Chapter 182: Finish the Swarm, Then You Can Go Home!

"Do you remember who guided you, correct?"

Zhou Yun's lips curled into a perfectly measured smile—gentle, yet not unpleasant.

Though his appearance was so young, his tone resembled that of an elder instructing a lost Dante.

That tone even stirred memories in Dante of his father, Areias.

What terrified Dante most was that Zhou Yun's words were entirely accurate—exactly his experience at age eleven.

Zhou Yun described it in such meticulous detail, every single fragment flawless, as if he had been watching Dante at the time.

Most crucially, when Dante had nearly died of thirst in the desert,

"He guided you, didn't he?" Zhou Yun asked with a smile. "When you were on the verge of dying of thirst in the desert—the figure clad in golden armor, with pure white metallic wings, and a thorned halo hovering behind his head?"

"He wore a sword as tall as a man at his waist, red-and-white insignia on his shoulder plates, and held aloft a chalice brimming with crimson blood."

Dante's body trembled slightly.

He had indeed seen it—when he was about to perish of thirst in the desert, an angel descended amid the golden sands, showing him the way.

For the past thousand years, Dante had believed it was the angel's protection; without that protection, he would have perished long ago on the path to the trial.

Dante had never spoken of it, nor had he ever thought a dark god could easily spy upon a moment guarded by Saint Guilliman.

Could it be… could it be that Saint Guilliman was not the only one watching over him? Dante stared at Zhou Yun; the man's smile stirred doubt within him.

Dante's thousand years of experience revealed not a trace of falsehood—only sincerity.

"He showed you the way, led you to a corpse. On that corpse were four bottles of water—all you had dreamed of during your week trapped in the desert."

"I remember how you used your staff to dig a pit in the sand and buried the body as best you could, then prayed to the Emperor, begging his soul to rest upon the Golden Throne—and you thanked him for his hope."

"You should know I am the Lord of Death. When I witnessed this, I was deeply satisfied with you."

Zhou Yun's voice gently brushed against Dante's memories:

"You understand the value of death. You are a good child—you will make a fine Chapter Master."

"I said exactly that to Saint Guilliman then, and he nodded in approval of you."

Dante fell silent, unable for a moment to judge whether Zhou Yun spoke truth or lie.

It seemed as if Zhou Yun had truly watched Dante embark on the trial, had truly seen Saint Guilliman guide him.

If all this were truly Zhou Yun's lie, Dante had to admit—he was the finest actor in the entire galaxy.

"Your performance in the first trial was excellent. You refused to raise your blade against your comrades, preserving your humanity's nobility and morality."

"This is precisely what we need. Louis of Baal. We do not want the future Chapter Master of the Blood Angels to abandon his humanity—because Blood Angels bear such a terrible curse; once they believe themselves to be heartless weapons, they will inevitably be consumed by Bloodlust and Black Rage."

"Deep within your heart, beneath Dante's face, you are still the salt merchant's son. That is why we chose you."

"The burden of a thousand years is not one anyone can bear. You must carry every curse and toil, and stand here now within the Angel's Keep."

Zhou Yun's face bore deep sorrow; he sighed softly:

"Salt-boy, for humanity, you have suffered immense pain. You should have found release and peace long ago. You have earned this reward a thousand times over."

"But he cannot. Nor can I. Even as Death itself, I cannot grant you peaceful slumber."

"You must still bear pain. You must still make difficult choices. You must still fight for humanity."

"Now, Salt-boy Dante—tell me: do you trust me?"

Standing in the corner of the room, Mephiston stared in horror at this scene.

His face was etched with bewilderment and fear—was he meant to hear this conversation?

That entity from the Warp had just claimed… claimed that Dante's ascension as Chapter Master had been orchestrated by him and Saint Guilliman??

And yet Dante had not refuted a single word Zhou Yun had spoken?

Mephiston involuntarily recalled everything he knew of Dante—and began to sense, faintly, that Dante's life had been filled with too many coincidences, as if deliberately arranged.

From Dante's trial, to becoming a Blood Angel, to becoming the Blood Angels' Chapter Master—

Instantly, Mephiston's gaze toward Dante turned strange.

He felt he himself was not Erebus—Dante was Erebus. A life scripted by Warp entities.

Dante remained silent for a long while, then slowly spoke: "Will I die? Will I finally find the rest I desire?"

"Yes," Zhou Yun lied without blinking. "I promise you."

"On the final day of the Battle of Baal, when humanity finds its hope, you shall receive the rest you deserve."

"Dante, you are Saint Guilliman's finest child. This is what you have earned."

"I… I am almost convinced," Dante whispered, his face pale, his expression wavering.

The power behind Zhou Yun's words was overwhelming—even Dante's thousand-year-worn mind felt powerless to resist.

He could sense no trace of Warp energy in that voice—not like the seduction of Tzeentch's Daemon.

Besides… "Besides, I cannot imagine any Dark God who would tempt a man with death as rest."

Dante gave a bitter smile.

Tzeentch craved endless change. The Blood God thirsted for eternal slaughter. Slaanesh delighted in excess. Nurgle cherished every life.

None of the four would ever tempt a man with the promise of peaceful death.

"Louis. Dante," Zhou Yun said softly. "You must decide. Your thousand-year mission is ending."

Dante lowered his head in silence.

Zhou Yun's words had stripped away every mask Dante wore, exposing the salt merchant's son beneath.

Through the mirror on the desk, Dante's eyes shimmered with uncertainty.

He almost believed Zhou Yun's words—even felt a strange warmth toward him.

Yet deep in his mind, the reason honed over a thousand years still fought back, warning him of the danger.

"I will consider this," Dante said, his face pale as he suppressed the urge to agree.

His experience told him never to decide on impulse—he needed time to cool down.

Zhou Yun watched this, and merely nodded slightly.

Leveraging his understanding of Dante's life and the Jizhi performance granted by the cue cards and robot director, Zhou Yun gave a decisive push to Dante's inner scales. That was enough; over time, the impact of those words would not fade but grow stronger, increasingly driving Dante toward the actions Zhou Yun desired.

Leveraging his knowledge of Dante's life and the flawless acting granted by the Hot-Script Board & Robot Director, Zhou Yun had pushed hard enough on Dante's inner scale. That was sufficient. Over time, the impact of those words would not fade—it would grow stronger, steadily steering Dante toward the action Zhou Yun desired.

"It's fine," Zhou Yun smiled gently. "We have waited a thousand years. We can wait a little longer—after all, the timing is not yet right."

"But before the Swarm descends, I wish to hear your answer."

Zhou Yun must wait until the Hive Mind arrives and blocks the Warp before he can resurrect Saint Guilliman—otherwise, he would have to face the Blood God's direct assault.

Besides, there was still Kabanha—the Bloodthirster already attempting to invade Baal.

"Then I will be disappointed. But I still stand by the choice my brother Saint Guilliman and I made that day. You are a good Blood Angel, Dante—perhaps the best."

"Then I will be disappointed. But I still stand by the choice I made with Saint Guilliman a thousand years ago. You are a good Blood Angel, Dante—perhaps the best."

Zhou Yun shook his head gently.

"But I must fulfill my pact with the Lord of Baal. I will achieve my goal in my own way, Dante."

"But I must fulfill my pact with the Lord of Baal. I will achieve my goal in my own way, Dante."

Dante fell silent, then slowly nodded. "I will give you my answer within the next few days. Mephiston, arrange lodging for this lord."

Standing in the corner, Mephiston, his face still pale with shock, nodded blankly.

What he had just heard was too horrifying.

If Zhou Yun spoke truth, then Dante had been placed as Chapter Master by Warp entities.

If Zhou Yun lied… that was even more terrifying. His power to deceive surpassed even Tzeentch's Daemons.

"Good," Zhou Yun nodded slightly, smiling as he pushed open the red-pink wooden door. Beyond it glowed the light of the star Adalia.

Clearly, it led to the Holy Sun Vault of the Blood Angels' Librarius.

The star's light—bound and compressed by the Emperor's own psychic power—shone upon Zhou Yun, yet his expression remained unchanged, as if unaffected.

Dante noticed this, and his doubt lessened slightly.

"Dante," Zhou Yun turned to face him. "Your father is proud of you."

Dante's pupils contracted. He asked without thinking: "Which one?"

Zhou Yun smiled, unsurprised. "Both."

With that, Zhou Yun and Mephiston vanished through the wooden door, which then disappeared from its place.

Only Dante remained, sitting alone in the office, wearily pressing his palms to his forehead.

Within the Holy Sun Vault, Zhou Yun regarded the star hovering in midair with interest.

He knew it was bound by the Emperor's psychic power—how much was this thing worth?

"My lord," Mephiston whispered. "What you just said—"

Zhou Yun noticed Mephiston's expression, blinked, and said: "Of course it's true. I'm not some blue-haired bird."

"Look at this sincere face of mine—does it look like I'm lying?"

Mephiston's eye twitched slightly at Zhou Yun's words.

"Enough. We've done all we can for Dante. Now let's talk about the Warp."

"For Kabanha, I have an idea. Can you lure him to a specific location?"

"For example… into a semi-circular pocket?"

"Huh?" Mephiston's face twisted in confusion.

【97】 (End of Chapter)