Chapter 477: Kesoraks: Shit!

Kesoraks felt every bone in his body shattered, his flesh mangled and fused with shattered steel around him, unbearable pain searing through him, his eyes filled with spilled blood, seeing nothing clearly.

Hum. Hum. Hum.

The Butcher's Nail on Kesoraks's skull still hummed, urging him to submit to rage.

Fuck your mother, Eribas, fuck your father too—why the hell are you still buzzing here when I'm about to die? Can't you let me have a moment of peace?

Kesoraks suppressed the rage churned up by the Butcher's Nail without much effort.

Before dying, he wanted to savor a little quiet, a moment of stillness.

Why hadn't he just died outright?

The hundred-armed Khorne beast could have easily crushed Kesoraks and taken his life.

But it didn't. It held back at the last moment; though it shattered his body under Eribas's command, it deliberately refrained from killing him outright.

Perhaps it still remembered the favor Kesoraks received from the rightful Regent of the World Eaters, who once fed him himself—well, at least it still had a shred of conscience.

But it meant nothing anyway—this Conqueror had been seized by the Loyalists; Kesoraks's fate was sealed.

He could only wait here for death to come.

Where would he go after death?

The Golden Throne was out of the question—the Emperor would never save a traitor like him.

Was there still hope for the Brass Throne? Hmph—Eribas claimed to act on the Blood God's will. Did betraying Eribas count as defying the Blood God's will?

Realizing this, Kesoraks's heart sank—he cursed the Butcher's Nail for betraying him at the last moment.

Why had he impulsively swung his axe at Eribas?

Now he'd lost even the chance to return to the Brass Throne.

What fate would his soul suffer?

Become food for demons? Crushed by the tide of Chaos?

Yet, betraying Eribas and slashing him—Kesoraks couldn't say he regretted it.

He even felt pride, a sense of honor he'd never known before.

And Lady Sareen had promised Kesoraks she'd promote him to company commander—wait, had she actually promised that?

Kesoraks thought back—he hadn't heard Captain Sareen's reply before the Khorne beast had hurled him away.

That worried him—if he died, would Captain Sareen posthumously appoint him as company commander?

The World Eaters had no precedent for such a thing.

At that moment, Kesoraks began to resent Khaan and Angron again.

If not for them, he wouldn't have had the Butcher's Nail implanted in his mind, and he wouldn't be in this predicament.

If there was a next time, and he met Angron or Khaan again, even if he had to die, he'd swing his axe at them one last time.

"Still alive? Lucky you," a dull voice suddenly echoed beside Kesoraks.

Through the blood caking his eyes, Kesoraks faintly saw a figure clad in red armor, reeking of blood, stepping down from above on broken steel rebar toward him.

Kesoraks's eyes filled with tears.

Loyalty revealed in hardship!

This World Eater had risked everything, braving the Loyalists' encirclement, to come here and save him.

A loyal general! My Saint Guilliman! My Rogal Dorn!

Kesoraks had decided: no matter who this warrior was, he'd reward him, promote him, and grant him the title "The Loyal."

He'd honor him, proclaim his deeds aloud, let everyone witness this loyal warrior's glory, and shame traitors like Khaan.

"Hurry, my loyal servant."

Kesoraks forced himself to sound dignified, coughed up two mouthfuls of blood, and spoke to the World Eater warrior he couldn't see:

"The traitor Khaan still roams the Conqueror. The ambitious Space Marines—those Blood Angels, painted red like us—hide in shadows, too cowardly to face me in open battle. The Raven Guard lurk there too."

"If you want to save me, you must move fast, stay hidden, and keep your wits."

Kesoraks's words left the World Eater warrior who came to rescue him stunned—he didn't seem to understand what Kesoraks was saying.

Kesoraks felt frustrated—how could he, the rightful Regent of the World Eaters, be so ignorant of the art of rule and speech?

He must discipline his men, maintain authority before them, yet also reward them, project warmth.

He must care for his men's psychology—that was one reason he'd won the loyalty of multiple warbands and thousands of World Eaters.

"My loyal servant, don't fear the enemies I mentioned."

"It was Eribas's betrayal that brought me to this state. Once I recover, neither Eribas, Kaelen, Sarokin, nor even Khaan will be a threat."

"And rest assured—if you save me, I'll reward you."

"I'll make you a company commander. First Company? No—how about you lead the Eighth Company?"

The warrior laughed, extended his bare, chain-wrapped arms, and lifted Kesoraks's broken body.

Wait—bare arms wrapped in iron chains?

Kesoraks's heart lurched—he felt a terrible premonition.

No no no—it must be coincidence. It has to be.

Some World Eaters do dress like this.

"Sure, Regent Prince. I'll be your company commander."

"First Company? No thanks—I'll stick with Eighth Company, like before," came the dull voice. Kesoraks's two hearts jolted.

At that moment, the blood caked on Kesoraks's eyes was washed away by his tears—his vision cleared.

"K-Khaan." Kesoraks trembled violently.

"It's me, Regent. Your company commander, the Loyal—Khaan."

Kesoraks's eyes rolled back, and he fainted.

When he awoke, what he saw confused him.

He met Saint Doraemon—the great being Eribas spoke of looked no different from a mortal.

But Kesoraks soon witnessed his power.

He healed Kesoraks effortlessly.

Though the method was strange—he plunged a long, thick, black sword into Kesoraks's body.

The black blade pierced Kesoraks's chest, rupturing both his hearts—he went black before his eyes, certain he was dead.

But when he opened them again, his wounds were gone.

Saint Doraemon praised Kesoraks's courage for attacking Eribas, and asked him to lead his World Eaters under his command.

Kesoraks hesitated.

But after thinking it through—he'd defied the Blood God by betraying Eribas; returning to the Blood God was impossible.

As a traitor, a Regent of a rebel legion, he couldn't possibly join the Emperor.

Nurgle? He didn't want to become a stinking jar.

Tzeentch? The Changer of Ways? Kesoraks had neither the intelligence nor the education—he couldn't even speak High Gothic.

Slaanesh? That was for artists. Kesoraks had no artistic sensibility.

Of course, there were lesser entities in the Warp—but to Kesoraks, they were just fly-by-night startups: Maris, Bilak, and the like—all unreliable.

After careful thought, it seemed Saint Doraemon was his only viable path.

Especially after seeing Khaan and Captain Sareen both had already sworn fealty to Saint Doraemon—hesitant as he was, Kesoraks chose to convert and pledged to lead his World Eaters under him.

When Khaan appeared to announce the World Eaters' fate, many warriors stirred restlessly, the Butcher's Nail humming.

Though Khaan had once been the true Legion Lord, he had betrayed and abandoned the Legion.

But when Kesoraks appeared to announce the same, the World Eaters grew calmer—though their eyes still held doubt, the Butcher's Nail still hummed.

Kesoraks had won their loyalty, but his experience was too shallow to fully convince them.

The decisive blow came from Lady Lotala Sareen—when the Conqueror's captain stood before them, the ancient battle-hardened veterans froze; even the World Eaters most corrupted by the Butcher's Nail trembled, unable to believe their dead leader had returned.

Lotala Sareen spoke of the Blood God's betrayal, of Eribas's deeds.

She asked the World Eaters: would they be free rebels—or continue licking Eribas's ass as slaves?

The World Eaters roared their oath: they would sever Eribas's head, avenge the Legion, avenge Sareen, avenge the Conqueror.

Then came the happiest, most glorious moment of Kesoraks's life.

Khaan knelt on one knee, bowed his head, and declared he would recognize Kesoraks as Legion Regent, surrendering all his power and duties to him in the name of Saint Doraemon.

Lotala Sareen herself lifted a crown forged from blood and shattered steel from the Conqueror's bridge, and placed it upon Kesoraks's head—making him truly the Legion's Regent.

Even Saint Doraemon blessed Kesoraks, praising him as the World Eaters' Guilliman, a diligent Regent.

He gifted Kesoraks a powerful artifact—the High-Efficiency Pill, said to boost efficiency in everything one did.

The glory Kesoraks had longed for had finally come to him.

He was happy—until he returned to the bridge.

Mountains of paperwork lay before him—his duties as Regent.

"Ah! Shit!"

"Something's wrong!"

(End of Chapter)