Chapter 355: The High Heaven No Longer Exists!

"What a waste of a person! Is this how you use your psychic energy?"

"You're desecrating the High Heaven's blessing—can't you learn properly?"

Carlos's two beaks hurled curses at Leina, their wills clashing on the psychic plane,

Leina's psychic power was insufficient to crush Carlos's will, yet Carlos found that no matter how much blasphemous knowledge he forced upon her, it vanished like a stone dropped into the ocean,

Carlos was stunned,

Humans—or any sentient beings, theoretically—possess the capacity or instinct to learn, an inevitable result of biological evolution,

Anyone confronted with knowledge flooding into their mind could never fully ignore it; even a single glance would trigger an instinctive urge to comprehend and absorb it, and once begun, they would sink into the endless vortex of knowledge woven by Chaos's power, drowning in insatiable thirst for learning,

But Leina seemed to lack the instinct to learn entirely, like a black hole for knowledge, even lacking any real desire to learn,

Carlos had heard fragments of information about her from other Chaos daemons who had tried to corrupt her, but he never imagined it was this extreme.

He couldn't help but let his consciousness seep into Leina's mind, probing the scattered memories at its periphery,

"Why is three-three thirteen?! Three-three is nine! Three-three is nine!"

"Why is twenty-seven divided by three also thirteen?! It's nine! Three times nine is twenty-seven!"

"Why did you get thirteen again on this test?! Leina, you, you child…"

Carlos stared in disbelief at Leina's memories of learning mathematics under the Chaos follower Nama Kar from Asford; the numbers carried the corruption of the Lord of Change, and normal children would be subtly corrupted within one or two months of study,

but Leina learned so slowly that the corruption accumulated at a glacial pace, and Leina's family

"It doesn't matter, child. As long as you devoutly believe in the Emperor and possess the will to serve Him and humanity, your academic performance is irrelevant."

"After all, the Emperor has His design for every person, regardless of wealth, beauty, status, intelligence, or foolishness."

Leina's mother spoke gently, then took Leina to church to pray.

Each time the mathematical corruption had barely taken root, Leina would go to the church of the Emperor and Saint Guilliman, and the faint corruption would be cleansed during prayer,

This cycle repeated for years, and Leina's neural pathways, repeatedly stimulated by corruption and purification, evolved and mutated to develop resistance to corruption and knowledge—especially resistance to Chaos corruption,

Knowledge and corruption simply slid off her mind like oil on water.

"You're mentally disabled!"

"You're an idiot!"

Carlos's two heads spat in unison at this hopeless brain.

All Chaos daemons possess an instinct, shaped by the domain the Lord of Change occupies,

the Hellstorm of the Northeastern Eight-Pointed Chaos, a domain symbolizing the primordial chaos of the Warp, manifesting as the raw elemental power of the High Heaven; for Chaos daemons, there is no higher purpose than to spread and unleash this power,

yet Carlos now encountered the Wall of Sighs, an impenetrable barrier to spreading the power of Chaos—he instinctively felt overwhelming rage,

Leina's expression stiffened slightly as Carlos's intense fury pierced her mind through their colliding consciousness and psychic energy, causing her unbearable headache,

"Don't let him affect you—he is Carlos. His two heads speak only lies," Morpheston shouted, while fending off Carlos's spell and those of the other seven Lords of Change.

"You lie, Morpheston!" Carlos's two heads retorted in unison: "One head lies, the other tells the truth."

"And everything I'm saying right now is true!"

"You, Leina—listen! The power of the High Heaven is wasted on you!" Carlos cursed, then suddenly realized he had forgotten something,

SCRREEE!

The Emperor's Sword, blazing with searing flame, descended from behind Carlos, cleaving straight into his back,

scorching golden flames infused with the Emperor's psychic power erupted violently; Carlos recoiled in terror,

a grotesque, burning wound appeared on Carlos's back, violet-red aether drifting through the air,

"GAAAAAHHHHH!!!" Carlos let out a guttural moan.

"Perfect. I'm growing more envious of Corax and Khorze's abilities," Guilliman murmured, the Blindspot Star adorning his brow.

Carlos roared, using his foresight to instantly locate Guilliman's position and unleashed a barrage of arcane flames in return,

Guilliman merely narrowed his eyes; the mechanical fingers atop his Psychic Hat pointed at Carlos,

a powerful telekinetic tide collided with Carlos's arcane flames, the two forces locking in a stalemate,

the Psychic Hat, the Blindspot Star, Morpheston, and Leina's coordination were all designed to compensate for Guilliman's psychic deficiencies.

Carlos swung his Staff of Tomorrow; the other seven Greater Daemons simultaneously unleashed torrents of arcane fire toward the surrounded Guilliman,

but the mechanical fingers atop Guilliman's head clenched tightly—he flickered and vanished from his spot, reappearing beside Morpheston and Leina.

Carlos's two heads twisted in horror—he knew the effect of the device on Guilliman's head,

so he had prepared incantations to seal space, yet Guilliman's teleportation seemed to use neither the power of the High Heaven nor dimensional leaps—it simply happened, inexplicably,

This was not the High Heaven!

Carlos gasped heavily; even without his foresight, he knew he had no chance of defeating Guilliman, and his seven Greater Daemons stood little chance against Morpheston and that mentally impaired psychic,

that creature might be intellectually deficient, but her psychic talent was undeniably strong—a waste of the High Heaven's blessing,

and Morpheston—even Carlos himself had to take him seriously to guarantee victory,

his four eyes narrowed as he drew the seven Lords of Change before him, raised his Staff of Tomorrow high, and whispered a potent incantation,

Morpheston struck first, immense psychic energy surging through his body; his form rippled like a reflection on water, then in an instant split into three copies of himself,

using his overwhelming psychic power, he summoned versions of himself from thirty minutes and one hour ago into the present—within half an hour, all three would possess the exact same abilities as the current Morpheston,

the three Morphestons swung their silversteel longswords simultaneously, twisting time, and in the blink of an eye appeared before three of the Lords of Change.

Leina pulled a high-efficiency pill from her pocket and swallowed it, boosting her psychic output once more,

!

Uncontrollable psychic energy erupted from her body; every fiber of her flesh, down to the most fundamental quarks of matter, was immersed in the Warp—Leina nearly became a twisted humanoid form composed entirely of psychic energy,

then she pulled on her Superhuman Gloves, designed to amplify strength, over her nearly formless hands,

she drew a deep breath, and space shrieked; Leina launched herself like a cannonball toward two of the Lords of Change,

before the two Greater Daemons could react, her fists, wreathed in crushing psychic power, slammed into their beaked heads.

Meanwhile, Guilliman, wielding the Emperor's Sword blazing with flame and wearing the Psychic Hat on his head, stepped forward toward the last two Lords of Change and the Weaver of Fates—Carlos, whom they shielded.

The seven Lords of Change groaned in agony; they were mere Greater Daemons, incapable of standing against an Primarch, let alone Morpheston—they could only flee,

but cursed Carlos had bound them with spells, forcing them to act as his shields, while simultaneously draining their power to weave a twisted incantation that further weakened their already inadequate strength.

Yet Carlos ignored their fates, forcing them to charge forward and fight the trio.

Carlos raised his Staff of Tomorrow high, chanting a low, twisted, blasphemous incantation, channeling the power drawn from the other Greater Daemons to weave eight powerful spells,

the sound of these intertwined incantations was so immense it momentarily drowned out the clamor of battle,

Carlos silently began probing the negative emotions buried deep within Robert Guilliman's heart,

anger, guilt, sorrow, revulsion, pain—all became vividly clear to Carlos's gaze,

"Won!" Carlos's two beaks whispered in unison.

(End of Chapter)