Chapter 127: The Worm of the Underworld

Writhing, hundreds of six-limbed bodies crawled across the black ceiling.

Captain Kaelen and Afore held their breath as they watched.

“By the Blood of Saint Guilliman,” Captain Kaelen muttered involuntarily,

finally realizing he was seeing a swarm of Gene-Stealers clinging to the stained-glass ceiling.

The Gene-Stealers rained down from above.

The crimson glow of Asford’s twin suns streamed through the stained glass, scattering chaotic colors across the entire hall.

Captain Kaelen now saw clearly: the stained glass depicted Saint Guilliman’s great sacrifice.

“Get out of the way, Captain!!!”

Afore roared, his chain-fist humming as it tore through the Gene-Stealers closing in on them.

Captain Kaelen swung his Hammer of Bal with desperate speed, shattering the skulls of the creatures lunging at him.

“Damn it, they really prepared a welcome for us!” Afore cursed in fury.

The other eighteen Terminators formed a line and opened fire on the falling rain of Gene-Stealers.

Blood rained down in dense sheets, splattering the Astartes’ crimson armor.

“Captain!” Afore tore off a creature’s head and shouted at Captain Kaelen: “You need to go!”

His chain-saw severed several Gene-Stealers closing in; their blood sprayed over the warrior’s missing leg.

He leaned hard against the wall, struggling to stay upright under the relentless assault:

“I’ll buy you time! I’ll make them pay in blood!”

“Go! For the sake of Saint Guilliman! Don’t let me be your burden!”

Hearing Afore’s roar, Captain Kaelen hesitated for a moment,

but years of training forced an instant response.

He cursed his own weakness and moved swiftly toward the remaining eighteen Terminators.

Captain Kaelen heard Afore’s chain-fist screaming in rage—as if the machine-soul itself was venting its final fury.

Then the tide of Gene-Stealers swallowed Afore, and Captain Kaelen had to move.

Gene-Stealers poured in from all sides—he had to retreat quickly, or the remaining nineteen would meet the same fate.

“Not in the Blood of Saint Guilliman!!!!!!” Afore’s roar echoed behind them.

The Worms of the Underworld walked atop corpses—mostly those of their own offspring.

Gazing upon his offspring’s corpses, a part of the Worm’s soul that should not have existed stirred.

Logically, as the Hive Mind’s proxy on this world and leader of the Gene-Stealers, he should not have felt such emotion.

All must die; death leads to the digestion pools, becoming part of the Hive, reborn in new forms with new meaning.

The Worm knew this, understood it, and accepted that no other path existed for him or his brood.

Yet despite this, the Worm burned with rage at his offspring’s deaths.

He stepped over their bodies, knowing his assault had failed.

Too many of his brood had fallen; too little had been gained. More red-armored warriors fled deeper into the palace.

All that remained for him was

the warrior clad in red power armor, still fighting.

His weapon was broken—before it shattered, it had taken many of his offspring’s lives.

His armor was torn open, exposing snapped cables, ceramite, and mechanical components.

One leg was severed; blood pooled beneath him. Any normal man would have died from shock.

Yet despite utter hopelessness, he fought bare-handed against his offspring.

The Worm’s mind should not have known the emotion of “admiration,” yet watching the warrior still fight, a strange feeling stirred within him.

“ROAR!!!”

The Worm let out a low growl and lunged onto the red-armored warrior, pinning him to the ground.

His claws ripped off the helmet, revealing pale skin and golden hair.

“Freak!” The warrior spat a mouthful of saliva onto the Worm’s face.

The Worm did not care. He only wanted to see the warrior’s will.

Psychic energy surged from him, wrapping his profane will and stabbing into the warrior’s mind.

The Worm ignored the warrior’s struggles and curses, focusing solely on probing his thoughts, extracting and examining each one.

He wanted to know: why had they come here? Why had they invaded his domain?

The Worm tasted the flavor of his consciousness, touching the depths of his mind.

Afore—that was the warrior’s name. Then Barthol, Kaelen—names the Worm now saw one by one.

He learned the names of these invaders.

Names were useful things. Names were keys, marking a person’s identity.

The Worm once had a name. Logically, he should not have had one.

In the Hive, none were special; none needed names.

Yet the Worm had a name.

Tiberius. Augustus—that tiny name he kept buried deep within his darkest, foulest thoughts.

The name his parents gave him. But that name was betrayed.

Yes, betrayed. The only emotion he had ever felt through long years: the rage of betrayal.

He remembered how his brother betrayed him, how the guards and nobles betrayed him, how they killed his parents.

All were traitors. None were innocent.

He would make the traitors pay in blood. He would set Asford ablaze.

“ROAR!!!!!!”

The Worm roared in furious frustration—this warrior named Afore refused to reveal even a shred of vital information. The Worm still did not know why they had come.

A concentrated point of immense psychic power gathered on the Worm’s body.

He gripped Afore’s skull, fixing his single crimson eye upon him with all his focus, utterly ignoring the warrior’s futile punches against his chest carapace.

The Worm saw what lay deep within his mind.

The warrior’s feeble resistance shattered beneath the Worm’s assault, exposing the deeper truths beneath.

A hunger—for blood. Cruel and mad.

A rage—for death. Terrible and grotesque.

And a hope. And a duty. Ah—this was their purpose. To heal the hunger and the rage.

They needed to find it. The Worm tasted the name.

Augustus. Flax!!!!!!

The Worm unleashed an uncontrollable roar of fury, pouring his wrath into that name.

His muscles tensed violently, nearly tearing apart Afore’s augmented body—

“Notice: The Worm of the Underworld, Gene-Stealer Chieftain, Tiberius. Augustus. I, the Phantom Thief Doraradx, shall steal your life.”

A slightly awkward voice suddenly spoke.

A thin, sharp notice letter flew like a throwing dart.

The Worm, lost in rage, noticed nothing.

SSSHHH!!!

“AHHHHHH!!!”

Blood gushed from the Worm’s last remaining eye, blinding the monstrous beast entirely.

He hurled Afore away, clutching his eyes with both hands, howling in agony.

Afore crashed into the corner of the hall, staring blankly at the scene before him.

!. Read

Brilliant light from the stained-glass ceiling streamed down, bathing the figure in the hall’s center.

It was a tall man, two meters high, draped in a black cloak, wearing a black top hat and monocle, dressed in a black suit.

Strangely, his body was covered in a layer of silver metal—as if it were some kind of power armor.

Before Afore could react,

the man’s figure dissolved into a blur and vanished from his spot.

When he reappeared, he stood instantly before the Worm.

His metal-clad fist swung hard toward the Worm’s face.

Though blind, the Worm’s psychic sense still granted him awareness of his surroundings.

Layers of psychic energy formed barriers, stacking up to block the self-proclaimed Phantom Thief Doraradx’s punch.

No.

Afore watched in shock as the Worm’s psychic shields shattered layer by layer, like fragile ice.

Then the metal fist struck the Worm’s skull. His facial muscles twisted; his seven-meter body was flung violently backward.

Such strength! Such terrifying speed!!!

Afore had once seen Chapter Master Dante in the arena.

Yet even that old warrior moved slower and possessed far less power than this man.

Was it the power armor’s effect?

Can such a slender powered suit possess this kind of power?

Or is the figure inside the powered suit not human—but a Spirit Folk or another humanoid alien?

Zhou Yun looked at his fist covered in metal; beneath the Ghoulish DX suit, he wore Super Gloves.

But that punch, even after being weakened by layer upon layer of psychic shields, was still not enough to kill the Hellworm.

With the Hive Mind’s arrival, the power of this abomination surged further.

“ROOOOAR!!!!”

A bestial roar erupted as the Hellworm burst from the smoke.

Half its face had been nearly crushed by Zhou Yun’s blows, yet it still lived.

The alien creature showed no hesitation—it turned and tried to flee.

Meanwhile, the Gene Thieves around him began surging toward Zhou Yun.

The psychic hat beneath Zhou Yun’s top hat flared sharply, and ninety laser rifles materialized beside him.

Lasers poured forth, each shot precisely claiming the life of a Gene Thief.

Alfrey couldn’t help but gasp in awe at this flawless marksmanship.

At that moment, Zhou Yun swiftly reached into his fourth-dimensional pocket.

Before Alfrey’s stunned gaze, a massive construct of steel appeared in the hall.

(End of Chapter)