Chapter 21: The Last Shadow Wolf

“Lyn Rus, you bastard!”

Monge shouted at Zhou Yun, who stood outside the Corpse Guild’s entrance:

“We’re still inside, and you just sprayed us with a laser rifle?”

Zhou Yun’s lips curled into a brilliant smile: “I never thought it would be so coincidental—you two are here too.”

Malkiet picked up the rusted, decaying triangular sword from the ground and shoved it into his clothes.

He stared at Zhou Yun with mild disbelief; this man clearly knew he and Monge were inside the Corpse Guild.

Malkiet and Monge had both been masked until now,

yet Zhou Yun recognized them at a glance, and showed no surprise at their being mutants,

which meant Zhou Yun had been watching them from nearby the moment they removed their hoods and entered the Corpse Guild.

Malkiet couldn’t help but shake his head.

Monge seemed oblivious to this, muttering a few curses about Zhou Yun’s lack of honor.

Yet Zhou Yun’s brilliant smile never faded, sending a chill down Malkiet’s spine.

“Though I nearly wounded you, I also saved your lives.”

Zhou Yun stood two or three meters from the Corpse Guild’s entrance, addressing them:

“And the fact that you two are mutants? That’s not good at all.”

Suddenly, twelve laser rifles rose behind Zhou Yun, all aimed at Monge and Malkiet.

Monge froze in place; Malkiet’s body stiffened slightly.

“Lyn Rus, we are mutants, yes—but we’re not criminals.”

Malkiet slowly raised his hands and shook his head:

“Everything I said before was true—we came here to save Asford.”

“We… we were guided by the Angel.”

“The Angel?” Zhou Yun visibly paused.

“Yes, the Angel.” Malkiet nodded firmly.

“Which Angel?” Zhou Yun’s lips curved into an intrigued smile.

“Who else could it be?” Malkiet shook his head.

“Oh, how coincidental—I was guided by the Angel too,” Zhou Yun said, nodding with a smile.

This time, it was Malkiet who froze, studying Zhou Yun from head to toe.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Malkiet muttered under his breath.

“I agree,” Zhou Yun said, nodding in agreement.

Then he turned his gaze to the Corpse Guild behind Monge and Malkiet.

“Since I saved your lives, and we’re all guided by the Angel—”

“Could you do me a favor?”

Zhou Yun said with a light laugh:

“There’s a safe with a small stasis field installed. Did you see it? Help me bring it out.”

Upon hearing this, Monge and Malkiet both froze.

Malkiet glanced at Zhou Yun—standing two or three meters from the Corpse Guild’s entrance, arms crossed, twelve laser rifles hovering behind him—and his lips twitched.

Clearly, he had no intention of stepping inside the Corpse Guild at all.

“Damn heavy,” Monge grumbled.

The one-meter-tall ceramic-steel safe had been dragged out of the Corpse Guild by both him and Malkiet.

Zhou Yun reached out and gently traced his fingers over the safe’s ceramic-steel casing,

whose true value lay not in its thick shell, but in the small stasis field inside—

a remnant of Golden Age human research into time technology, capable of creating a region where time nearly halted.

Beyond the field, this technology had once been weaponized into devices called “Stasis Bombs.”

Lucas the Deceiver of the Space Wolves had replaced his own heart with a Stasis Bomb,

so that if any fool killed him, the bomb would detonate, freezing both killer and killed in timeless stasis.

According to Old One-Eye’s intel, the stasis field in this safe was a degraded version, capable only of slowing time slightly.

But for preserving a notebook, it was more than enough.

He pulled the Anywhere Ring from his fourth-dimensional pocket and clipped it onto the safe,

and through the circular aperture created by the ring, Zhou Yun saw what was stored inside:

a notebook bound in thick cream-colored paper, wrapped in soft black lamb leather, with an elastic strap attached.

Bondzman No. 7, custom-made by Ignes Kalkas from a hive city in the Terra polar region—only two hundred copies produced.

Zhou Yun slowly used telekinesis to draw the notebook from the safe,

and though ten thousand years had passed, it had clearly been preserved with care.

“What’s this notebook?” Monge asked, his curiosity piqued.

He was clearly intrigued by a notebook requiring a stasis field for preservation,

especially one kept in the office of the Corpse Guild’s divisional director.

“Probably just a collection of poems,” Zhou Yun said, shaking the notebook in his hand.

After glancing at the notebook and seeing no signs of ancient blasphemous sorcery, Monge lost interest.

Zhou Yun held the notebook and began recalling the works of this poet from ten thousand years ago:

“Praise of Unity,” “The Imperial Epic,” “Oceanic Poems,” “Introspection and Hymns,”

and the one that got him killed: “We Have Only Truth.”

He wondered which one was inside.

Zhou Yun opened the notebook and found a slip of paper Jiazaifeiyejian , clearly torn from the book.

It bore heavy, forceful script—too powerful to be the hand of a mortal.

A soft sigh came from the winged figure within the white light at Zhou Yun’s corner.

“It’s Captain Loken’s handwriting,” he whispered.

Captain Loken, commander of the Tenth Company of the Sons of Horus, member of the Four Kings Council advising Horus, once stood beside Abaddon at the Warmaster’s side.

He was the loyalist Sons of Horus, the last Shadow Wolf of Istvaan III.

The slip was a battle oath—a vow Astartes typically swore before combat.

But this oath was written by Captain Loken to the mortal Ignes Kalkas, demanding he keep silence.

“I swear to Captain Gavriel Loken, by Terra and the Emperor, to keep strictly secret all that transpired tonight, and to reveal nothing of it to any soul.”

Zhou Yun whispered the words on the slip.

Then he turned the page:

“Captain Loken demanded I keep silence, but First Captain Abaddon nearly broke my neck—I need to vent my fear.”

“This is my private journal. Writing down what just happened—surely that doesn’t break my oath?”

“As I told Captain Loken: ‘Even the most gifted actor could never match Erebus’s performance today.’”

“Erebus claims Viceroy Tamb betrayed Horus—not the Emperor. He turned it into a personal grudge, manipulating and deceiving the Warmaster.”

“This can’t be good. First Captain Abaddon may have been involved too.”

“I saw him hand Erebus a silver coin. Perhaps a token of some warrior brotherhood.”

(End of Chapter)