Chapter 341: Thanks to This Numerology!

"Saint Guilliman?!" Magnus's voice stretched in disbelief as he stared at the archangel hovering in the Highest Heaven.

Feathers blazing like fire trembled in the Sea of Souls; Saint Guilliman's form shone like a brilliant halo of starlight, illuminating Magnus's flagship, the Revenge of Tizca.

The great pyramid, echoing the lingering shadow of Prospero, seemed like a filthy dewdrop dissolving beneath the sun's radiance.

Demons and other profane entities hidden within the pyramid screamed in anguish; the semi-transparent holy beetles emerging from Magnus's mouth dissolved and vanished.

Magnus let out a furious growl; the flood of the Highest Heaven erupted outward from the Crimson King.

The crimson Magnus nearly became a giant forged of flame, lightning, and crystal, standing atop the pyramid's peak, his body entwined with colorful, arcane runes.

"How did you find me? How did you pierce the labyrinth of illusions woven by the Lord of Change?"

The glorious form Magnus had become and Saint Guilliman's projection gazed at each other across the flood of the Highest Heaven.

Majestic power from the Sea of Souls burned within his armor of gold and silver, within his flaming red hair; his single eye spat ever-shifting psychic lightning.

The Highest Heaven permitted these two colossal beings to unleash their full power, allowing them to reveal their essences.

Magnus and Saint Guilliman, their forms resembled those described in legends from the most remote planets.

Ahriman had once witnessed a similar clash—the night Prospero burned, between Magnus and Leman Russ.

"Thanks to this numerology!"

A clear laugh echoed through the Highest Heaven; Saint Guilliman's voice carried no mockery or scorn, as calm as if stating a simple fact.

But Magnus roared, and Ahriman gritted his teeth—both felt humiliated.

"How dare you insult me, Saint Guilliman!"

"After ten thousand years, has your tongue grown so sharp? Just as repulsive as that wild wolf!"

Magnus roared, bellowed; the Veil Sea trembled, countless warp streams fell like meteors toward Saint Guilliman.

But the prayers of humanity over ten thousand years rose upon Saint Guilliman, forming a barrier that blocked Magnus's assault.

Saint Guilliman chuckled lightly; light in the void surged and sparkled.

He had indeed used the power of numerology—but not solely relied upon it.

The Staff of Seeking flashed through his hand.

This artifact from Zhou Yun was so wondrous: it could track any being's trail in the material universe, and in the metaphysical realm of the Warp, it worked just as well.

Saint Guilliman had used this artifact to locate Magnus, projecting his will here.

"Let me see what you intend to do!"

Saint Guilliman whispered softly, his eyes like golden pools rippling, gazing at the threads of Magnus's fate within the flood of destiny.

He sought to predict all of Magnus's future actions, carving a path toward Terra for his side.

"Never!" Magnus's growl cracked like ninety-nine thunderclaps; his single eye began to gleam with the light of fate.

They clashed on the plane of prophecy and destiny, foretelling each other's paths while disrupting them, churning the spiraling timelines.

The Highest Heaven shifted with their wills; past and future mirrored in the void.

Hot sands from Bal rose from nowhere; within the Warp, the scene of Saint Guilliman's birth on Bal appeared.

Magnus extended his crimson claws, stabbing through time toward the young Saint Guilliman's throat.

But the hot sand vanished instantly; then came a downpour, the pyramid of Prospero flickered in and out, flames raging across the entire planet.

Ahriman recognized it: the Burning of Prospero ten thousand years ago.

Saint Guilliman suddenly lashed out his leg, attempting to trip Magnus as he fought Leman Russ.

Magnus raised his staff; time in the Highest Heaven shifted abruptly.

In an instant, they stood again on the plains of Luminar; Magnus's staff and Saint Guilliman's spear collided for a single moment.

Time, destiny, will, the Warp—they clashed across every plane in a brief, violent exchange.

Everything trembled; Ahriman could only strive to absorb the residual shockwaves.

To join? Ahriman dared not imagine it. Without proper preparation, such a battle was beyond his reach—even though he knew these two were not truly fighting, merely peering into each other's past and future.

Yet even this was enough to shake the Warp.

Saint Guilliman's gaze once again reflected the river where past, future, and present intertwined.

Magnus's single eye likewise shimmered with the river of fate; he sought to pursue, but only let out a furious, humiliated growl.

In Saint Guilliman's eyes, the scene of the Revenge of Tizca appeared; his will slipped into the fate where he met death aboard that ship—and Magnus dared not follow, could not bear to gaze upon that past, forced to tear his eyes away.

Magnus's prophecy lagged behind, no longer able to disrupt Saint Guilliman's.

Saint Guilliman seized this fleeting moment and swiftly began to prophesy Magnus's future actions.

Twisting stars, shattered Webway, the Book of Magnus.

Saint Guilliman's gaze lingered slightly on the Book of Magnus; his expression turned to astonishment:

"So the Book of Magnus is your——————"

Before Saint Guilliman could continue probing, he heard a series of clucking bird calls.

A blue, ever-shifting, infinitely variable form suddenly pressed upon Magnus's fate.

All of Saint Guilliman's visions blurred, obscured by nine hundred ninety-nine thousand riddles, reflections, and transformations.

!

The Lord of Change has intervened!

The Lord of Change used the Book of Magnus as an anchor, veiling all of Magnus's future and possibilities.

He even stretched tendrils of twisted fate toward Saint Guilliman's very being.

Saint Guilliman remained calm, his fingers twitching slightly.

A crimson cloak flashed through his hand; the Lord of Change's tendrils veered uncontrollably.

Saint Guilliman seized this instant to withdraw his mind.

He slowly opened his eyes, returning to the peak of Macragge within the Hera Fortress.

"Cough—cough—cough——————"

Saint Guilliman let out a harsh, ragged groan, clutching the fissure in his chest.

The brief clash with Magnus and the Lord of Change rekindled the pain from the wound Horus had inflicted with the power of the Four Gods.

That wound transcended time and space, etched directly into Saint Guilliman's very existence—impossible to remove.

"My lord!" "Father!" Diggis and Mephyston rushed forward anxiously.

Saint Guilliman waved his hand, signaling he was unharmed.

"Find Zhou Yun and Guilliman."

"I've discovered something—something about Magnus."

(End of Chapter)