Chapter 92: Tzeentch's Probe
"Hiss... so this is what it feels like to have your soul torn apart?"
Ramesses rubbed his head. Although his body bore no scars to match the feeling of being sliced by a thousand cuts, his fingers still felt an unimaginable burning sensation when they touched his own skin.
"If we ever really get a VR control system working in the future, I'm definitely making Romulus add a pain editor."
Waiting for the discomfort in his body to dissipate, Ramesses didn't forget to observe the outside world.
"Tzeentch must be overjoyed right now."
Looking at the chaotic state of the Warp, and at the Bloodthirster and the Lord of Change brawling on Pierdra, Ramesses let out a sigh of relief.
Logically speaking, deploying a Greater Daemon of Kairos's caliber should have been very difficult. With the ritual's progress jammed, and with Khorne having already siphoned off souls to forcibly deploy Ka'Bandha, any subsequent Chaos God wanting to project their power should have been limited to opening simple daemon portals.
But you can't account for the transmigrators' cheats.
The ritual was already conveniently stalled by Arthur. Summoning a lesser daemon or two was no problem. And as for the remaining souls, the transmigrators could just make up the difference for the Greater Daemons. Then, using the connection he had just formed with the Lords of Change through his little gambit, he could forcibly drag them out with a ritual.
Refuse? Not an option. Because, in essence, the one who needed to agree to the ritual was Ramesses himself.
Why did you guys have to go and secretly suck on my soul? If you weren't so greedy, this wouldn't have happened, right?
Now that you've lost, you'll just have to sell yourselves into servitude and work for me.
As for the cost... the cost was, of course, immense. Ramesses had spent a lot just on his own soul-wager. But when it needed to be used, it had to be used. After all, the transmigrators didn't have many opportunities to save these psychic points for the next round.
Ka'Bandha was, under normal circumstances, unstoppable. The transmigrators' individual combat abilities were not at that level.
Speaking of which, it's pretty funny that we don't actually have souls. Or rather, that we don't have souls that conform to this universe's concept of them?
Ramesses stared intently at the cloaked Tzeentchian Greater Daemon. He hadn't been reckless enough to put it in the safe house, but had instead placed it in a "park" surrounded by the four shadows. His eyes glowed faintly, the souls he had previously shielded held in his hand, ready to contact the Emperor if things went wrong.
He had discovered recently, from his frequent phone calls, that the Emperor's state in the Warp was indeed not good. His thoughts were incredibly chaotic, and He seemed to be driven only by the concept of "for humanity." As long as there were enough uncorrupted souls, enough to make the Emperor's return on investment positive, He could be spurred into action.
Of course, the most crucial factor was they themselves. Having enjoyed the convenience brought by the transmigrators, the Emperor, for the sake of that convenience, had no choice but to compromise. If He pushed them too far and the transmigrators just packed up and left, He would be in for a world of hurt.
Ramesses had more or less figured out the command prompts for this "NPC" Emperor. Input the correct command, and He will give the correct response. Appealing to emotion was useless. You had to keep your finger on the "uninstall transmigrator experience" button at all times. Although any being that was measured by its value was a tool, since the Emperor didn't treat everyone as a person, then you couldn't treat the Emperor as a person either.
He looked at his "park," at the daemons who, despite showing surprise at the appearance of a Lord of Change, had not stopped their work of transcribing Warp-knowledge. Ramesses nodded with satisfaction.
Hmm, it turns out you can tame daemons after all. I'll add two more rounds of tasks for them later. They're still not dead after working this long, so it seems they can take more.
These daemons were excellent beasts of burden. And there was no psychological burden in using them. It was perfect.
Ramesses looked at the still-confused Tzeentchian daemon, which had already received its task, with a sense of anticipation.
If he could imprison a Greater Daemon, then the update speed of his library of knowledge could be taken to the next level.
"Where is this?" the Lord of Change asked, looking at the scene before it in confusion. This was the first time it had seen such a miraculous sight.
Khornate daemons as overseers, Tzeentchian daemons bound to a single area, constantly transcribing various forms of arcane knowledge, Nurgle and Slaaneshi daemons as test subjects, and all sorts of daemons of Chaos Undivided. Of course, in different blocks, these daemons from all corners of the Warp played other roles.
And all these daemons had one thing in common. They were visibly withered.
"Hiss—"
The Lord of Change's gaze fell upon a Slaaneshi daemon that had fallen into a stupor. No amount of stimulation from the other daemons could elicit an emotional response from it. It couldn't help but suck in a cold breath. This was the first time it had seen so many daemons tortured to this state.
It looked up, curiously observing its surroundings. Unlike these weak daemons, who had almost never received the gaze of their god, it could clearly feel that the Lord of Change's gaze upon it had been blocked.
"Interesting."
Looking at the task list that had popped up before it, which had no cruel punishment mechanism, the Lord of Change was intrigued.
Then how does this place make these daemons so obedient?
It simply sat down on the spot, wanting to experience the wonders of this space.
The surrounding daemons glanced at the meditating Lord of Change, their expressions as if they were looking at their past selves.
You'll be obedient when you realize that even oblivion is a luxury.
Just as the daemons were imagining what the Lord of Change would become, hoping to witness it before their own demise, its body suddenly froze. In the blink of an eye, the Tzeentchian Greater Daemon exploded into a hole in reality.
The daemons panicked, but they didn't dare to stop their work. They could only stare nervously at the hole. Then, the hole "looked" back at them, as if an unseen entity was peering into this world through it.
A continuous stream of azure energy seeped out from it, along with fragmented crystal shards. The flow of time in this area visibly slowed, as if the observer intended to take a closer look at this place.
Ramesses noticed the eye that had poked out from between the spinning fangs of the portal. In a brief moment of misalignment, he sensed the emotions contained within it.
Confusion, curiosity, and desire.
"I knew it," Ramesses whispered. It was a good thing he knew where the transmigrators' bottom line was.
"Lord of Change!" a Pink Horror shrieked, charging excitedly towards the portal, only to be shattered into fragments by the scattered crystal shards.
The god did not care for its own creations. The god only cared for the beings that did not belong to it.
But the god was destined to be disappointed.
This space was not inside the unseen shadow, but a region of the Warp that was shielded from the gods by the shadow.
The spinning fangs gradually became ethereal.
The Lord of Change, somewhat disappointed, withdrew its gaze. It then glanced again at the miraculous scene of the daemons and let out a mocking laugh before departing.
Ramesses did not move immediately.
A short while later, another rift filled with fangs opened. This time, the sacrifices were the Tzeentchian daemons.
I knew it.
"Good thing I'm not Magnus," Ramesses said, shaking his head. He decided to abandon this "park."
This probe was over. The result was neither good nor bad.
He then turned his gaze to his partners.
Ramesses couldn't show himself now. Otherwise, Tzeentch and Khorne would reach a consensus. The conflict between the two gods had to be maintained until the end.
"My mission is complete. Now it's up to you guys," the sorcerer's gaze projected downwards.
At the knight, who was now fighting two-on-one.
(End of Chapter)