Chapter 210: The Time Cloth

A cloth embroidered with clock patterns was pulled from Zhou Yun's fourth-dimensional pocket.

One side of the cloth was bright red, the other deep blue, adorned with countless intricate clocks; as it fluttered in the wind, it seemed like a stream of flowing time drifting in Zhou Yun's hands.

【Item Name: Time Cloth】

【Origin: 22nd Century Earth — Future Department Store】

【Manufacture Date: 241. 3】

【Function: A square wrapping cloth embroidered with various clock motifs, red on the front, blue on the back. When the red side faces outward and covers an object, the object's time reverses toward the past; when the blue side faces outward, the object's time accelerates. The longer the waiting period, the greater the amount of time reversed or accelerated.】

【Rental Price: 1, 95, 00, 00 per use】

Zhou Yun watched his over ten-billion-credit deposit, exchanged for Star God fragments, vanish in an instant, a pang of anguish crossing his face.

One billion four hundred ninety-nine million five hundred thousand — a time-based item usable only once. It was far too expensive.

I hope this works. I hope Saint Guilliman remembers to compensate me for this loss.

After receiving the dream from the winged figure within Bai Guang, Zhou Yun had begun pondering which item could resurrect Saint Guilliman.

After deliberation, the most likely candidate was this Time Cloth: restore Saint Guilliman's fragmented remains to their state a ten-thousand-year past, thereby bringing him back to life.

The moment Zhou Yun pulled out the Time Cloth, a Ba Fu roared, slicing off the nearest Fleshripper warrior with his chainsword, then lunged at Zhou Yun.

"Not on my watch!"

Seth roared, swinging his Bloodthirster against Ba Fu's body, blood spraying in all directions.

"Hurry!"

Without needing Seth's urging, Zhou Yun unhesitatingly swung the Time Cloth over Saint Guilliman's shattered remains.

"Rise!!" Zhou Yun uttered each word slowly, his voice nearly a scream: "My beloved!!!"

Saint Guilliman's corpse, shattered by Horus ten thousand years ago, was wrapped in the crimson cloth embroidered with clocks; the clocks on the cloth instantly began ticking, the click of their hands cutting through time without pause.

Instantly, every eye on the battlefield fixed on Zhou Yun. Ba Fu stared in terror. Angron within the warp rift roared. The Blood God himself turned his gaze upon them. The entire tomb chamber seemed drenched in blood.

All could feel it: as the clocks on the cloth ticked, the corpse beneath was slowly awakening.

Boom!! Boom!! Boom!!

The thermic pistol behind Zhou Yun erupted in flame; several Ba Fu warriors frozen in terror had their heads burst open in the fire, their bodies — possessed by the Eightfold Demons — collapsing.

The Time Cloth behind him continued to tick.

Ten thousand years is a long time. The Time Cloth needs time to reverse.

Whether Zhou Yun, Seth, or the Blood God's servants, all understood: this final moment would decide everything.

Within the warp, the Blood God's monstrous brass helmeted eyes widened, filled with madness, killing intent, rage, and fire — he saw:

In the warp near Baal, endless shimmering lights were converging.

Prayers from countless ages echoed without end.

From the tribesmen trudging the crimson wastes of Baal, to the Astartes within the Fortress-Monastery, from the devout on shrine worlds to the soldiers of the Imperial Guard —

Every soul prayed fervently to Saint Guilliman, who had sacrificed himself ten thousand years ago.

They prayed for Saint Guilliman's spirit to protect them, for his wrath to punish humanity's enemies, for his great sacrifice to stand with them.

These prayers coalesced into strands of black and gold feathers, forming a hazy angelic figure standing tall in the torrent of the Empyrean, slowly unfolding its wings.

Behind that angel stood a round, plump, metallic-blue figure resembling a lynx, its power steadily seeping into the angel's body.

The Blood God's fury spilled forth.

Ten thousand years ago, he had desired to bend Saint Guilliman and his Legion to his will.

For ten thousand years, his rage had constantly eroded the Blood Angels.

In ten thousand years, no rage had ever matched that of Saint Guilliman and the Blood Angels.

Yet now, some new entity had dared to rise from the warp and compete with Him?!

The Blood God's battle cry echoed endlessly — his will would be fulfilled.

His Bloodletters instantly roared and bellowed, blood surging; the warp rift spanning the tomb chamber tore wider, nearly crossing half its length.

More Khorne demons, World Eaters Berserkers, and Ba Fu poured forth like a tide of blood, flooding the entire chamber.

Seth let out a low roar; the few remaining Fleshripper guards formed a line before Saint Guilliman's remains.

The thermic pistol behind Zhou Yun continued to unleash fire across the battlefield.

Flames roared through the air; the Fleshripper chainswords relentlessly severed the Berserkers' bodies.

Yet at that moment, a World Eater stepped forth from the crimson warp rift.

He wore power armor interlaced with blood-red and brass, chains hanging from his body bearing skulls, one hand gripping a plasma pistol, the other bare-arm, gripping a larger-than-normal chainsword without armor support.

The World Eater charged like a bloodstorm, arriving before the Fleshripper line in an instant.

"ROOOOAAARRR!!" One Fleshripper warrior's body was torn apart in a flash, blood gushing.

Seeing this, Seth charged toward the World Eater, fury beyond control.

Yet that bare arm — unaided by power armor — was faster than Seth imagined.

Before he could even see it clearly, the roaring chainsword was at his face.

Seth roared, clashing his Bloodthirster against the massive chainsword.

The World Eater sneered; Seth flew backward like a rag, his power armor nearly torn clean from his chest.

"The fury of Saint Guilliman's offspring is nothing." The World Eater chuckled.

He raised his chainsword high, ready to end Seth's life.

At that moment, a torrent of searing thermic flame surged toward him.

The World Eater swung his chainsword sideways, deflecting the thermic blast, then turned his gaze to Zhou Yun, standing guard beside the Time Cloth.

"Karn." Zhou Yun murmured the World Eater's name: "Khorne's Chosen, former Captain of the Eighth Company of the World Eaters — Traitor Karn."

Karn let out a roar filled with fury and battle-lust.

Both knew: the outcome of this war would be decided between them.

The faint golden-glowing blade, Denkou-maru, clashed against the chainsword Bloodson, once wielded by Angron.

The sky burned with wildfire; blood boiled in every Blood Angel's chest.

Countless roars echoed through the warp; Dante faintly sensed the Empyrean churning.

"Is it nearly over?" Dante whispered to himself.

Since the great rift had opened across the heavens, many Blood Angels had been consumed by Black Rage and Bloodlust.

If Korbros's prophecy was correct, the Fortress World Cadia had fallen; the horrific scar now dominating the sky was the result of the Eye of Terror's opening.

This rift wounded not only the Blood Angels but also the Tyranids.

Node-brains were burning out in droves; countless Tyranid organisms had become feral beasts, even the capillary towers snapping.

Logically, the Hive Fleet had no chance — they could not breach the Void Shield.

The Hive Fleet seemed to accept this fate; countless Tyranids halted on the battlefield, ceasing their hopeless assaults on the Void Shield.

Yet Dante could feel it — the Hive Fleet was waiting.

They would launch their final assault.

A fragmented message arrived from the Astropathic station on Baal II: the Hive Fleet was digesting its bio-ships, clearly crafting some powerful Tyranid unit.

The Hive Mind was willing to sacrifice its spacefaring forces to seize the Fortress-Monastery.

Conversely, if the Blood Angels could endure this final assault, the Hive Fleet would exhaust its biomass, trapped within Baal's void.

Dante took a slow breath — suddenly, he heard the sound of atmosphere scoured by fire; he knew Tyranid units were descending from the heavens.

The Fortress-Monastery's anti-air defenses converged, firing searing defensive lasers toward the source of the fire-scouring sound.

Yet the spore-pods in the sky flickered constantly — sometimes one, sometimes three, sometimes hundreds.

Each pulsed with searing psychic light; Dante could not discern which was real.

Only when the spore-pods thudded to the ground did Dante see that only three had actually landed before the Fortress-Monastery's desert.

But those three spore-pods stood over ten meters tall; their fleshy sheaths shattered, revealing the three Tyranid titans within.

The three titans stood nearly as tall as Knights, their bodies sheathed in deep-purple carapace, shimmering like amethysts beneath the hazy crimson sky.

On the heads of two titans, carapace converged into horned crowns; beneath each crown pulsed blue-glowing psychic tissue.

The two titans slowly opened four arms: the upper two ended in razor-sharp scythes, the lower two in vicious rending claws.

The third titan's carapace formed a two-horned crown; its rending claws were replaced by venomous stingers glowing with thick green light, and spikes erupted from its chest.

Dante held his breath, staring at the three titans. In Zhou Yun's book, *The Red-Skinned One-Eyed Ogre Should Know: Tyranid Biology*, the two titans with potent psychic power were called Norn Envoys, the one glowing with venom, the Norn Assimilator.

They were the Hive Fleet's highest-tier units, the pinnacle of biological design.

The Norn Envoys stood at the apex of the Hive Fleet's power in both the material universe and the Empyrean.

The Norn Assimilator was even purer — its lethal venom was the bane of every defense and position.

Whether Norn Envoys or Norn Assimilators, these were units the Hive Fleet produced only in its most desperate moments.

The three titans roared, charging toward the Fortress-Monastery at speeds far exceeding their massive bodies should allow.

(End of Chapter)