Chapter 374

"Gaga."

Tzeentch let out a sharp, bird-like cry, anxiously extending his power into every corner of his realm.

The shattered regions within the Crystal Labyrinth began to be continuously repaired, and the daemons from other realms were driven out bit by bit.

However, a significant number of regions remained corrupted and defiled by Khorne, Nurgle, and Slaanesh, having become their domains entirely. Tzeentch could not directly interfere with those areas using his own power; he had to win them back through a new round of the Great Game—though, of course, it was possible he might never win them back at all.

But there was at least hope for these; what made Tzeentch feel most irritable were the regions occupied by the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang.

The Master of Mankind had incinerated those areas with scorching flames, turning everything into scorched earth and leaving behind only pure destruction.

Those domains were completely destroyed, just like the daemons utterly annihilated by the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang's fire; neither Tzeentch nor any other god could ever occupy them again.

Tzeentch roughly calculated that he had lost nearly one-fifth of his domains.

The domains of Mutation, Aberration, and Numbers had been largely seized by Nurgle; the desires for Power and Self-Transcendence had been snatched away by Slaanesh; and the strategies of War had been plundered by Khorne.

Tzeentch's power had weakened significantly all at once.

Generally speaking, because the galaxy was currently full of war, the strongest of the Four Gods was Khorne, followed by Tzeentch, then Nurgle, and finally Slaanesh.

But if massive rebellions, changes, and reforms were to appear in the galaxy, Tzeentch would ascend to the first position.

If great plagues, stagnation, or decay were to appear in the galaxy, Nurgle would ascend to be the strongest.

If indulgence, hunger, and art were to become popular in the galaxy, Slaanesh's power would be greatly enhanced.

But now, with the ebb and flow of power, Tzeentch felt his strength had weakened almost to the point of being inferior to Nurgle, though still stronger than Slaanesh.

This meant that for a long time, he would have to focus more of his attention on the Warp and the Great Game, trying his best to reclaim his lost power.

His focus on the material universe would have to be reduced significantly, even though it was currently a critical moment in the material universe.

"How detestable! You blue raccoon cat!"

Tzeentch's face was ferocious as he cursed in a hoarse voice while lifting a dumbbell with one hand.

To think that a mere secondary god who hadn't truly ascended to the throne, a mere half-pawn, had actually played him to such an extent.

The only good news was that he had taken the opportunity to seize a portion of the domains related to muscle building, fitness, and exercise from the hands of Khorne and Slaanesh.

These domains were, in the final analysis, the enhancement of the self, dissatisfaction with the current stagnation of the physical body, and the pursuit of changes in the fleshly form.

By gnawing on and occupying these areas, Tzeentch had barely managed to compensate for some of his losses.

It was just that this had also greatly changed Tzeentch himself and his domains, causing Tzeentch to feel a strong sense of discomfort.

He had to spend more time digesting those domains.

"Just you wait, you blue raccoon cat."

Tzeentch said through gritted teeth while starting Bulgarian split squats.

But as it happened, he had to focus on the Great Game while also being busy digesting the domains of muscle, fitness, and exercise; for the moment, he simply couldn't spare the hands to deal with that blue raccoon cat stuck in a body in the material universe.

Tzeentch couldn't even deal with Zhou Yun through Ma Genusi and the Thousand Sons.

Ma Genusi was currently leading his low-body-fat progeny to start working out on a steroid planet; Tzeentch could not forcibly demand that Ma Genusi give up fitness, the pursuit of muscular change, and go to the material universe to act on his will.

Just as Slaanesh could not make Fulgrim give up indulgence, and Khorne could not make Angron give up anger.

Thus, traces of destiny began to appear before Tzeentch's eyes.

Even if he couldn't do it himself, Tzeentch could still subtly push the course of destiny to select suitable pawns to confront the blue raccoon cat for him.

He began dumbbell bench presses with both hands while searching for the perfect pawns in destiny.

He soon found three old pawns he could utilize; they had all been blessed by the Four Gods and were just right for dealing with that blue raccoon cat.

"Gagagaga, everything is according to plan!"

In the Warp, within that portion of the realm where Slaanesh and Nurgle intertwined,

Purple and gold-interwoven mists of obscenity drifted constantly, and Slaanesh daemons boasted to each other about the venereal diseases they had just contracted.

Green and brown-fused vapors of vengeance stagnated and clogged, and Nurgle daemons stirred cauldrons to cultivate brand-new venereal diseases.

This part of the realm was precisely about venereal diseases, and the Grandfather generously used this portion of the realm to compensate for Slaanesh's losses in the areas of fitness, muscle building, and muscles.

The wills of the two intertwined in this realm, constantly communicating and conversing.

Slaanesh's will extended from the bedchamber; he lay elegantly on the couch, twisting his obscene yet pure body, constantly enjoying the new experiences brought by the new domains.

This time he had gained quite a bit, second only to Nurgle, who had even sent out his Primarch, so he was naturally in a good mood.

However, Slaanesh also felt slightly puzzled.

"Grandfather, why did you let me cede a portion of the domains of muscle, fitness, and muscle building to Tzeentch?"

"Although these domains don't have a high compatibility with him and will make him feel painful and difficult to digest, it is, after all, a gain for him."

Slaanesh licked his lips and asked the Plague God in a soft tone.

However, Nurgle, who was stirring the thick soup, just chuckled.

"Everything is guided by numerology."

This Plague God, who followed the guidance of numerology and ended up with the greatest harvest, said so.

Imperial Viceroy Tiruien had been enduring immense pain over the past ten-plus days.

This pain was spiritual, torturing his heart every single moment.

In the long years before this, Tiruien had always felt that although every one of the twelve High Lords had mental illnesses, they were, without exception, among the most outstanding people in the Empire.

Now Tiruien felt that perhaps having mental illnesses was precisely what made them outstanding as High Lords.

How could they be so calm in the face of those things? So cold and ruthless?

The Inquisition's representative issued the "Cleopatra Cleopatra Cleopatra Er Si Decree," and all regular armed forces on Terra were recalled to the Imperial Palace, stationed on the Eternity Wall, while vast areas of the city were completely abandoned, leaving them only with a small amount of security forces from the Fawu Force.

Cleopatra Cleopatra Cleopatra Er Si and Tiruien both understood what this meant.

Tiruien felt dizzy; he still remembered the district governors who roared at him, fighting in blood and slaughtering the Khorne believers who surged out from the depths of the Terra Hive World.

Some of them understood the choice of the "Cleopatra Cleopatra Cleopatra Er Si Decree," some cursed the "Cleopatra Cleopatra Cleopatra Er Si Decree" as murder, and some accused the High Lords of only caring about their own safety, accusing Tiruien of being a coward hiding in the rear.

Whether it was understanding or cursing, it made Tiruien feel extremely painful, as if his heart had been torn apart.

But he knew he had to do it; the Grey Knights, the Astropathic Choir, and the Inquisition had all made the same prophecy.

Daemons were about to descend upon Terra, the Wang Zuo was in jeopardy, and they had to shrink their defensive lines to the Eternity Wall.

So Tiruien signed the "Cleopatra Cleopatra Cleopatra Er Si Decree" with almost no hesitation.

Another thing that made Tiruien feel painful and also hesitant was... the return of the Primarchs.

The Abbess of the Sisters of Battle, Mo Wen, brought this news to Tiruien.

She claimed that Saint Doraemon—a Chaos God—had resurrected the two Primarchs, Sanguinius and Guilliman, who were about to arrive at the Moon.

And the evil power of the Changer of Ways was chasing them; Terra had to send reinforcements to the Moon.

This was very difficult because the forces they wanted to mobilize included the Adeptus Custodes, Sisters of Silence, Sisters of Battle, and Navy ships.

Among them, the Adeptus Custodes were even bound by the "Restriction Decree" and were not allowed to leave Terra at all.

Unless the twelve High Lords collectively agreed, this matter could not be completed in a way that complied with Imperial law.

But the only ones supporting this were the Inquisition representative Cleopatra Cleopatra Cleopatra Er Si, the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes Trajann, and the Astropathic Choir representative Kai Laplin.

Who could move these watchers of the Wang Zuo away from Terra without anyone noticing? Who could hide it from the eyes of the other High Lords? Who could control the Eternity Gate spaceport and enough ships? Who had so many resources and political capabilities?

Of course, it was the greedy, corrupt, and insidious old Tiruien.

Tiruien worried that there was corruption involved, although the probability of the Sisters of Battle being corrupted was extremely small, and he was really not familiar with Lady Mo Wen.

However, he knew the loyalty of Cleopatra Cleopatra Cleopatra Er Si and Kai Laplin, and he couldn't imagine Trajann, the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes, betraying the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang.

Therefore, after hesitation, he still agreed to help.

Relying on the vast wealth accumulated through corruption, Tiruien soon bribed a large number of relevant personnel and quietly sent the Adeptus Custodes, Sisters of Battle, and Sisters of Silence to the Moon.

He only hoped that the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang would bless their souls, and his own as well.

Tiruien lay dormant in his small room, accompanied only by his assistant Jieji, hoping to avoid the increasingly crazy things happening on Terra.

Light—

Light tore through the clouds of Terra; this was the first time in Tiruien's nearly two-hundred-year life that he had seen the vast, boundless stars on Terra.

He saw those low-altitude defense platforms standing in orbit, saw the massive void docks, saw the Imperial Fists' flagship, the Phalanx.

And he saw that pale, huge, and ferocious Moon.

Usually, the sky of Terra was covered by thick clouds; this was the first time Tiruien had ever seen the Moon on Terra.

Now, it was as if a pair of powerful, muscular arms reached out from the Moon, shattering...

"The Wang Zuo is above, may the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang protect—" Jieji stood beside Tiruien, looking at the Moon outside the window with him through that small window.

"No!" Tiruien quickly felt an ominous feeling; he hurriedly pulled Jieji away, realizing one thing at the same time.

Lady Mo Wen was right; there was indeed a battle breaking out on the Moon, and the power of blasphemy was infecting Earth's satellite.

Scarlet evil light flickered and changed constantly on the Moon, ugly and full of the aura of corruption.

But then, the blue and gold-interwoven light of order began to collide with the scarlet evil light, evenly matched.

Fear arose in the bottom of Tiruien's heart, but at the same time, a little hypocritical hope arose.

Hope.

Soon Tiruien received more information from the Moon.

The Geller field readings on the Moon were seriously exceeded, several powerful psyker individuals were colliding, the terraforming engine of the Moon's core was inexplicably activated, and the Adeptus Custodes were taking action.

There was also the order from the Master of the Administratum, Irtu Simotrien; he clearly guessed that it was Tiruien who had facilitated the actions of the Adeptus Custodes, Sisters of Battle, and Sisters of Silence.

In the communication, he cursed Tiruien's solo action as a betrayal, demanding the immediate mobilization of the Astra Militarum to the Moon, while simultaneously sealing off the entire Imperial Palace and forbidding any ships from the Moon from landing.

Tiruien couldn't be sure what Irtu really wanted to do; his orders contradicted those of the other High Lords. Now panic, chaos, and fanaticism were breaking out in the Imperial Palace, and everything was chaotic.

"I want to go to the Moon." Tiruien leaned heavily on his chair and said to Jieji.

Jieji seemed amused; her expression was as if asking Tiruien: What can a man as old and fat as him do?

"I can make the gates of Terra open or close, I can restrain the Astra Militarum to make them stand on the right side; if miracles really exist, I can help those two quickly grasp the political situation of Terra, obtain the highest power, and help them go to the Wang Zuo Room..."

Tiruien's voice grew smaller and smaller, as if he had lost his own confidence.

He could indeed do all these things, but how could those two not be able to do them?

The talents of the God's offspring far exceeded those of a man as old and fat as him.

"I must go. I've had enough; I watch everyone go to the battlefield, while I can only hide in a safe house and shiver alone."

"At least let me do something."

"You might die." Jieji stared at Tiruien, her tone warning.

"Ha, then I have indeed lived enough." Tiruien suddenly felt a surge of anger and couldn't help but roar: "I cannot just send others to the battlefield to die."

Jieji looked at Tiruien for a while, and finally, she laughed out loud with a touch of madness.

Perhaps it wasn't just Jieji; Tiruien himself also carried some madness, and their spirits were almost at their limit.

"Then let's go, together."

So Tiruien and Jieji boarded a void ship to the Moon. On the way, they were indeed blocked, perhaps because the blockade order of the Master of the Administratum, Irtu, had already begun to be executed, or perhaps other High Lords had begun to respond.

Many void fighters tried to intercept Tiruien.

But Tiruien, as the Imperial Viceroy, was always good at solving problems efficiently; he chose to have a chat with the pilots of those fighters.

A chat about how quickly he, as the Imperial Viceroy, could get a kill team to locate their families.

So Tiruien soon arrived on the surface of the Moon.

But he was still a bit late.

The Adeptus Mechanicus of Mars had already arrived on the Moon, and those sages with massive bodies who had undergone many modifications were walking on the Moon.

There were also the Imperial Fists; those warriors in orange-yellow power armor were building fortresses around the crater, seemingly to protect the alien-made archway at the bottom of the crater.

Tiruien also saw the Living Saint Celestine; that figure was almost exactly the same as the one on the murals of the Ecclesiarchy, holy and beautiful, and Lady Mo Wen was piously talking to her.

But Tiruien didn't stop his steps; he just stumbled forward with a certain obsession until he saw those two glorious figures.

Tiruien could hardly be sure what he was seeing.

He felt as if he were looking at a blue-gold storm of order and a sad yet great sacrifice.

Almost half a minute later, Tiruien truly recognized those two faces he had been required to remember since childhood.

"Prime Minister of the Imperial Senate." The first to notice Tiruien was that rational existence wearing blue-gold power armor.

He saw the badge of rank on Tiruien's clothes and read it out in High Gothic.

And that golden, angel-like existence also noticed Tiruien; the Archangel smiled and nodded at Tiruien.

For a moment, the madness and pain in Tiruien's heart were suppressed, and those blasphemous, filthy voices from the Warp almost disappeared... except for the song praising Doraemon.

But Tiruien didn't see any Doraemon here, didn't see any traces of corruption, and he let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"Lord Guilliman, Lord Sanguinius."

Tiruien knelt on both knees, piously kowtowing, tears streaming down his face:

"You have really returned, returned pure and unpolluted."

"Not as they claimed, corrupted by that Chaos God Doraemon—"

Hearing Tiruien's words, Guilliman's hand, which was halfway extended to help him up, froze in place.

A trace of embarrassment also flashed across Sanguinius's face.

Then Zhou Yun, who was communicating with the Adeptus Custodes Shield-Captain Valerian, popped his head out and asked curiously: "Is someone looking for me?"

Tiruien instinctively looked at Zhou Yun; he noticed the pocket on Zhou Yun's stomach. From the rumors circulating in those astropathic communications, Tiruien had heard of that pocket.

And, and Tiruien vaguely saw that inside that seemingly mortal body, a huge, blue raccoon cat full of magnificent divinity was squeezed.

Two threads extended from the raccoon cat's round hands, connecting to the two Primarchs.

"Ugh—" Tiruien couldn't catch his breath, his eyes rolled back instantly, and he lay straight on the lunar soil.

"Apothecary!!!"

"Quick, get an apothecary! Or a psyker other than Leina!"

"The Imperial Prime Minister has collapsed again!"

"Abaddon."

A cold voice with a hint of anger rang out in the pitch-black bridge.

Abaddon's eyes rolled back, and he almost fell over directly.

His ancient veteran Justaerin Terminator squad had been cut down again, again, and again.

The axe bathed in blood spun with a buzzing sound, merging with the daemon, ferocious and terrifying.

Even the heavy armor of the Justaerin Terminators seemed vulnerable under that chainaxe that once belonged to a Primarch.

"Kharn! How dare you treat the Warmaster—" Abaddon's captain of the bodyguard, the commander of the Despoilers, Falkus Kibre, roared.

He raised the bolter in his hand.

But before he could fire, his head flew into the sky amidst the roar of the chainaxe.

"Abaddon." Kharn's voice was low and powerful, jumping in Abaddon's heart like a drumbeat.

If Abaddon didn't have these wounds on him, if he were still in his prime, he could rely on the daemon sword Drach'nyen to not fear Kharn.

But not now; the current Abaddon could at most fight at full strength for a few minutes, which was barely enough to deal with the Chaos Lords under his command, but against Kharn...

Even Sigismund in his youth wouldn't dare say he could defeat Kharn in a few minutes.

"What exactly do you want? Kharn!" Abaddon roared in terror.

"Revenge, an eye for an eye, blood for blood."

Kharn said to Abaddon in a hoarse voice, slowly:

"I wanted to invite you to join me, but you were too cowardly."

"Now, pay me the reward for fighting for you."

"Can't you consider the big picture?!" Abaddon roared angrily: "For the sake of mere hatred, you betrayed the Blood God, and now you betray my cause?"

After the war in the Warp ended, Kharn sought out Abaddon, demanding that Abaddon pay his reward.

Abaddon was naturally unwilling to pay for a failed war, and even more unwilling to let go of Kharn, this valuable combat force.

Then Kharn, the butcher in action, used slaughter to express his protest against the unpaid wages.

"Is this the reason you let Erebus kill Loken?"

Garviel Loken, Captain of the 10th Company of the Luna Wolves, Abaddon's sworn brother.

Long before the Great Heresy, Kharn, Angor Thrax, Sigismund, and Loken had forged a friendship in the arena.

They were friends, brothers of different blood, only Sigismund and Loken chose loyalty.

Sigismund died at Abaddon's hands; Kharn didn't hate him, because it was a victory decided in a battle full of honor, and Sigismund died with honor.

But Loken died from Erebus's sneak attack; Kharn hated it. A figure like Loken shouldn't have died like that, nor should he have died at the hands of a villain like Erebus.

What made Kharn even more indignant was that Abaddon witnessed Loken's death with his own eyes at the time, but did nothing.

"I was angry!" Abaddon immediately retorted.

But such a pale and weak response only made Kharn feel ridiculous, because Abaddon did nothing after being angry for a moment.

"That wasn't anger, that was just cowardice." Kharn evaluated: "If you were angry, you should have killed Erebus on the spot."

"Loken was an enemy!" Abaddon gritted his teeth and retorted.

"He was your brother even more." Kharn shook his head and said: "Debating with blades, and then giving him an honorable death with blades, that is what you should have done."

"You shouldn't have let a beast like Erebus take away Loken's life and honor, especially with a despicable sneak attack. You let Loken... no, you let Horus and the honor of all his progeny be humiliated."

"But it's not too late now. Come with me and kill Erebus. Together, we will wash away the humiliation suffered by Loken... and also Angor Thrax."

"After the revenge is over, if I am still alive, I am willing to serve you until I cut off the head of a Primarch."

Abaddon's pupils trembled slightly; the price Kharn offered was indeed tempting.

But Abaddon still shook his head: "I have more important things to do."

Kharn was silent. Merged with that daemon, he could clearly perceive the existence of the Warp.

He could faintly sense that Abaddon's mind seemed to have just been manipulated. Was it the Changer of Ways?

"Then pay me my reward." Kharn looked at Abaddon with a hint of pity in his eyes.

Abaddon gritted his teeth; he looked around and knew he couldn't refuse Kharn now.

"What do you want?" Abaddon asked.

"I know you have a partnership with the Alpha Legion."

Kharn whispered:

"Tell me, has the head of the Hydra reached into Terra, reached into the Imperial Palace, and entrenched itself beside those bureaucrats?"

"Those progeny of Alpharius, do they have a way to bring me into the Imperial Palace?"

(End of chapter)