Chapter 324: Mong and Malkit Arrived One After Another

Mong and Malkit flapped their wings and flew unimpeded to the Hera Fortress atop the Seven Peaks.

The two shifted their crow eyes, vigilantly observing the Limitless Warriors patrolling the walls.

This was the first time either had seen an Astartes, the Death Angels of the Emperor of Mankind.

For Mong and Malkit, former nest-dwelling mutants, even the Imperial Guard were legends, beings far above them—let alone the Astartes.

"I can't fathom what kind of status Zhou Yun has to be living inside a Limitless Warrior fortress."

Mong scratched his scalp with his bird-clawed foot.

"And the Father of Plagues himself tasked us to 'invite' him to the Garden."

Mong sensed Zhou Yun's status might be higher than he'd ever imagined—enough that even the Father of Plagues would invite him.

"He said something about being a chosen of the angels—could it be true?"

"The girl with him carries the power of the Cursed," Malkit mused. "Perhaps she is the Emperor's Chosen?"

When the Father of Plagues assigned them this task, he spoke vaguely of Zhou Yun's identity.

He mentioned things like Greed's Dissolution, Malicious Arts, a rival of Little Vash'tor, a candidate for the Fifth—Mong and Malkit understood none of it.

They asked their familiar Nurglings, but most were just mindlessly giggling and offered no useful information.

And Mong and Malkit knew only the Nurglings within the Garden of Nurgle.

"Stay alert. Focus. They're all Limitless Warriors—though inferior to the Blood Angels, they're still Death Angels of the Cursed."

Malkit spoke in a low tone.

They were Asfordians; Asford lay near Baal, where the Blood Angels were deified and worshipped.

In truth, their knowledge of Astartes came entirely from street legends.

"They say Limitless Warriors' brains are so large they've grown into their chests, making them the smartest of all Astartes."

"But they're also the most ambitious—each Limitless Warrior is a king of a planet, ruling countless mortals directly."

"They say their Chapter Master, Karla, has fists the size of two armored vehicles, capable of lifting a nest-tower with one hand."

"But Limitless Warriors are slow runners—that's why they never reached Terra ten thousand years ago."

"They say Limitless Warriors are experts at tunneling; their world of Kaos is riddled with tunnels."

"But they hate hearing the word 'Kaos'—perhaps they don't want others to know about their tunnels."

Mong and Malkit whispered their knowledge of the Limitless Warriors from over ten meters away.

Meanwhile, they kept watch on the patrolling Limitless Warriors atop the Hera Fortress walls.

Leading the patrol was a Limitless Warrior clad in heavy power fists and covered in cybernetic implants; beside him stood an Astartes in Terminator armor wielding a power sword.

Mong and Malkit guessed the Limitless Warrior had been grievously wounded, left disabled, and assigned to patrol duty.

Yet such a respected warrior might possess extraordinary experience—they'd need an opening to slip past his gaze.

At that moment, the power-fisted Limitless Warrior turned to whisper to the Terminator beside him.

"Now!" Mong and Malkit seized the instant, darting through the sky and flying straight into the Hera Fortress.

"Two street dogs," said Sergeant Agman, First Company of the Limitless Warriors, watching the two crows clearly in his superhuman vision.

These two rustic Nurgling Garden fools had crawled out from some gutter and thought ten meters away was far enough to escape an Astartes' hearing?

Did they believe the Emperor's gift of superhuman hearing and the auto-sensors on their power armor were decorations?

And what nonsense they spoke:

Limitless Warriors' brains grow in their chests? Limitless Warriors are ambitious? Limitless Warriors are slow? Limitless Warriors are weaker than Blood Angels?

And Kaos! Those damned stupid birds dared mock Kaos!

"My lord!" Agman gritted his teeth, glancing at Chapter Master Karla. "Shouldn't we stop them?"

"They're mutants from Asford—apparently old acquaintances of Lord Zhou Yun."

Chapter Master Karla stared at his power fist, lost in thought.

"Don't worry—they're already under the watch of Lord Mephiston and Digris."

Hearing this, Agman grew even angrier.

"Does the Plague God look down on us?" Agman whispered to Karla. "Last time, the Lord of Hunger sent the Daemon Primarch Fuegrym—now the Plague God sends two idiot crows?"

"Just different strategy."

Karla shook his head, staring at his fist, murmuring softly:

"The rumors are absurd. Lift a nest-tower? I've only lifted a Necron anti-air tower."

Mong and Malkit flew cautiously through the air, keeping their minds sharp, evading every sentry's gaze as they searched the Hera Fortress for Zhou Yun.

Finally, they spotted a zone where patrolling Astartes carried the same toy sword Zhou Yun had once used—clearly connected to him.

They flew straight toward that area, searching for Zhou Yun's location.

"Where is Zhou Yun? We can't just land and ask?" Mong quivered his feathers, landing on an empty marble dais.

"We're already pushing our luck to evade all the Astartes' eyes—still, it's odd. Other daises are guarded, but why are so many here unattended?" Malkit said, puzzled and wary.

A silent Astartes of the Blindsight Chapter, wearing a Blindspot Star, stood nearby.

Had Lord Mephiston not used psychic means to order them to ignore the pair, they'd have already blown the damned birds to dust with a bolter round.

He silently activated his comm, transmitting the crows' conversation to the Chapter channel.

Instantly, the channel filled with stifled laughter.

Then Lord Mephiston's grim voice echoed: "Overestimated them. I meant to let them walk into the trap—I'll go fetch them now. You all carry on."

"Huh?" Malkit snapped his head upward.

He saw a pale Astartes in crimson-carved power armor approaching.

The Astartes' armor was horrifying—like exposed crimson muscle after skin had been peeled away—and beside him walked a girl from Asford, her face scarred.

"Leina of the Ark Guild?!"

As an Asfordian, Malkit knew Leina—the top gang leader of the lower nests.

"No good—we've been spotted. Run!"

Malkit growled, flapping his wings upward; Mong scrambled after him.

"Come down!!!"

The crimson-armored Astartes spoke suddenly, his icy voice lashing out at Malkit.

Malkit instantly recognized it—the Whispering Voice. He'd heard it from Asford's gene-thieves, psychic sorcerers.

But the sensation was utterly different.

He felt his entire crow body seized and dominated by that cold, immense psychic force, overwritten by the Astartes' will.

Then, like a puppet, Malkit flapped his wings and descended, landing in the pale Astartes' psychic hand.

"Leina, there's still one target left. Try releasing the Whispering Voice as I taught you."

"After all, it's a psychic ability you already possessed. Theoretically, if you control the psychic intensity surrounding your consciousness, you can release it perfectly." The pale Astartes psychic spoke to Leina beside him.

Leina nodded slightly, drew a deep breath, and fixed her gaze on Mong, struggling to flee in midair—

"COME DOWN!!!!"

BOOM!!!!

Malkit watched in horror as Mong's body exploded in midair like a crimson firework, splattering blood across a five-to-six-meter radius, pieces raining down one after another.

The pale psychic stood bathed in Mong's blood-rain, speaking calmly:

"At least he came down. And you've improved—last time, that rabbit exploded over ten meters away."

The Father of Plagues soothed Mong's tormented soul, returning him to the Nurglings who worried over him.

Too brutal. That psychic girl had torn Mong's body apart like that.

Nurgle felt deep regret—he'd burdened the child too heavily, leading him to this fate.

He remembered how frantically the Nurglings had rushed to him, begging him to save Mong and Malkit's souls.

Though their souls were worthless, though they failed again and again, Nurgle learned through the Nurglings' words that they were two children who had fought desperately to save their world.

Nurgle chose to save their souls—but whether they could endure even the tiniest of his gifts depended entirely on their own will.

Thankfully, they endured, becoming residents of the Garden of Nurgle. Nurgle then left them alone.

It was only at Isha's suggestion that he assigned them the task of inviting Zhou Yun.

Now it seemed, this task was too heavy for them.

Nurgle, filled with remorse, resolved to offer them some compensation.

Of course, rewards too—since Mong had failed, but Malkit—

Malkit hunched his body on the table, staring at Zhou Yun before him.

"I never imagined meeting you would be so difficult," Malkit whispered.

"I never imagined I'd see you two again. Mong didn't make it."

Zhou Yun's lips twitched slightly:

"Could it be that it's not hard to meet me—but that you two are just hopelessly out of your element?"

(End of Chapter)