"Hey!"
"Report in. How are things over there?"
"Sir! They've all headed your way—those Motorcycle Units!"
"All of them!"
"Looks like the Sulfa people really weren't lying!"
Kasgar looked back at the countless black specks roaring behind him and gave orders through the communicator.
"Avoid the main Sulfa force ahead. Use the tactics I taught you to kite them. Get the refugees into Karax Fortress first. Don't worry about me."
"Sir, we can get away, but you—"
"I'll say it again. Don't worry about me!"
Kasgar forcefully stressed the words into the communicator, then turned a grave expression toward the two children in his arms.
Abandoning the children in exchange for the survival of the main force did seem like the optimal choice.
But he had promised Fulgrim, and every Karax citizen, that he would bring every refugee safely to their destination.
If even such a promise had to be haggled over, how could Kasgar join the Third Legion and become an example to everyone?
How could he speak of perfection?
Besides.
These two children were far less ordinary than they appeared.
Kasgar's masterwork motorcycle was far faster than the Sulfa people's heaps of scrap. Shaking off the pursuit was no difficult task for him.
"Come on, fasten this strap around yourselves. Yes, like that."
He lowered his head and spoke softly to the two children.
Once the children had been secured to him, his hands were finally free to leave those black dots farther and farther behind.
"Big Brother Kasgar, this bike is so, so fast."
"Fast?"
Kasgar smiled.
Amid Corleon's giggling cries of surprise, the motorcycle accelerated once again.
"Once you get to ride a starship, it can go even faster!"
"Starships are faster than this?"
"Of course!"
The sky was clear, and the desert stretched endlessly.
The wind howled as the scenery flashed past his eyes.
Riding alone into the wild, his heart felt open and free.
He was beginning to understand Khan.
Speeding was exhilarating!
But even in such a wonderful moment, there were always filthy things that had to come out and ruin the mood.
Kasgar spotted scattered Sulfa people closing in from the front left.
"Children, close your eyes for a moment."
He drew his blade.
"Prophet! That bastard took what we need and ran! We can't catch him at all!"
"There is no need to panic."
"If the lost lamb has gone far away, one day it shall return to us."
"Then what do we do? Just wait here?"
The Prophet nodded and said no more.
Corleon was very obedient.
He only felt the vehicle beneath him suddenly veer.
Then warm liquid, accompanied by curses, splashed onto his head.
After that came a muffled explosion from behind.
"Alright, you can open your eyes now."
Kasgar wiped the blood from his face.
According to the motorcycle's built-in detector, that had been the last pursuer in the area.
There were now no pursuers within a kilometer behind him. He had successfully escaped the Sulfa people's encirclement.
All he needed to do next was take a slight detour back to Karax Fortress, and his escape would be complete.
That should have been the case.
If not for the suddenly forming sandstorm in the distance ahead.
Impossible.
This was absolutely impossible.
Kasgar's spirits plunged to rock bottom.
There was no way Fulgrim's weather assessment could have been so catastrophically wrong.
There could be no waves without wind.
With the skies so clear, without strong winds or thermal convection, how could a sandstorm rise out of nowhere?
Not to mention that Chemos's sandstorms were far more terrifying than ordinary ones.
The "sand" here was not merely sand.
The toxic substances and metal fragments littering Chemos's surface would be swept up by the storm. Its destructive power could reduce a person to bones within seconds.
Charging directly into the sandstorm meant certain death.
Without question, he could only turn back.
Return the way he had come.
"Children, close your eyes again."
Watching the numerous Motorcycle Units draw closer, Kasgar holstered his Ignition pistol and drew the sword he had just sheathed.
The situation was not looking good.
He had to conserve ammunition.
The distant sandstorm was worsening, while the Sulfa people's reinforcements were gradually catching up—
He had to end this quickly!
He stomped on the accelerator. Amid the children's startled cries, he sped straight toward the Sulfa people's encirclement.
"By the grace of our lord, the lost dream shall soon manifest in this world."
"We are both Those Chosen and the Abandoned of Him. If He watches us, He shall surely grant us joy; if He abandons us, then even honey shall bring not the slightest pleasure. His transformations are but dreams, illusions, dew, and lightning. Thus should we perceive them—"
The Prophet began muttering again.
"Ah!!!"
Suddenly, she let out a piercing scream. Countless traces of frost condensed around her, while innumerable ripples beyond reality tore at her body.
"Prophet?"
Everyone froze in place, unsure of what to do.
".By the grace of our lord, the lost dream shall finally manifest in this world. By the grace of our lord, the lost dream shall finally manifest in this world. By the grace of our lord, the lost dream shall finally manifest in this world."
Layer upon layer, voices of endless dreams and nothingness echoed in their ears.
"Prophet, stop chanting! You're driving our people insane!"
The leader covered his ears and roared.
What he did not know was that their Prophet, shamans, and Oracles—
Had never spoken a single word.
Kasgar had a bad feeling.
After successfully cutting down another Sulfa rider who had approached him, he drew his Ignition pistol again.
He aimed it at the largest Armored Vehicle pursuing behind him—the one that looked the most like a Greenskin and was covered in the most scrap.
To capture bandits, first capture their leader!
If he killed the Sulfa leader here, these scavengers would scatter like birds and beasts!
With that in mind, he aimed his gun at the Armored Vehicle's rapidly spinning tires.
Buzz!
A hit!
Kasgar inwardly praised himself.
During all his years of training under Fulgrim, he had never neglected his marksmanship alongside his swordsmanship.
Even while speeding along at high velocity, Kasgar was confident he could hit his target.
His confidence was not without reason.
The Ignition beam had indeed been headed for the Armored Vehicle's vulnerable tire.
But at the very instant it was about to strike, a transparent curtain of light suddenly appeared before the vehicle and completely dissolved the beam.
Damn it!
These scavengers actually had a Wizard among them!
Wizards were also known as Psykers.
Such people possessed an innate talent for Warp sorcery. They could use the energy of the Warp to create Force Shields, fire lightning or flames, manipulate objects, and control minds. Powerful Psykers could even destroy an entire star.
They were exceptionally troublesome opponents.
Better get out of here first!
Seeing that his attack had failed to achieve the intended result, Kasgar quickly turned around, preparing to circle back and fight again.
But just as he was about to step on the accelerator, the motorcycle suddenly slowed.
It was as though an invisible crushing weight had nailed him firmly to the ground!
"Damn it, move—ah!"
Kasgar desperately slammed down on the accelerator, but the motorcycle that had once raced like the wind could now only "crawl" along at an incredibly sluggish pace!
The Wizard's Psychic Power gravity field had crushed both him and the motorcycle against the ground!
Kasgar possessed not the slightest Psychic Power talent. Against such powerful Warp sorcery, he had no ability to resist at all.
With such a perfect opportunity before them, the enemy naturally would not give up the chase.
The Prophet poked her head out from the Armored Vehicle's roof hatch in an eerie, puppet-like motion, muttering under her breath.
Moments later, a bolt of lightning brimming with blasphemous energy, radiating bizarre rainbow-colored Guanghua, stabbed toward him as he slowed!
This was bad.
Faced with the rapidly approaching Psychic Lightning, Kasgar could not dodge. He could only instinctively curse inwardly.
Just as despair was about to consume him, an extremely tiny spark of gold and crimson—almost invisible to the naked eye—began burning at his brow, before even he noticed it.
Before you continue