Aboard the Shadow's Sovereignty, after leaving the Dionysian Spear in his office, Nareth returned to his quarters.
The "Baron of Corruption" drew the Sword of Vaul, wreathed it in psychic energy.
'The Sword of Vaul is a sword. A ritual longsword is also a sword. Therefore, the Sword of Vaul is a ritual longsword.'
Having used "Concept Swap," the ritual longsword moved.
Nareth tapped the eleven primary runes and thirty-three secondary runes in sequence. As all the runes lit up,
the "Euclidian Runes" blazed. The Great Ocean receded like a tide.
The two eyes beyond the veil shifted their gaze to the surface.
With a thought, Nareth went to the seventh layer of the Kingdom of Disorder.
The Bloody Chain on his right pinky glowed, rapidly restoring his psychic energy, as he stared at the golden light faintly visible within the silver body.
Unlike the Slaugth, who had accepted reality, the Silent Cry, Kalugura, still struggled.
The "Baron of Corruption" saw that the moment the golden light emerged from its body, the "ropes" formed from threads of law came alive.
Triangle after triangle contracted inward, forcing the golden aura back into the silver metal body.
"We are gods! You cannot bind us..."
Voices from different fragments echoed within the Silent Cry's body.
Nareth ignored the Silent Cry's roar. The "Baron of Corruption's" spirituality extended, merged into the visibly thinning 'ropes' to repair them.
With a thought, the thirty-three triangular talismans at his waist floated out, surrounding the Silent Cry.
The "Baron of Corruption's" psychic energy extended again. Following his will, black mist churned as threads of law connected with the triangular talismans.
Green light leaped. The black triangular talismans twisted and changed.
As the light faded, the talismans were completely transformed, now shaped like green teardrops.
With a thought, the Primarch brought one talisman before him.
'The Silent Cry is far more powerful than the Slaugth. Its influence on the talismans is greater.'
'Most Slaugth do not change the overall shape or color of the talismans. Only the Primarch-level captured at Bar'Savor turns the talismans into maggot shapes.'
'The Silent Cry transforms the talismans completely into teardrops, their color also turning green, associated with it.'
The talismans settled at Nareth's waist, each spaced a finger's breadth apart.
His gaze swept over them. 'Like the fifty-two talismans made before, these all embody Kalugura's aspect of silence.'
The C'tan are embodiments of physical law. Their power is not limited to a single aspect.
Each Transcendent C'tan commands abilities like seismic waves, hyperdimensional storms, and antimatter meteors.
Nareth's golden wings also had abilities related to flame, accelerating flight, and enhancing defense.
'I can't yet tap into other abilities. I can only use the pure power released by the Silent Cry. The power of silence.'
With a thought, Nareth went to the storage palace, gathered materials like the Shifting Leopards and Mist Trees, and went before the space simian.
He returned to reality with the "Magician" potion, deactivated the "Euclidian Runes."
Entering the Primarch's Office, he slid the potion to William Wood.
William looked at the potion in his hands. Fireworks bloomed within it.
Colors of orange, yellow, red, and green constantly radiated outward, dissipated, and reappeared.
William downed the potion. The cold liquid traveled down his throat. Countless bubbles burst inside him.
As he felt the changes within his body, a massive flood of information surged into his mind, blooming like one firework after another.
Veins bulged on William's forehead. His transhuman mind rapidly absorbed the influx.
He felt an itch all over, especially in his arms. He saw the skin on one arm wrinkle, like a centenarian's.
The other arm became so transparent it lost its color, the veins, muscles, and sinews beneath visible.
Moments later, William reined in the overflowing power of the potion. His arms returned to normal.
The newly promoted "Magician" knelt on one knee. "Thank You, Father, for Your gift!"
The Primarch nodded slightly. With a thought, he sent a thought-pulse to William.
"Remember, a "Magician" does not perform without preparation."
This was both a clue for digesting the potion and a crucial point for using his abilities.
He also revealed the method of praying to the Black Emperor to William.
The Decisive Battle of Taxal was the largest Imperial campaign to date. The waves raised by the countless dead might draw the gaze of those beyond the veil.
Though the veil prevented the Four from reaching directly into reality, they could draw power from the souls of the dead, and from the emotions and actions of individuals on the battlefield.
They might exert some influence on reality.
Though William was not a Chapter Master, he was capable and loyal. He could not be lost to them.
"My Lord, I will remember Your teachings."
As William boarded a Stormbird, flying to the surface, pondering performance and preparation, beyond the veil, the palace surrounded by six rings resembled paradise.
The six concentric zones had no physical defenses, but few souls could resist the temptations and pass through them.
An impossibly tall fortress sat atop slender, twisted stone pillars. The entire tower was like a nest of coiled, living vipers, forming an indescribable convergence.
Within its gates lay luxury and pleasure beyond mortal imagination.
A vast circular hall surrounded the inner chambers. Every surface was covered in mirrors, reflecting each other to infinity.
Now, countless scenes flickered within these mirrors.
A mortal, shouting loudly, fired a lasgun at extraordinary speed until the power pack overheated and exploded, tearing him and the wolf-like beast charging him apart.
A Cerabvore's tentacles pulled brains from cobalt-blue armor, stuffing them into the slit in its bulbous head. The red line pulsed with pleasurable light.
A Osseivore's branches crushed black-terracotta armor, then spat it out.
Bones crunched like fried ribs, producing a delightful crackle.
...
Within the palace, a figure with long limbs, an elegant bearing, a form that transcended gender and inspired longing, swept its gaze across these mildly pleasing scenes, finally settling on two mirrors.
Two figures in purple armor.
White-haired, handsome, wielding an ancient-style longsword.
Forged by Tarawan tribal smiths in Terrican forges, the sword had excellent balance and resilience.
The grip, wrapped in wire, was exceptionally long, allowing Lucius to switch between one-handed and two-handed grips with ease.
He wielded it freely, thrusting with point control when gripping the front, slashing with power when gripping the rear.
Every strike was a pursuit of ultimate swordsmanship. The brilliant light drew an appreciative gaze.
The pleasurable moment vanished as a flying fist smashed through a cluster of worms, shattering the perfectly balanced sword-light.
With a crack, the twisted mirror screamed and vanished, cast into some unknown realm.
Another purple figure combined fists and swords. The blade spun brilliantly. The purple gauntlet was thick and fierce.
Akurduana spun. Necrotic rays and worm-arms grazed past him.
His blade spun rapidly, shedding clumps of worms.
His fist, its force tearing the necrotic shroud, slammed into the mass of worms.
Akurduana's fist did not damage the blade's edge.
Suddenly, flames erupted in the twisted mirror, a brilliant firework that seized its gaze.
On Taxal's surface, flame after flame of red shot up.
William Wood leaped again and again.
Necrotic beams lanced towards him. Emerald beams screamed, consuming the flames, melting rock.
The "Magician" was unfazed. He snapped his fingers.
Promethium fuel, laid earlier at the Slaugth's feet, was ignited by "Manipulate Flame," detonating the concealed krak grenades.
With a blast, the Slaugth Destroyer was hurled into the air by the force.
Runes flashed. Ten throwing blades, forged by Vulkan, shot forth.
Shrieking disruption fields tore through the necrotic shroud, shredding clumps of worms.
"Meat-thing, die!" The Slaugth's synthesizer spat icy Low Gothic.
Its worm-arm suddenly expanded. Necrotic fluids spread.
But the next instant, the black-armored figure vanished. Where the fluid burned, a mangled, barely recognizable "paper effigy" rapidly dissolved.
The "Magician" constantly materialized from flames on his prepared stage.
Necrotic rays, worm-arms, like puppets on strings, failed again and again.
The Shadows of Order watched, dazzled, as if witnessing a stage performance.
The "Magician" leaped from a pillar of flame again. His psychic intuition sensed the writhing maggots slowing.
The "Magician's" psychic energy spread outward. He snapped his fingers. Flames erupted at the Slaugth's feet. Crackling force fields hurled it into the air.
Spinning, the Slaugth aimed its necrotic scepter at a flickering pillar of light. An emerald beam lanced out, striking the ground.
There was no pillar of flame, no paper effigy, not even scattered promethium fuel.
The weakened Slaugth Destroyer had been deceived by the "Magician's" "Illusion Creation."
Its arm retracted rapidly. The other arm expanded, reaching for the black armor.
The worm-tentacle grasped empty air, grazing an afterimage.
BOOM!
A pillar of flame erupted, blasting the Slaugth into the air.
Spinning, the Slaugth saw a fleeting black shadow. Its chest worms burst open, surging towards the object.
The feeling of touching something real brought a flash of joy to the Slaugth.
Clusters of maggots wrapped around the 'dissolving' thing, pulling it back into its body. The next instant, a krak grenade detonated inside it.
William, having leaped from the flames, stared at the scattered worms.
The Palace of Pleasure. A long, elegant hand clapped together.
"A perfect performance. It pleases me."
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
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