Chapter 339: Carlos: Hey! It

The air was dead silent; Ahriman slightly turned his head to look at Magnus.

It was Russ who shattered Magnus's spine on Prospero, destroyed his flesh and blood, and shattered his soul.

Magnus said nothing, only continued staring with his single eye at the vision reflected in the divination.

"I have a task to entrust to you," the hazy figure said to the wolf pack, laughing and immersed in alcohol.

"Has Guilliman failed to take something?!"

The Space Wolves laughed aloud and looked up at the hazy figure.

"Another cup of mead, and the Wolf's fangs will be shown to you!"

These wolves, come to observe the ceremony, were clearly bored on Macragge, and at the hazy figure's invitation, they were already beginning to bare their fangs.

"This task may not require combat, or even your power armor," the hazy figure said.

Hearing this, the Wolves lost interest at once, slumping back beside the bonfire and yawning.

"Boring."

"Leave non-fighting tasks to the Ultramarines."

"Doraemon-brother, what do you think we've done with Russ's sons' fangs?"

The Space Wolves chattered among themselves, clearly uninterested.

"I want you to urinate on the ashes spat out by the Thousand Sons' Red Book warriors," the hazy figure chuckled.

"We'll do it!"

The Space Wolves, recently attacked by Magnus on Fenris, accepted without hesitation.

Ahriman clenched his teeth, gripped his staff tightly, and trembled uncontrollably.

He watched in the divination as the Space Wolves of Fenris pulled down their pants and urinated on the shattered dust of the Thousand Sons' Red Book warriors.

"Hahahaha! Doraemon-brother said Magnus and Ahriman are both great at divination—they might be watching us right now!"

"True, true. I heard Grandpa Bjorn say Magnus's divination is powerful."

The wolves urinated on the Red Sons' dust, chatting among themselves.

"Magnus, did you see that? Magnus!"

"And Ahriman, your brother's absorbency is excellent!"

"Magnus, how's your spine? Our tech isn't as good as Russ's, but we can still give you a back rub!"

Ahriman gasped heavily; he felt his lungs filled with blades—each breath brought unbearable pain to both body and soul.

He couldn't help but look again at Magnus.

Magnus's face twisted with anger—brief, but unmistakable.

But Ahriman didn't know: was Magnus angry because his sons had been humiliated, or because the wolves had humiliated him?

Ahriman hoped it was the former—and he was willing to believe it was.

"Must we watch this humiliation?"

Ahriman hissed through clenched teeth.

"And what exactly do you want?"

"Guilliman, Sanguinius, and that being are heading to Terra."

Magnus spoke flatly, not even turning to look at Ahriman.

"I will foretell their movements, intercept them on the way to Terra, and let them fall into the fate woven by the Lord of Change."

"Are you mad?!"

Ahriman blurted out in horror.

"They have Sanguinius!"

"And that unknown Warp being—the Death God!"

Magnus's expression twitched; he turned his single eye to stare at Ahriman.

"I will face Sanguinius," Magnus growled. "And that being is now bound in a mortal shell—you will face him."

"What about Roboute Guilliman?" Ahriman gripped his staff.

"We have other allies."

Magnus chuckled coldly.

"All is within the Lord of Change's plan."

"Carlos and his nine Lords of Change will lure Abaddon and Ka'Bandha into serving us."

"Chaos is the most irresistible of the gods; I am the strongest of the Daemon Primarchs; you are the strongest of the Chosen; Carlos is the strongest of the Great Daemons; together, we can oppose Sanguinius, Guilliman, and that being combined."

"The fate decreed by the Lord of Change cannot be stopped."

"Ah! Aaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!"

Inside the Revenant, a shrill bird cry echoed through the ship's cabin.

Within the isolation field woven by Carlos's sorcery, two Lords of Change stretched their necks, letting out meaningless, bestial roars.

As they roared, thick, colorful fluids—mixed with solid matter—streamed from between their legs, pooling on the ground.

And they kept defecating, kept expelling.

Abaddon, his face scarred by a gruesome wound, blood seeping steadily from his chest, looked weak yet furious as he stared at this.

Wounded by Sanguinius, he paid a terrible price to summon Carlos, the Chief Great Daemon of Chaos, and nine Lords of Change, to fight the two resurrected Primarchs of the Imperium and heal himself.

Carlos, the Weaver of Fates, was the most unique of all Chaos's Lords of Change.

He had walked alive out of the Eternal Well, a place even Chaos had never entered, and thus grew two heads, able to see both past and future.

Carlos promised Abaddon he would heal all his wounds with a clever spell.

But during the ritual, two of the nine Lords of Change suddenly fell ill, uncontrollably excreting thick, rainbow-colored matter—and as they did, their expressions grew vacant, as if their intelligence was draining with every expulsion.

Carlos's ritual failed; the ceremony with only seven Lords of Change did not heal Abaddon—it made him weaker.

"What are they shitting?!" Abaddon pointed at the growing pile of rainbow matter. "What is this?"

"It is history."

"It is knowledge."

Carlos's two heads gave entirely different answers.

This was one of Carlos's traits: for any question, his two heads gave one true and one false answer.

Abaddon stared at Carlos in dead silence.

He looked at the rainbow, a steaming, nauseating mass laden with feces, then at the two Lords of Change who had turned into idiots from defecating.

"Knowledge?"

"Knowledge! Eat it and gain the wisdom of the Lords of Change!"

"History! Eat it and taste history!"

Carlos gave two entirely different answers again.

"Go ahead and taste it!" both heads urged Abaddon at once.

Abaddon hesitated.

In the shadows beside him, Ka'Bandha, wearing a hood woven from the demonic flesh fused into his body, watched this scene.

His bare arm instinctively rose to cover his face.

The demon bonded with him, and his thirst for vengeance, had helped Ka'Bandha suppress the rage of the Butcher's Nails, allowing him to barely return to the man he was during the Great Crusade.

But seeing this, he wished he could drown in rage instead.

Ka'Bandha's gaze at Abaddon was full of doubt.

This? This is what you plan to use to intercept Guilliman, Sanguinius, and Doraemon?

"This? This? Rather than trust Abaddon and Chaos's stupid birds, we'd be better off bowing to Doraemon—the one who can find Erebus!"

The demon fused with Ka'Bandha poked its face out from inside the hood, sneering.

Ka'Bandha fell silent.

Without the Butcher's Nails' rage clouding him, Ka'Bandha realized—the demon's words might not be such a bad path.

On Terra, in the Church Palace, outside a secret chapel beside the Cathedral of the Emperor's Ascension,

Sister Agnese of the Holy Rose Order knelt devoutly outside the chapel's back door, whispering prayers to the presence within.

Since the destruction of the Acheron System, in the 222 days since returning to Terra, Agnese had prayed like this every day.

She remembered the holy vision she saw on the planet Asford in the Acheron System, and the sense of divine protection she felt while crossing the Warp en route to Terra.

Even the opening of the Great Rift could not stop the Battle Sisters of the Holy Rose Order from reaching Terra—some holy will protected them.

As they protected that holy maiden.

Agnese whispered the name in her heart.

She had researched its meaning in the Battle Sisters' archives—it once belonged to a legendary holy maiden of ancient Terra.

As Agnese prayed, the chapel's back door opened gently.

Sister Magda Grace, with pale silver hair, stepped out.

Agnese noticed Sister Magda's face was streaked with tears, her eyes brimming with uncontainable joy.

"The Holy Maiden has awakened!"

"She has revealed the Emperor's revelation!"

"The Archangel Sanguinius and Roboute Guilliman, Lord of Ultramar, have returned from death."

"They will accompany the true hope—the hope we missed in Acheron—to Terra."

"Praise the Emperor, Sister Agnese, for hope is coming!"

In the outer space of Macragge, Zhou Yun floated in the void, using adaptive lights, gazing at the vast fleet before him, unable to resist shaking the fourth-dimensional pouch on his belly.

The first fleet had already entered the fourth-dimensional pouch on his belly.

"I'm afraid I'll give in and sell all these ships."

"When we reach Terra, the Emperor must compensate me for my restraint!"

"This really tests a cadre's will!"

(End of this volume)

(End of this chapter)