Struck through the heart, Ursun's heartbeat stopped in an instant.
Though its rhythm had always been silent, the world itself seemed to fall still with its final cessation.
An invisible weight pressed suddenly upon the breast of every soul born to this world.
A tidal wave of grief swept through all hearts at once—each person knew, with unshakable certainty, that a great being bound to their very existence was about to perish.
The next heartbeat, a torrent of divine power erupted from the wound in Ursun's heart, raging forth like a flood unchained after millennia of captivity, obliterating everything in its path.
Yet before the reformed phantom of Khorne, this violent power was as meek as a lamb.
It needed no command—of its own accord, the essence gathered together once more, shaping into a vast current of energy. No longer savage, it surged past the barrier of Ursun's throat and caught the falling Roya in its embrace.
"No! Skull Throne! How could you do this to me!"
Belakor, in the midst of gorging upon divine blood, suddenly sensed Ursun's essence had chosen another. With sheer force of will, he tore his body free of its hunger and staggered toward Ursun's maw.
"All these years—I have offered you the skulls of countless champions! I have built for you innumerable halls of bone!"
"Why? Why would you abandon me—and bestow this precious gift upon some base-born insect who knows nothing of your greatness?!"
The answer came in Kaido's mocking voice:
"If you had truly served the Skull Throne, you would know—there is no glory more radiant than to be slain by one stronger than yourself!"
"Prepare yourself, Belakor. Your destiny awaits…"
Belakor, forcing himself forward, whipped his gaze back with fury:
"Silence, you Slaaneshi filth! Under the shadow of Khorne's phantom, how dare your kind profane this place! The slaughter of every servant of Slaanesh—that is the truest glory of the Blood God!"
Kaido only chuckled coldly, his eyes upon Belakor filled with utter contempt.
Belakor's pupils shrank in sudden realization. He cried out:
"No—you are no Slaaneshi cur… You are the Hand of Tzeentch! Insolent wretch—you dared to weave even me into your schemes!"
As the two spoke, the aura of Khorne faded away without a trace, vanishing along with the oppressive weight that Ursun's death had pressed upon the world.
All seemed returned to the silence of the age before Ursun's coming.
His corpse drifted in the air like a body cast into the void, weightless, rising slowly as though it might ascend into the heavens.
The doubt upon Belakor's face curdled into savage rage. His skeletal longsword appeared in hand once more, and he snarled:
"What trickery remains? Will you summon even the shadow of Father Nurgle next?"
"Now I shall cut you both down and reclaim the Bear God's power. Who dares stand against me?"
A figure wreathed in gleaming golden blood appeared at his back in a flash.
Two slender arms seized his wings—
Rend!
With a sickening tear, Belakor's wings were ripped from his body.
Only then, wracked with agony, did he realize how grievously he had been wounded.
He swung his skeletal blade in desperation, once sharp enough to pierce demi-gods. Yet when it struck the figure, it rang like steel against steel. The rebound shattered his fingers, sending the blade flying from his grasp.
"What… what power is this? The Bear God's essence cannot be so strong! Were it so, not even Khorne Himself would have forsaken it!"
Terror welled in him as he struggled to turn and see the one who had undone him.
But warm, slender hands pierced his back with ease, breaching the hide he had once believed invincible against all blade and sorcery. They clamped upon his spine.
And then they pulled.
His back split apart, opening to meet the wound already torn across his chest, forming a single ghastly rift—horribly perfect in symmetry.
His body shattered. The Chaos power he had hoarded for centuries bled out of him, flowing into those hands, consumed utterly.
Worse yet—the mysterious tome, fused into his flesh and blood, the source of his ever-shifting form, slid loose of its own accord, falling into those hands as if it belonged to them.
With the book torn away, his life unraveled. The so-called eternal Chaos Prince was revealed for what he was: no more than a fleeting page within that tome.
Kaido and the Beast Battalion, their feast of blood complete, prostrated themselves before the golden figure.
"Congratulations, Lord Roya—who has claimed the Bear God's power and ascended to godhood!"
The golden blood ebbed into him, revealing his form.
But in his eyes swirled a purple mist.
His gaze fell upon the tome seized from Belakor.
"The Book of Fate! At last, I may touch with my own hands the Book of Fate I myself inscribed!"
Roya's voice interwove with another—alien, enthralling—until they merged into one strange, compelling resonance.
His fingers traced the tome's arcane sigils, sliding at last to the cover's edge, ready to lift it—
But in that instant, a violet bolt of lightning crashed down, striking the tome and halting his hand.
Roya lifted his eyes to see the Violet Lightning Dragon descending. He laughed softly:
"Miaoying. That you should witness the descent of my true self into this mortal world—why, it makes a fitting welcome from this realm indeed."
Miaoying's roar split the skies:
"So it was you—Tzeentch! You may have forced this vessel to godhood by trickery, but how long can it endure your essence?!"
The purple mists in Roya's eyes thinned, revealing black pupils once more. With hands clasped behind his back, he smiled:
"You thought I did all this to conquer your petty mortal realm? How absurd.
This vessel's origin, the source of his soul—that is my true goal. Compared to that, this world is nothing."
"This body, and the seed of spirit within it, are the key to that place! Squabble on if you wish—transcendence is the only path I seek!"
"What… what is happening?!"
The voice of Tzeentch faltered, dissonant.
The two voices, once joined, were torn apart again.
Roya's own voice rose above, his left eye now aglow with gentle gold.
"Thank you… for telling me what I needed to know."
"You accursed mortal! You sealed your soul beforehand—left this body to me on purpose?!"
"Do not worry. I will seal you within this vessel forever."
"You cannot bind me!"
"Not only you. With this body you so carefully forged for me, I will storm the realms of Chaos themselves—and bind your three brothers as well."
"Impossible! By what right do you command greater control than I?!"
With a mere gesture, Roya struck down Kaido and the Beast battalion, their bodies collapsing into nothing but struggling shades that soon dissolved into the air.
Then, turning, he fixed Miaoying with a long, deep gaze.
One eye of gold, one of violet-black.
And with a single step, he crossed into the veiled, shifting warp-space—departing upon a new and unknowable path.
P.S: To all my wonderful Webnovel supporters — thank you from the bottom of my heart for staying with me on this journey all the way to the very end. Your encouragement, patience, and support made it possible for me to bring this story to its conclusion and share it with you in full. Even though this chapter closes here, the world of imagination and creation never truly ends — and I'm excited for the new stories we'll explore together.
This ending is as much yours as it is mine. Thank you for being part of it. 💙
(FIN)
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