Within the completely devastated Arena, the shattered bodies of the Deathwatch Space Marines had been gathered together and neatly laid out along the broad passageway.
The Sisters softly chanted hymns, covering the bodies with ceremonial robes torn from their own garments before lighting the flames.
In these extraordinary times, there were no grand monasteries or choirs to bear witness to these warriors' deaths.
After some thought, Arthur placed his Power Sword and shield, which were clearly relics at a glance, atop an altar piled from shoulder plates engraved with inscriptions.
"Emperor, my Lord, make me the instrument that receives Your servants."
"Your servant fears neither death nor Demon, for the Emperor shall come to receive him."
"Grant Your servant a righteous road home; grant Your servant a blazing road home."
"Make me the wind that bears Your servant's name, scattering all his foes."
Canoness Arabella's clear, devout voice dispersed the crimson miasma.
Arthur gazed at the flames lit with sacred oil, watching them envelop the warriors' bodies. The originally scarlet fire gradually turned into dazzling Auramite as it burned, cremating the corpses with extraordinary intensity.
The drifting ashes clung to the flames like a liquid golden river, flowing toward the altar.
Seeing this, the Sisters around them had the fires of faith ignite in their eyes. They lowered their gazes to conceal their light-leaking pupils and chanted with even greater devotion.
Sure enough, the Emperor was getting involved.
Arthur had expected this as he watched the molten-gold flames swallow his blade and shield.
The Warp had never belonged entirely to the Chaos Gods. Compared to the Imperium's current disputes over the Emperor's identity, Transmigrators like them possessed a more comprehensive understanding of who the Emperor was.
He could absorb the power of humanity's faith just like the Chaos Gods, possessed a majestic projection in the Warp just like theirs, and had a vast, boundless sacred domain known as the Golden Throne, much like the domains of the Chaos Gods.
After the future Great Rift tore through the Milky Way, He would be able to deploy the Legion of the Damned into the material world as freely as the Chaos Gods deployed Demons. In fact, thanks to humanity's faith in the Emperor, it was far easier for Him to project His power than it was for the other four Chaos Gods.
Well, if the Emperor said He wasn't a god, then He wasn't a god. Whatever He said was right.
Arthur offered silent respect to the warriors who had fought until death, quietly waiting for the flames to disperse. The blade and shield had already been coated in a layer of matte black during the smelting.
"Hmph!"
The Blood God, who had been watching The Great Game, noticed the actions of the cursed ones.
He did not care.
Because He was furious.
An inexplicable feeling that He had missed something made His already enraged mind even more violent. It felt very much like those champions who had accepted His blessings, only to eventually head for the Golden Throne.
He smashed the armrest of the Brass Throne with all His strength. Towers of skulls toppled, and blood rain filled the sky.
Within the chaotic Immaterium, the stakes of The Great Game were raised once more.
Clang~
Stepping forward, Arthur picked up the sword and shield, whose images had been obscured but which now appeared even more restrained and magnificent. Within the shoulder plates bearing their names were the warriors' ashes.
It seemed the Emperor had already set His eyes upon them.
Arthur let out a breath of relief, grateful for his decision to let the Sisters preside over the ritual.
In this damned world, returning one's soul to the Golden Throne counted as a decent end.
Believing in the Emperor was always better than falling into Chaos.
"My lord."
Canoness Arabella spoke.
"I hope to forge reliquaries for the Angels. These reliquaries will carry their honor back to their battle-brothers."
"...All right."
Feeling that his attitude had been somewhat stiff, Arthur, still not fully proficient with the language, added another sentence.
"Thank you."
"...Thank you for the honor you have bestowed, my lord."
Arabella swore to the Emperor that she had never seen an angel like this.
It was not that such an angel was bad, but—he made her feel deeply unaccustomed, as if a demigod had regarded her as an equal.
This was equality between souls, not a courtesy concealed beneath etiquette.
As soon as Arthur finished speaking, the Sisters devoutly began lifting the shoulder plates containing the ashes, wrapping the ashes in sacred shrouds before igniting the Promethium Flamers.
Amid the intense heat and the Sisters' humming hymns, the armor fragments melted and were reshaped into silver reliquaries bearing the distinctive style of the Order of the Sacred Rose, with the corresponding warrior's shoulder plate set into each one.
Their craftsmanship was exquisite.
Arthur did not really understand these rituals for mourning the dead, but he respected them.
As long as it was not some absurd ritual involving flayed daylilies and artificial infant corpses turned into Angels for incense bathing.
At least in Arthur's view, the Order of the Sacred Rose's process felt rather sacred and did not look heretical.
"Does this mean the Emperor intends to conceal us?"
Romulus came to his side and immediately noticed that Arthur's equipment had become the same color as his own paint scheme.
Everyone had mentally prepared themselves for the possibility that the gods of the Warp might notice them.
After all, they had landed directly in the Warp. None of them were arrogant enough to think they were chosen ones who could punch C'tan and kick the Chaos Gods the moment they arrived.
It could only be said that those of them who had transmigrated into the Warhammer World were very self-aware. True chosen ones would never transmigrate into such a shitty place.
They were more like Forsaken Children.
Still, as Transmigrators who knew countless secrets, the fact that they had survived in the Warp until now without drawing the attention of a Chaos God because of the information in their minds and turning into Chaos Spawn was rather unbelievable.
"I don't know."
Arthur did not know whether the Emperor had noticed their existence. At first, he had merely wanted to add something weighty to the warriors' farewell ceremony. Who knew that a single prayer would give his weapons a new skin?
The Emperor really liked giving people Black Swords.
"Is the field all right?"
Unable to figure it out, Arthur stopped thinking about it and asked.
"It's done."
Romulus shook the thing dangling from his hand.
"Because of this guy."
Arthur nodded. Noticing the Psyker corpse dangling from Romulus's hand, he immediately felt a chill run down his spine.
"Does the Geller Field Generator really burn people?"
"The Geller Field is essentially a psychic membrane spread around a warship in the Warp. If it isn't burning Psykers, what else could it burn?"
Casually exposing the secret the T'au had always wanted to uncover, Romulus threw the corpse to the ground and pointed at its back.
On the skin damaged by a Bolter round, the symbol of the Chaos Star could still vaguely be seen.
"The Psyker inside the generator had been tampered with. There was a prearranged summoning ritual on his body. That was also why the Deathwatch guarding the field were ambushed and wiped out. I also checked the generator logs. They contain complete review records—there are bad people in the Adeptus Arbites and the Administratum."
"That isn't what we should be worrying about right now."
Arthur narrowed his eyes. His instincts told him that this ship itself might already be caught in a massive conspiracy.
"Our top priority is getting this ship out of the Warp."
Even after clearing out the enemies occupying the Geller Field, the ship's hull had already been torn apart. If they could not return to Realspace in time, then they could just wait to become a future Space Hulk dungeon.
Orks, Genestealers, Demons, mutated Imperium citizens, and Space Marines would surely give whoever boarded this ship in the future endless surprises.
"That's right. Survival remains our foremost goal."
Romulus agreed, then called out to the Canoness.
"Sister Arabella."
"I am here, my lord."
"My comrades and I will return to the Navigator Sanctum to ensure the ship can safely leave the Warp."
Romulus said solemnly, "Before then, I hope the Order of the Sacred Rose can take responsibility for guarding the Geller Field. The guards will assist you as well."
"We will not fail you, my lord."
"Sorry to trouble you."
After politely expressing his thanks, Romulus led Arthur back along the way they had come.
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