When Miriael recovered her balance and looked up,
this was the sight that met her eyes.
Behind Living Saint Lucia spread a pair of pure white wings that brought angels to mind. Yet her face was twisted with fury, and her body was wreathed in holy flames that would wound a Warp Demon simply by looking at them.
At Lucia's side, just a fraction of a moment behind her, charged another warrior of the Adeptus Custodes, fully encased in ornate, golden Wraithbone Terminator Armor. Intricate patterns of glory covered his Power Armor, and his charge carried an incredible sharpness.
"Good... good..."
Miriael murmured, almost entranced.
To be fighting such rare and powerful opponents—to experience this kind of "pleasure"—filled her with rapturous delight!
The shockwave from their charge swept through the Bridge, whipping up a gale.
In the next instant, Lucia reached striking distance first. Her Power Armor-clad foot slammed against the Ceramite floor, and amid a piercing metallic crash, she raised her holy Storm Shield high, its momentum like a storm of wind and thunder.
The strike was incredibly fast. An ordinary Space Marine would have had no chance to react, but for Miriael—a Daemon Prince and Chaos champion who had once offered Lord of Pleasure the head of a Khorne Greater Daemon—it was far from enough.
Boom!
A tremendous wave of sound spread out, strong enough to burst an ordinary person's eardrums. Miriael's Pain Sword halted the holy Storm Shield dead in its tracks, stopping it from advancing another inch.
Without hesitation, Lucia threw all her strength into it. Even the Power Armor's drive system groaned under the strain. Then she lunged forward with all her might!
Even if the thing in front of her had been a Leman Russ Tank, that impact would undoubtedly have shoved it aside—perhaps even sent it flying!
No!
There was no sensation of pushing against anything. Lucia's balance suddenly gave way.
She'd dodged!
Miriael seemed to vanish from the spot. Light on her feet, she sprang into an elegant dance, tracing a perfect arc to evade the charge.
Excitement glittered in her eyes as she brought the Pain Sword down hard toward Lucia's flawless, pure cheek.
At the last possible moment, Lucia reacted. She twisted her body at an almost impossible angle and beat her wings, using the spin to swing her Storm Shield around and block the blow.
Miriael looked thoughtful, as though she'd noticed something. But before she could consider it further, the Custodian with the power spear was already upon her.
The blade, its bright blue Decomposition Field shimmering, swept out without hesitation, aimed precisely at her arm joint.
At the same time, the roar of a Chainsword drew rapidly closer from the other side. Their coordinated assault drove Miriael into a perilous position.
Across the Galaxy, few warriors could withstand a combined attack by a Living Saint and a Blade Champion of the Adeptus Custodes.
But Miriael was one of them.
The Slaaneshi Daemon Prince danced with light steps at an unimaginable speed. She dodged back and forth through the storm of Chainsword and Guardian Spear strikes, weaving a dense web of blades around herself and launching counterattacks whenever she could.
The three figures clashed at once. The patter of their feet, the clash of blades, the air's explosive cracks, and the roar of bolter fire blended into a ceaseless din.
At last, after a fight that seemed fleeting to ordinary people but felt long to the powerful, the three figures sprang apart and took up positions on either side.
Miriael still carried herself with effortless grace. Aside from the wound inflicted by the Plasma blast earlier, her armor of rapture bore no new marks.
Lucia and Leonardo, despite their advantage in numbers, were covered in fresh wounds. They panted hard, their condition far from good.
A faint red mark had appeared on Lucia's cheek. Her Storm Shield was covered in fine scratches, and the hand gripping it trembled slightly.
Leonardo looked worse. His Alarius Terminator Armor was riddled with wounds of all sizes, and even the heavy armor on his left shoulder bore a shocking crack. It was on the verge of breaking apart.
"Heh. You're not as troublesome as I'd imagined."
Miriael giggled, her voice brimming with irrepressible delight.
She turned to Lucia first. "As for my 'former sister' here, I take it the Corpse Emperor only raised you to Living Saint recently? The Accursed clearly favors you, but your fighting techniques and physical abilities are terribly mismatched. You're still relying on all your old habits in combat. You're full of openings."
"And you, Custodian—your technique is passable, but you're not nearly strong enough. Several times, you couldn't keep up with my dance. You survived only thanks to a few predictions and a bit of luck."
"Against opponents with such obvious weaknesses, defeating you is a piece of cake."
Miriael flourished her Pain Sword, her voice full of laughter. "Defeating a Living Saint and then killing a Custodian—I'll be able to please Lord of Pleasure all over again."
As she finished speaking, Miriael looked enraptured and used an ability shared by all Slaaneshi Daemons, carefully sensing the emotions in her opponents' hearts.
"Hate me. Fear me. Be angry..."
To a Slaaneshi Daemon, such intense emotions were the finest food and the most exquisite delicacy. They filled her with pleasure.
"Oh? How can this be?"
Miriael suddenly sensed that something was wrong.
Why were the two enemies in front of her still so calm?
"Damn. This is irritating."
She muttered, her voice edged with frustration.
At that moment, within the squad's psychic link,
Leonardo: "Lord Rowan, how's it going?"
Rowan: "Looks like the original plan failed, but it doesn't matter. This was part of the plan too. Keep her occupied."
He was still standing in front of the door, making no move to join Lucia and the others in the fight.
Rowan knew his own limits. He was a Reality Warper who already feared close combat, with a body no stronger than an ordinary person's. If he recklessly joined a high-speed battle of this caliber, he would only hold everyone else back.
Earlier, while Miriael was occupied, he had remained at a distance and continuously used his Reality Warping Ability, trying to interfere directly with the Slaaneshi Daemon Prince's body.
For example, he tried to use Reality Warping to shatter her body or create a few powerful explosives inside her.
Even if the results were poor, he had to make the fallen Sister reveal an opening in the middle of the fight—one they couldn't afford to ignore.
But things hadn't gone as hoped.
Vast quantities of Akiva Radiation radiated from the Daemon Prince. In Foundation terminology, she would probably be classified as "Black Type."
Black Type referred to entities connected to the Supreme Multiversal Entity (a Foundation term that could be understood simply as a god).
As Slaanesh's favorite, Miriael was feared by all sentient beings across the Galaxy and worshipped by every cult devoted to the Lord of Pleasure. The blessings directly tied to Slaanesh, along with the layers of Power of Faith, were more than enough to render Rowan—a mere Level 2 Reality Warper—powerless.
"Still, it's a good thing I saw this coming."
Rowan turned to look beside him.
Inquisitor Sibyl, who had been standing next to him, had vanished without a trace. She was nowhere to be seen.
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