Chapter 340: Magnus: Mortarion Is an Amateur!

Hera Fortress, the summit of Macragge, the end of the mountains, the highest point on this planet from the sky,

Saint Guilliman's wings fluttered gently in the warm mountain breeze, pure white streaked with flecks of metallic blue, as if a blank canvas had been stained with color,

He lifted his head, his eyes beneath golden hair fixed on the flickering engines of void ships in the heavens,

Day and night on Macragge had become indistinguishable; fleets from all over Ultramar had gathered beyond the planet's sky, awaiting departure for humanity's homeworld, Terra,

Their engine glows were so intense they resembled hundreds of thousands of stars radiating light, even altering Macragge's climate and raising its temperature,

If this continued, Macragge's entire ecosystem might suffer irreversible damage.

At that moment, in Saint Guilliman's eyes, another blazing sun extinguished in the sky,

He knew it was Zhou Yun stuffing a void ship into a fourth-dimensional pocket,

This was likely the safest and fastest sub-space travel method humanity had ever developed,

The fleet entered Zhou Yun's infinitely capacious fourth-dimensional pocket; Zhou Yun passed through a gateway into the Webway, transited multiple times within it, and headed for Terra,

In this process, the fleet faced only one possible danger,

That Zhou Yun couldn't hold it in and sold them all out,

Of course, there was another possibility: Zhou Yun's physical body was destroyed,

But if that happened, the fleet would be the least of the problems,

Once his physical body was destroyed, Zhou Yun would become a pure sub-space entity—whether he could retain human consciousness at all would be unknown,

Saint Guilliman had established the Saint Doraemon Cult to serve as a safeguard should Zhou Yun's physical body be destroyed, hoping the cult's faith and emotions could bind Zhou Yun and preserve his basic self-awareness,

But Zhou Yun's essence was too vast, and the Saint Doraemon Cult's followers were far too few; it likely wouldn't last long,

If that day came, Saint Guilliman could only attempt to contain Zhou Yun's essence and consciousness within his own body, making his body Zhou Yun's new physical vessel to preserve his humanity.

"Maybe we should hire people to tour and tell Zhou Yun's hellish jokes—might have some effect."

Strong emotion, cognition, and willpower can influence the sub-space; Zhou Yun's hellish jokes, shocking to Imperial citizens, do have some effect,

But matters within the sub-space must be handled with extreme caution,

For instance, Mortarion's numerology seems to be finally taking effect.

Thinking of this, Saint Guilliman felt a headache coming on,

Guilliman might think he's always fighting on battlefields and shouldn't burden himself with politics,

But Saint Guilliman has always kept part of his attention on the ripples within the sub-space,

One, to protect Ultramar's fleets and ensure they don't get lost in the sub-space,

Two, to guard against the Chaos Gods, the Emperor, and Zhou Yun's still-muddled essence,

During this time, Saint Guilliman cautiously explored Zhou Yun's sub-space essence and learned it was born in the future,

Time has no meaning in the sub-space—just as Saint Guilliman's essence was born at the moment of his own death,

Zhou Yun's essence was born even farther into the future.

"But what exactly did he do to cultivate such a vast essence?"

Saint Guilliman rubbed his temples, muttering softly.

As an equivalent of Zhou Yun's demon prince, he could explore Zhou Yun's existence without triggering his sub-space essence's defensive instincts,

Saint Guilliman even saw within Zhou Yun's essence Zhou Yun killing Guilliman, and killing Horus and himself aboard the Vengeful Spirit,

Saint Guilliman remained emotionally calm—beyond curiosity about why these things would happen, he had no other thoughts,

After all, none of them were strangers to death; if such actions benefited humanity or the entire galaxy, he wouldn't mind dying again—he believed Guilliman would gladly do the same, and if Horus still had his wits, he would too.

But after that, what Saint Guilliman saw became fragmented,

He vaguely glimpsed the birth of the Dark King, and perhaps even the furious roars of the Four Gods,

In the sub-space, there are no eternal allies—whether Slaanesh or Nurgle, they would almost certainly become Zhou Yun's enemies in the end.

"But where exactly is the twenty-second century? Why is there no trace of the twenty-second century in your sub-space essence?"

Saint Guilliman frowned, murmuring softly.

Several blazing suns above extinguished again; Saint Guilliman shook his head slightly, pushing aside these chaotic thoughts,

More pressing than Zhou Yun were Terra, the Emperor, and his own restless brother.

"Diggory."

"Mephiston."

"You two assist me."

Saint Guilliman said to the two Librarians beside him,

They came from the Blood Angels and the Ultramarines—nine and thirteen, together clearly making twenty-two,

Around Saint Guilliman and the two Librarians stood a formation of twenty-two Librarians from the two Legions,

Saint Guilliman slightly raised his pocket watch, watching the hands silently point to 22: 2: 2 Terra time.

Though inexplicable, Saint Guilliman clearly felt his psychic potential surge, his connection to the Astronomicon deepen, and the success rate of his actions subtly increase,

A faint twitch crossed his lips,

This must be the power of numerology!

Zhou Yun tricked Nurgle into believing Mortarion's numerology, causing the demons in Nurgle's gardens to believe in it too,

In the sub-space, will is everything; when a quarter of Chaos believed this pure feudal superstition, numerology naturally began to take effect,

And as more and more beings realized numerology truly worked and began to believe in its power, its effect strengthened further, creating a self-reinforcing cycle—numerology might truly achieve Mortarion's imagined results.

Zhou Yun's few words affected the sub-space more than Saint Guilliman had in ten thousand years.

Saint Guilliman breathed twenty-two times slowly, then his eyes shimmered with hazy points of light; visions of the future reflected in his pupils,

Simultaneously, the two Librarians beside him and the twenty-two Librarians began chanting ancient Baal incantations; flames of heat ignited upon Saint Guilliman's body,

He would predict Magnus's actions, using his immense psychic power and foresight inherited from the Emperor,

But Magnus himself was also among the galaxy's greatest seers and psykers,

He would inevitably foresee Saint Guilliman's actions; their mutual foresight would inevitably escalate into a confrontation at the Astronomicon level.

"You glued knowledge into wings with wax and proudly flew into the sky, boasting to your brothers: 'Look! How wise I am!'"

"But you flew too fast to hear your father's warning, and too high—until the sun melted your wings in an instant."

Golden flames blazed fiercely upon Saint Guilliman; in an instant, he seemed to become a pure sub-space entity forged from psychic energy:

"Scarlet King, let me see if you're still as clumsy as you were ten thousand years ago."

A sharp pyramid stood amid the Astronomicon's torrent; this flagship of the Thousand Sons Primarch Magnus was modeled after the magnificent pyramid of Tizca, the capital of Prospero ten thousand years ago,

To build this pyramid-shaped void ship, Magnus consumed at least one entire demon world; minerals saturated with Astronomicon corruption were forged into silver and gold, forming a pyramid that was a twisted, false reflection of Magnus's former residence on Prospero, the Pyramid of Glory,

Ahriman walked across the ground of this twisted pyramid, woven from silver and gold, passing through semi-transparent scarabs that occasionally glided across the surface, approaching the imperial chamber and library at the pyramid's peak,

Books inscribed with arcane script floated and spiraled through the air, passing through layers of Prosperan silk, landing beside the crimson giant at the room's center,

Glowing, shifting runes spun around him; knowledge from the opened books burned fiercely, pouring into Magnus's hands within The Book of Magnus.

Gagagaga————

The Book of Magnus, a compendium compiled by Magnus himself during the Great Crusade, gathering knowledge from countless planets across the galaxy,

Ahriman often suspected the knowledge within The Book of Magnus had surpassed Magnus himself,

He remembered that even in the late Great Crusade, Magnus had repeatedly discovered passages in The Book of Magnus that he did not recall writing—almost as if he had forgotten the knowledge recorded within, or as if the knowledge within was silently multiplying.

!

Gagagagaga————

Or perhaps Ahriman recalled that the Word Bearers' Primarch Lorgar had once said Magnus's physical form was merely a byproduct of his psychic energy, not his true essence,

The Book of Magnus recorded all knowledge Magnus knew or had forgotten, all his thoughts, consciousness, emotions, and perceptions of both material and sub-space realms. If other knowledge within the book had become alive, even birthing a miniature world within it, what of the knowledge concerning Magnus himself? Could that knowledge have become alive too?

Ahriman pondered whether the Magnus before him or the Magnus described in The Book of Magnus was closer to his true essence.

No, perhaps neither—Magnus's true essence might long ago have been devoured by the Changer of Ways.

Gagagagagaga————————

Ahriman frowned; he faintly heard strange bird calls mixed within his own thoughts.

"Have you completed the ritual I taught you, Ahriman?" The Scarlet King's voice interrupted Ahriman's thoughts; semi-transparent scarabs flew from his lips.

"You know full well," Ahriman rasped.

He had followed Magnus's orders to plan the grand ritual—a trap to capture the God of Death and ambush two Primarchs,

Magnus had no need to ask whether the ritual was complete; the Scarlet King was among the greatest seers beneath the gods, his single eye always fixed upon the stream of fate,

He observed all, learned all, absorbed all.

But Magnus's gift for prophecy remained merely one of the greatest,

Ahriman knew that when the Emperor forged Magnus, he passed on his own exceptional psychic talent to him, yet his prophetic gift was inherited more fully by Magnus's other two brothers,

The Bat and the Dove, Despair and Hope, the King of Night and the Archangel.

"Can our actions truly evade Saint Guilliman's gaze?"

Ahriman spoke bluntly:

"That Archangel was the one who truly inherited the Emperor's prophetic gift."

"Ahriman, when you say 'gift,' do you mean letting yourself get killed, smashed into meat by Horus's claws, and giving Dorn the extra trouble of collecting your remains?" Magnus's voice turned sharp.

"He cannot see. He cannot possibly see—Chaos's sorcery shields our fate; even the prophetic gift he inherited from our father cannot pierce the veil woven by the Changer of Ways."

Magnus paced atop the pyramid, holding The Book of Magnus; his words turned into semi-transparent scarabs that scattered through the air:

"He only crudely uses his innate talent, never truly understanding the secrets of the Astronomicon, never learning from knowledge how to wield sorcery, spells, or rituals."

"He was born with wings, yet doesn't know how to truly use them. Among my brothers, only I learned to use my gifts—with knowledge, not instinct, nor Mortarion's stupid feudal superstition."

With that, Magnus let out a soft laugh,

Alikman also laughed a few times,

if there was anything that could still bring father and son to true agreement, it was mocking Motalian,

Motalian had once been a foolish and ignorant instigator whose prejudice and misunderstanding of psychic energy led to the ban of the Librarium, indirectly causing the Burning of Prospero,

but how laughable Motalian has become now—he is as absurd as a prostitute crying out for purity, a whore proclaiming love, a drunkard shouting for sobriety, a materialist preaching numerology.

"Motalian is an amateur," Alikman said with a smile.

Magnus nodded in agreement: "Numerology is pure feudal superstition."

The two burst into loud laughter, then

a clear voice rang out from the torrent of the Highest Heaven.

Magnus and Alikman's laughter ceased instantly.

Brilliant flames, gold threaded with blue, blazed fiercely in the Highest Heaven, forming a pair of blazing angelic wings.

(End of Chapter)