Chapter 370: No One Understands Victory Better Than Tzeentch
Fate played another joke on a lost soul.
The Daemon Prince in radiant armor trembled, his hoarse throat screaming with all its might:
"Run! Run!"
The daemons were scrambling, the greed and malice churning in their souls instantly dispelled.
Countless daemons, just by catching a glimpse out of the corner of their eyes, were scared into thinking they were dreaming by the figure of the golden-masked sorcerer and the monstrous aura radiating from behind him.
Facing this pressure directly, the Daemon Prince couldn't even move.
That domain, accelerating time, approached helplessly. The form constructed in the material universe turned into sand and dissipated in the blink of an eye, but the soul was nowhere to be found.
The escaping sand blew against the tentacles and horns, making them droop in despair, squeezing together with colleagues who had just rushed out of the portal. The chariots rushing out first knocked these disorganized colleagues over, then many Tzeentchian daemons cried and fled in all directions.
In the chaos, scattered corpses lay on the ground. The more they wanted to leave, the greater the resistance.
Colorful flames drank deep of the change they brought, burning their corpses.
"Tzeentch—"
The Daemon Prince's roar was completely drowned out by a judgment delayed for who knows how many years.
"Why! Why!"
Abraxes questioned loudly.
He racked his brains, put on a good show, wasn't it just to please the Changer of Ways and survive?
Tzeentch, my performance was so splendid, you... you...
Is it so hard to change the target?
"Stop complaining, I'm here to collect you."
Ramesses's hand rested on Abraxes's forehead.
"Wait, Formless Lord, my lord, my master, I am willing to offer my True Name, I master countless secrets, I can serve you!"
Abraxes hissed and wailed, without any psychological burden of serving two masters.
He just wanted to live; what was wrong with that?
"Do you know why I thrive in the warp?"
Rarely, facing a daemon to whom he was usually cruel, Ramesses chose to respond.
"?"
"Have you eaten?"
"?"
Abraxes looked blank.
"What a pity, you don't understand."
Ramesses looked regretful.
Abraxes's body in realspace was annihilated.
His soul clawed at the vortex, then fell into a hotter purgatory.
That was the Eternal Burning Land, the domain of a secondary warp god.
The sorcerer clapped his hands.
Ramesses felt his wisest decision was to unilaterally refuse to communicate with daemons, adopting a one-size-fits-all measure against them, and not trying to engage in any messy conspiracies or recruit minions.
Those who play with people are constantly played by people.
"Master Art."
Ramesses turned and greeted, and Arthur in black armor appeared.
He had been monitoring this place to prevent the situation from getting out of hand, worsening the condition of the Phalanx, which had been scarred since ten thousand years ago.
With his approach, the prairie fire on this unknown section of the Phalanx also extinguished.
"Not killing them on the spot this time?"
Scanning the traces with his emerald eyes, Arthur could sense these daemons didn't die immediately.
This brief farce was over.
Ramesses was responsible for activating his innate daemon-loving ability.
The Dark Angels were responsible for arresting those corrupted Chaplains and going to the Phalanx to arrest the Dreadnought Daenyathos, corrupted thousands of years ago in the Soul Drinkers Chapter, then writing a report and conducting interrogation by the Dreadwing, and finally handing them over to the Soul Drinkers.
Whether to disclose it to the Imperial Fists successor Chapters was entirely up to Sarpedon himself.
"Waste utilization. The consumables for stress testing on Karna's side aren't enough. After all, Old Ro finally grabbed a Machine God slot; we have to figure out where the upper limit is."
Ramesses sighed.
Romulus was enjoying himself recently. After playing Stellaris with overexpansion explosion, sky-high latency, and pages of debuffs for a long time, he finally successfully added a tech tree system, enabling practical application of a large number of technologies. He no longer had to rely solely on special NPCs like Ramesses and Arthur to trigger special events for technological advancement and then struggle with whether to use them.
But because there were several Machine Gods, the capacity was limited.
Although Romulus had begun to actively promote the faith linking the Regent to the Machine God among technical personnel, compared to Karna whose base occupied almost 90% of the Imperium, expanding capacity was still a relatively long process.
To avoid burying hidden dangers for technology promotion and to prevent the hard-earned slot from being pried away, Ramesses was conducting stress tests on Karna's domain out of caution.
The Angel faith didn't need to worry about extraneous matters, pointing directly to Sanguinius and Karna. Unless Sanguinius fell, the safety factor was very high.
And their premise that they wouldn't be interfered with by emotions attached to those beliefs was also important.
"Tzeentch is cooperative."
Arthur never quite understood the brain circuits of the Evil Gods.
"Because there are benefits. After all, He is the God of Change."
Ramesses replied helplessly: "Although with a normal person's thinking, there is indeed no need to have any unrealistic fantasies about the IQ of a Tzeentchian daemon. These Greater Daemons may not be better at conspiracies than High Lords, and teammates hold each other back more than those High Lord family members, and even the boss is purely abstract."
"But just as Tzeentch tirelessly throws daemons at us to probe, earning more change—"
Ramesses shrugged, pointing at the portal completely disabled by Arthur's arrival, shaking his head helplessly.
"From the moment this Daemon Prince stood here, Tzeentch had already won."
A result that completely broke the shackles of fate, an ending that had never appeared in countless timelines.
As long as He intervened in this, regardless of success or failure of the subject, Tzeentch's power grew.
Sigh, the so-called study of winning: winning by winning, winning even by not winning!
No one understands victory better than Tzeentch.
"Many times, I feel our uniqueness just puts us on the same starting line."
Speaking of this, Ramesses couldn't help but sigh softly: "The burden is heavy and the road is long."
"Our power is just a primer; the key is people. The ability of psycho-materialization cannot directly create a planet even with countless resources, but people helped by us can build a great home with a star system."
Arthur nodded in agreement, not despising the opponent with his own advantages, only then could he see his own abilities clearly.
"Indeed, otherwise I wouldn't have gone to research the warp. Relying on the four of us to kill slowly, who knows if we can kill more daemons than those died in the Great Game even after eons."
Ramesses also joked optimistically.
"Learn from barbarians to control barbarians."
"Good luck."
Arthur didn't dampen the mood but encouraged seriously.
Compared to Ramesses, who was always responsible for exploring the unknown, his pressure was much less currently.
He was responsible for ensuring everything could start over after a possible crash.
Whether this future existed was another matter.
If there was anything most fortunate, it was that although the four of them had their own shortcomings, none of them held the others back.
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