Chapter 432: Ascend to Godhood?

This retribution-class battleship was constructed in the 221st year of the thirty-eighth millennium of humanity and had long served the Solar Fleet.

Its keel is in excellent condition, its machine-soul is emotionally stable, its armor has been fully replaced, and its ram has been maintained.

Its void shield array consists of four triple-layer void shield projectors; its sublight engines are the unique multi-tube plasma engines of Mars, granting it speed comparable to a conventional cruiser.

Its firepower primarily comes from its broadside macro-cannon arrays and a concealed series of torpedo tubes beneath the heavy armor of its bow— a single salvo can destroy a cruiser.

Of course, we still installed a lance array along the spine, these lances specially tuned to precisely harvest ships already crippled by macro-cannon fire.

A female Mechanicus priestess, half a head taller than Leina and with her lower body replaced by tracks, explained the condition of this retribution-class battleship in a voice laced with mechanical tones.

The Mechanicus priestess was clearly nervous; sweat streamed uncontrollably down her still-human-flesh face.

Before the Forge General departed for Terra, their orders had been merely to repaint the battleship, ensuring its appearance was passable.

But after the Forge General arrived on Terra, an urgent communication demanded they immediately and swiftly overhaul the retribution-class battleship—replace every component, from armor and void shields to weapon arrays, with the highest-quality models, without delay.

But time was short; only dozens of days were available, leaving the Mechanicus priests barely able to complete the task. Though the new armor, void shields, and weapon arrays were installed, much of the paint remained unfinished, cables crudely exposed, giving the vessel an ugly appearance.

The female Mechanicus priestess watched Leina, who was responsible for inspecting the vessel, with nervous eyes, fearing Leina would report dissatisfaction to the Forge General and accuse them of negligence.

But Leina paid no heed to the exposed steel plates and cables; she merely extended her hand and lightly stroked the wall.

The machine-soul within this retribution-class battleship seemed to scent the Qixi of a Saint Doraemon devotee on Leina, and voluntarily revealed its presence, flooding the ship with its joyful will.

Leina's potent psychic power sensed the machine-soul, perceiving its strength and its docility.

Leina involuntarily extended a trace of her psychic power to caress the machine-soul.

Yes, just a little, just a little.

BOOM!!!!

The entire retribution-class battleship shuddered as if a hurt kitten.

The female Mechanicus priestess immediately wore a panicked expression.

Though hastily modified, this retribution-class battleship should not have malfunctioned—such violent shaking should not occur!

Leina awkwardly withdrew her hand.

The machine-soul curled up, trembling pitifully, its gaze toward Leina like that of a kitten unaware of its own wrongdoing.

Yet the machine-soul quickly regained control, halting the battleship's shaking.

Seeing the female Mechanicus priestess's terrified expression, Leina felt even more embarrassed.

"Uh, good ship!" Leina hesitated, then spoke to break the awkward silence: "What a fine vessel!"

The female Mechanicus priestess exhaled sharply in relief.

Though spoken to ease the tension, Leina genuinely believed this was a fine vessel.

The machine-soul was docile yet powerful—this meant the battleship was immensely strong, and Leina loved such strength.

She remembered how, as a child, her mother, employed at the Asford Interstellar Trading Company, occasionally brought her to work.

On lucky days, Leina could watch massive cargo ships lift off from the starport.

The plasma engines' flames blazed so brilliantly, the mechanical roar so deafening, as if the entire world were screaming.

Leina had been deeply enchanted by this power since childhood.

Her devout mother would lift her up and whisper that this was the Emperor's might—the power of Omnissiah, as the Mechanicus called Him.

No, Mother, not only the Emperor's might, but also Saint Doraemon's—

Leina walked alongside the female Mechanicus member through this castle woven of steel, adamantium, and cables, feeling a deep sense of joy.

Who could have imagined that an illegal psyker born in a hive city would one day stroll through such a starship?

Along this journey, Leina had witnessed too many figures and scenes from myth; sometimes she truly doubted it was all just a dream.

When she awoke, she would still be in the Asford hive city, in the Ark Gang's hideout, worrying about Tyranid invasion.

Hmm?

"This is the designated rest chamber for the Astartes, and one of the conversion points for battle barges," the female Mechanicus priestess continued beside Leina.

But Leina suddenly stopped walking. She raised her hand to signal silence, then slowly turned her head toward her back.

Due to the tight schedule, only temporary lighting had been installed inside the ship; many areas remained shrouded in shadow.

Those shadows were deep, dark, drifting like mist, like living things, like… like blurred boundaries.

"Who's there?!" Leina growled, releasing her psychic power like lightning.

Her psychic radiance illuminated the surroundings, yet could not pierce the deep shadows at all.

Faintly, Leina heard the roar of a lion.

Ascend to godhood?

Become the true Omnissiah?

Zhou Yun, listening to the brown-haired boy beside him, felt a chill crawl over his skin.

What does this inherently evil brown-skinned brat intend to do?

He actually wants me to ascend to godhood?

Zhou Yun stepped back slightly from the brown-haired boy.

He roughly understood the Emperor's meaning.

The Emperor meant Zhou Yun could sell the Dragon of Mars using his fourth-dimensional pocket.

Judging from the incident where Zhou Yun consumed Inard, selling a being through the fourth-dimensional pocket is, on the Warp level, equivalent to Zhou Yun devouring it.

Everything of the Dragon of Mars—or Omnissiah—in the Warp will be absorbed by Zhou Yun.

But unlike the Dragon of Mars, Zhou Yun himself does not reject or isolate from the Warp; the Mechanicus' faith and the emotions directed toward Omnissiah will converge upon him.

"Can this seize the position of the Malicious Art?" Zhou Yun asked, frowning.

"No. Without sufficient sacrifice, without intense emotion, devouring the Dragon of Mars is insufficient for your direct ascension."

"But it will bring you extremely close to that position. You will inevitably tread the path of ascension, truly beginning to compete for the throne of the Malicious Art."

The brown-haired boy said slowly:

"At that time, the Warp will clearly split into two factions: some entities will support your ascension, aiding you to draw ever closer to apotheosis."

"Others will support your rival, the Creator Vashthor, attempting to block your ascension and cultivate Vashthor's claim to the throne of the Malicious Art."

"Vashthor represents a future of greater chaos, more change, more war and slaughter—Khorne and Tzeentch will support Him."

"Nurgle and Slaanesh will lean toward you—your future is more constant, gentler, better able to satisfy human desires, bringing better life to the galaxy."

"Of course, I will support you too—so your odds are actually very high."

As the Emperor said, indeed, the odds are high.

Even if the Emperor's current state is heavily restricted, even if He has not yet truly ascended as the Dark King, three against two favors Zhou Yun's side.

Not to mention, excluding the gods, Zhou Yun holds Sanguinius and Roboute Guilliman as Primarchs; with the Emperor, Nurgle, and the Cifu 's forces, the numbers grow even larger.

Among Greater Daemons, Zhou Yun has Fat Tiger and Wild-Boy Emperor—utterly superior.

Against Zhou Yun now, Vashthor's odds are slim.

But the real question is: why should Zhou Yun ascend to godhood? Is he bored?

"You will not truly ascend to godhood. As I said before—you lack sufficient sacrifice."

"You need a high-ranking, soul-bearing, thriving race as sacrifice to complete your ascension."

The brown-haired boy continued:

"Even if you have sacrifice, you will not become a god, because I have not yet ascended."

"There is no time in the Warp. Those thrones have existed since the beginning; they will descend in sequence. All reality merely triggers their arrival, unable to block or disrupt their order."

"The Dark King is the fifth. As long as I refuse to descend as the Dark King, there will never be a sixth, seventh, or eighth."

"So even with sacrifice, you will only become a being like me—stuck at the final moment before ascension, born yet un-born, infinitely close to completeness yet never fully complete."

"But you will be freer than I. I will bear the pressure of ascension; you may freely unleash your authority, oppose the gods, and protect humanity."

The brown-haired boy stared intently at Zhou Yun, as if awaiting his choice.

Zhou Yun couldn't help but frown.

The Emperor's words sounded good—but is there truly no cost to becoming an entity infinitely close to godhood?

Just look at the Emperor's current state.

"I will not say there is no cost."

The Emperor seemed to read Zhou Yun's thoughts:

"The faith and emotions of countless beings will influence you; the souls devoted to you will influence you."

"But you are freer than I. You may freely shape the form of your worship, minimizing such influence as much as possible."

"This is truly achievable now, a swift way to gain advantage and improve the entire galaxy."

"I give you the Dragon of Mars. Make your own judgment."

(End of Chapter)