Chapter 194: Ready to Make a Move
On the planet Astraean, in the Cadia region, the vast main street bustled with market activity and throngs of citizens, painting a beautiful picture. However, human joys and sorrows are not interconnected.
Pope Ericart Meslin of the Temple of the Savior, Emperor, and Saint Euphrates Qile was setting up a sermon platform in the street square to spread their new doctrines, but things were not going as smoothly as they had anticipated.
Ericart Meslin, dressed in a golden temple robe and wearing an ornate holy helmet, had a barely perceptible smile on his face. He raised the sacred emblem with both hands, his voice loud and full of authority.
"Dear citizens of the Imperium, the great Emperor is full of grace for each and every one of us. To save this star sector, to protect our future, the great doctrine of the Emperor's Temple has descended into your lives. There is only one Emperor, one true God, one Savior, one Deliverer. Without him, billions upon billions of souls would become food for the eternally hungry in the Warp. Join us, follow the holy light of the Emperor, and we will no longer be lost. Justice and order will become the guidance for our souls!"
His tone was impassioned, filled with missionary zeal, but these pious words did not move the residents of the square. On the contrary, their gazes were filled with doubt and eye-rolls, and some even showed signs of annoyance.
Even the street beggar couldn't help but complain, "There isn't even a free synthetic egg! What kind of religion are you spreading? Bah!"
Next to Ericart Meslin, Euphrates Qile stood tall. She was dressed in the holy vestments of the Temple, her face as white as snow, and her slightly downcast eyes held a mysterious, serene gaze. Her words were not as impassioned as Meslin's, but her voice was still clear and firm.
"The Emperor's light has illuminated every soul. May we use the power of truth to dispel the darkness from this sky," As she spoke, Euphrates Qile emitted a faint light, as if a miracle was manifesting before them. But even so, no one stopped, which left them utterly bewildered.
"Go away, your doctrine is completely wrong!" the beggar on the ground declared, his eyes shimmering with devotion. "The God-Child of the Emperor is still among us, and the God-Child will bring us light and power!"
"God-Child?" Qile and Meslin exchanged glances, a look of confusion in their eyes. What was a God-Child?
Just as they were about to ask each other, a bell suddenly rang in the distance.
Dong-Dong-Dong!
Hearing the bell, the beggar immediately stood up and happily ran, shouting, "Dinner time! Ya-hoo~"
The crowd dispersed toward the sound. The two followed the beggar's directions and found a large temple filled with worshippers, several priests standing at the front, smiling as they prepared to distribute the holy communion. It wasn't all made of corpse starch; there were also synthetic eggs and cereal.
Qile and Meslin stared, mildly embarrassed. The two exchanged glances, not expecting this cult to resort to such tactics.
"We must report to the Inquisition that there is a cult organization in the Cadia region attempting to corrupt the people of the Imperium through synthetic eggs and cereal," Meslin said, his eyes filled with reverence. "And it's already dire. No one here believes in the Temple of the Savior Emperor. They don't even consider the Emperor as the only God!"
It should be known that other regions all worshipped the Temple of the Savior Emperor. This place was simply a cult den; thus, the Cadia region had already been secretly corrupted, and the Imperium faced its greatest crisis!
Thinking of this, he exaggerated his elaboration.
Shadows lengthened around them. Just as he had someone send the message, an intense light shone directly on their shadowy figures. On the ground was a massive circular halo, with a large bat drawn in the center.
Qile and Meslin froze. In the next second, they felt a sharp pain at the back of their heads, and then everything went black.
Just as Qile struggled to prepare for healing, a giant mace directly knocked her out cold. In the last moment before losing consciousness, she said, "Who exactly are you!"
"I am the embodiment of justice and darkness. I am the Guardian of Cadia!" A bat mask covered Konrad Curze's pale face. At that moment, his heart was racing. Yes, it was this kind of question-and-answer!
A Night Lord holding a mace asked curiously, "Primarch, are we really not going to kill them?"
Konrad Curze spun around abruptly, his black cloak swirling behind him dramatically, and continued, "Take them all to the Cadia Asylum. They need correction!"
The Night Lords exchanged glances. "..."
They whispered amongst themselves. "Forget it! Let's just go to the Eye of Terror for some fun when we're on patrol."
"Add one!" another agreed.
"Add one!" yet another chimed in.
"Add one!" a fourth added.
...
In the Warp...
In the Infernal Temple on the Daemon World of Sicarus, Lorgar was meditating, his figure as majestic as an ancient deity. The power of the Four Gods intertwined in this void, both warm and cold, both intimate and distant.
His eyes were closed, his body radiating purple energy fluctuations that gradually merged into the distorted landscape of the Warp.
Suddenly, a chaotic voice echoed in the depths of his consciousness, deep and seductive, like a dark melody that corroded everything.
"Go! Go and rescue Fulgrim. Your brother is suffering. The ruins of Cadia will become a new battlefield. Fulgrim is trapped in that star sector. Free him, and you shall be his guide."
Lorgar's body trembled violently, and purple energy fluctuations erupted instantly. He abruptly opened his eyes, which glowed with a mysterious and powerful light.
He had received a divine oracle.
"Good, I want to see if it's really as Erebus said!" Lorgar murmured softly, his voice full of doubt.
As the divine oracle ended, everything in the Warp suddenly fell silent, as if a connection had been established between Lorgar and some entity, and a powerful force gathered in his body.
Then he murmured again, "Abaddon, come quickly!"
At the same time, in the Brass Arena, radiating furnace-like heat and roars, the ground was covered with traces of battle.
"Kill! Kill! Kill!" voices chanted. The arena was surrounded by images of flames and darkness, with endless echoes and vibrations. Today's battle attracted countless Chaos Warriors and daemons.
"Abaddon! If you want a blessing, you've come to the wrong place!" the Khorne Berzerker roared madly. "Here, there is only blood and glory! Blood for the Blood God, skulls for the Skull Throne!"
Each swing of his axe almost suffocated the air with pressure, forcing Abaddon to retreat repeatedly. However, despite this, Abaddon still displayed an extremely tenacious fighting spirit. He wielded the Talon of Horus, and although the Khorne Berzerker repeatedly forced him back, his attacks remained resolute, not to be underestimated by anyone.
"Fight! So good!" The Khorne Berzerker's hoarse voice was filled with bloodthirsty pleasure. The power of the Blood God had almost driven him into a state of frenzy, each attack carrying extreme violence and murderous intent.
Abaddon wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. "..."
"I'm fighting my battle! You're fighting yours! Why do you have to fight me?!" he shouted in frustration.
He had initially been guided by a divine oracle that promised blessings for continuous battle victories. But halfway through the fight, this guy charged out!
The axe and the claw clashed violently, erupting in dazzling sparks.
Just as the two reeled back, preparing to clash again, the battle suddenly came to an abrupt halt. The claw and the axe blade stopped in mid-air almost simultaneously, and the air was utterly silent.
The Khorne Berzerker's eyes still glowed blood-red. His axe was already pressed against Abaddon's armor, just an inch from piercing his chest. However, he stopped, sensing an unusual change.
Abaddon was the same. His daemon sword stopped before the Khorne Berzerker's axe blade, the tense air almost suffocating.
"You shall embark on an expedition with Lorgar!" one voice commanded.
"Abaddon, come quickly!" another called.
Clearly, they had both received different orders simultaneously.
...
Days later, in orbit above Sicarus...
Columns of vast warships and legions passed through, including the Black Legion led by Abaddon, the Butcherhorde led by the Khorne Berzerker, and even the Cohors Nasicae and Noise Marines led by Lucius. Their destination was only one, the Daemon World of Sicarus, where Lorgar resided.
At this moment, Lorgar stood silently, like an insurmountable mountain.
"You have arrived," Lorgar's voice echoed like thunder in the void.
Abaddon, clad in black war-plate and wielding his daemon sword, exuded a profound aura of power. Compared to Lorgar's presence, his seemed insignificant, yet he still stood proudly. His gaze was stern and full of deep meaning.
"Lord Lorgar. I bring my Black Legion before you, not to surrender, but to achieve a common purpose," Abaddon declared.
The other two did not speak. However, Lorgar said little. After organizing the troops carefully, they set out in a mighty procession.
...
Meanwhile, on Terra...
On Terra, Guilliman looked at the enormous Death Star in the void before him. He even suspected the other party wanted to smash the planet directly into Terra.
"Francis, what are you doing? Why are you dragging a planet here? What exactly do you want to do?" Guilliman asked.
"Ah, this is the burial ground the Emperor wanted when he was alive... bah, when the Emperor was still awake... no, it's Blackstone material!" Francis pursed his lips twice, hard. "It's just that it's still in the state of a tomb world right now. We just need to dig it out!"
It seemed he was too tired lately; his tongue had slipped.
Guilliman. "..."
After he confirmed this matter with Malcador and the Custodes, he finally felt relieved. Every time he saw Francis, he felt his heart pound. He really had to be on guard!
They proceeded through the palace corridors. As the two arrived at the Hall of the Throne, they saw the Emperor sitting there benignly, eyes closed in contemplation, which made Guilliman lose in thought.
The Soul Drinkers successively placed the Blackstone from the tomb in the Hall of the Throne as it was. They could feel that as the Blackstone increased, the Emperor's aura became more and more apparent, as if he was about to awaken.
"You know, after the old man fell asleep, sitting like this all the time, wouldn't he get hemorrhoids?" Francis remarked.
[End of Chapter]