doors, unleashing shrill howls and curses.
Yet fools do not understand sincere pleas for mercy.
Within the Circle of Greed, the waters of death greedily swallowed the treasures of the world.
Gold.
Silver.
Jade.
Agate.
Emerald.
All of it was merely a tiny corner of a grander story.
A monotonous backdrop, lacking the vibrant life found within a garden.
The river continued to rise.
It covered the daemons' ankles.
The moment their feet disappeared, they collapsed with terrified screams.
They struggled to stand.
But the black river was not truly water.
The instant any part of them fell into the darkness, it vanished completely.
Their screams ended abruptly.
A half-raised face, eyes still open in terror and unwillingness, slipped beneath the surface.
It disappeared into the river forever.
Powerful daemons began using their companions as stepping stones. Driven by terror, they trampled one another and scrambled toward higher ground. In moments, a writhing mountain of flesh piled up before the Gate of Gluttony, glittering with the jewels embedded in their bodies.
Every so often, one lost its footing and fell from the heap into absolute death.
+Ah…+
The Dark Prince released a satisfied sigh. Involuntarily, the god stroked smooth, powerful skin as the gold and silver ornaments embedded in that flesh dissolved away. The Dark Prince felt itself melting. Amid a supreme coldness, the hot, clamorous exterior was peeled away, exposing the naked core beneath.
It had been a very long time since the god's outward form had been this plain.
So simple. So pure. Almost maiden-like.
What a wondrous sensation.
+Come… come quickly.+
The Youngest Queen called out. Obeying the dictates of desire itself, the god lowered its head and bent like a beast over the great soft bed. Beneath the shadow of that body lay a little captive, a stubborn little Eldar whose sealed mouth trembled despite everything.
The liquefied gold and silver, now foul-smelling droplets, ran down the grooves of the Dark Prince's muscles and fell onto the face of Unicorn.
The god reached out with a hand astonishingly bare—no rings, no chains threaded through flesh—and removed the crude imitation mask. The black mask was tossed casually from the bed.
Fingers caressed the Harlequin's furious, terrified face. The Dark Prince bent down and kissed the corner of the captive's mouth.
Ribs protruded beneath starving flesh. The belly was hollow. Fangs thrust from the mouth and grew wildly, turning the god into something monstrous. The mouth became a sucking maw ringed with shrieking rows of teeth. Yet the embrace remained that of a devoted lover, clinging to its partner like a parasite, trembling with gratitude as it scraped across every shred of flesh.
The dark beast bared its fangs and smashed through the Gate of Gluttony.
He had changed. He had become rougher, more impatient. After tasting one of the six circles…
The Dark Prince rose. Broken bones lay beneath the god. Unconsciously, the god bit its own fingers while one hand smeared blood across its face.
See? The god had known He would sink into excess as well.
Everything did.
All things, in the end, would sink into the Six Rings of Slaanesh.
The god bit off a finger and chewed hurriedly.
Come. Come quickly. The hunger was growing.
The Dark Prince tore off its own hand and swallowed it whole, the throat bulging like a serpent swallowing a great egg. There was no time to chew again. In panic, the god bent down and rooted across blood-stained silk like a starving animal, licking and swallowing fabric shredded by barbed tongues.
Hunger. Hunger beyond measure.
The other hand slid involuntarily along the god's waist. Trembling beneath immense hunger, the Dark Prince wondered if this was what the beast felt. Was His nature an endless hunger? Was this the essence of His devouring?
O Hades!
Under such torment, the writhing Dark Prince whimpered that name from bloodied lips.
Across the Warp, the other three great tides shuddered violently, as if screaming, as if arguing.
The waters of death suddenly surged, raising enormous waves. Exquisite feasts vanished in an instant along with the people who had been gorging themselves upon them. Oceans of wine became no more than a single gulp for the Lord of the Underworld. A sweep of its hand stripped banquet tables bare.
Having adapted to the Ring of Desire, the beast grew more reckless. It no longer lingered before the feast Slaanesh had prepared. It devoured everything brutally and pressed onward.
That disappointed the Youngest Queen. Yet the beast's direct advance made the god even more ecstatic.
Before a starving beast, the flesh of a beauty is sweeter than the beauty herself.
Are you here for my flesh, my beloved?
Slaanesh sighed with satisfaction. Suddenly, the hunger was gone. The god collapsed into the ruined softness of the bed, limbs sprawling carelessly.
The Dark Prince was a serpent of desire devouring its own fear.
A serpent that swallowed its own tail, forever trying to fill an endless appetite.
+Come~~+
At the Dark Prince's invitation, the third gate opened by itself.
Tentacles reached greedily inside, only to find the Ring of Pleasure unexpectedly empty.
Countless blood-stained chains, crusted with dried residue, hung from the walls. The former hall of revelry had become something like an abandoned torture chamber.
In the center of the hall stood only a vast bed that was no longer magnificent, no longer fragrant.
Creak— The sound of heavy weight shifting on the bed echoed through the chamber.
Slaanesh, wearing a form resembling Fulgrim, rose and stepped barefoot onto the cold, hard floor.
The pearl-and-gold chain that once pierced the god's ankle had become a rusted iron shackle. The Dark Prince looked utterly satisfied, yet stood there as though incapable of ever understanding restraint.
Slaanesh sighed. The sound, carrying both pain and regret, echoed through the Six Rings of Slaanesh.
+My beloved, this is where our journey ends.+
Staring into the darkness, the god felt fear peeling away layer after layer of its core.
Then laughter rang out like silver bells.
+But the good news is, we still have a little private time together~+
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Tn: I updated the story once every 2 days, but if you want to see more chapter of this story ahead of time, please go to my Patreon.
Latest Chapter: Chapter 525: The Erasure[1]
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[1] https://www.patreon.com/Thatsnakegirl/posts/my-life-as-death-164167815
[2] https://www.patreon.com/Thatsnakegirl/posts/my-life-as-death-164167815