The Power of Faith

Rowan was still on the Strike Cruiser's Bridge, naturally unaware that the Emperor had manifested on a scale vast enough to cover almost the entire Imperium of Man.

If he had known beforehand, he would certainly have been on his guard. After all, he'd already learned firsthand how the Big Gold One operated—like someone who didn't care about being human.

Unfortunately, a Strike Cruiser belonging to a Chaos War Band that worshipped Slaanesh might have all kinds of facilities aboard, but one thing it definitely wouldn't have was an Ecclesiarchy chapel.

"Lord Rowan, the back of your hand... Why is it glowing?"

Sibyl's puzzled voice pulled Rowan out of his thoughts.

He'd been trying to recall memories from his previous life, hoping to find clues about Warp Minor Gods and C'tan Shards, and figure out the best way to break through and open up the path to his next advancement.

"What's going on?"

Rowan raised his arm and looked closely.

A golden double-headed eagle was clearly visible in his field of vision, shining on the back of his hand and casting a gentle light all around it.

Wait, wasn't that the mark the Emperor had left behind before tricking him into this universe?

"Oh no!"

Rowan's vision went black.

What kind of crazy stunt are you pulling this time, Big Gold One?

The others on the Bridge, however, couldn't understand how Rowan felt. They gazed at the miracle before them with utter reverence.

It was as if a golden sun had abruptly risen. Streaks of Flowing Light streamed from Rowan's hand, winding around his body and slowly lifting him high into the air.

Then, a dazzling light too brilliant to look at erupted. Its warm radiance cleanly purified everything around it, driving out the nauseating stench that had infested the Chaos-corrupted ship.

Wherever the light passed, the abnormal alloy hull—once a fusion of flesh and steel—gradually returned to its original form. The blasphemous "artworks" arranged throughout the rooms spontaneously caught fire, then turned to ash.

So that was it.

Using his Reality Warper's senses, Rowan probed the phenomenon a little and quickly arrived at an answer.

This was something extremely common in the universe.

—The Power of Faith.

In this universe, faith wasn't mere superstition. It was a force with definite, tangible power. For example, the worship of vast numbers of humans over a long period could be strong enough to create new gods in the Warp.

The problem was, this power couldn't increase his Reality Strength. And even when it produced its usual effects, it was basically useless to someone like Rowan, an "insulator" with no Warp projection at all.

What was he up to now?

Rowan couldn't help muttering to himself.

But soon, he realized what was happening and smiled in understanding.

"All right. That's just like you!"

To the Emperor, whom countless people across the Galaxy revered as a god, the faith gathered upon the Golden Throne was an astronomical quantity, beyond all imagining.

If the Power of Faith was so convenient and useful, then why didn't the Emperor use it more often?

Because the Power of Faith came with a small side effect.

Under the ceaseless onslaught of the countless, endlessly varied beliefs and thoughts of humanity, the Emperor's own will became the least important part.

After all, the image of the Emperor held by billions differed in every aspect, from his powers to the smallest details. Sometimes, people couldn't even agree on something as simple as "how many arms does the Emperor have?"

The clearest result was that the Emperor on the Throne was often in a state akin to multiple personalities, babbling incoherently and thinking in a muddle, unable to interfere with reality of his own accord.

From this, Rowan naturally understood what the Emperor was planning.

He was using the Reality Warper's abilities to completely annihilate and dispel the jumbled Power of Faith, so the Emperor's own mind could recover somewhat.

In short, he got to enjoy the benefits of faith without suffering its drawbacks.

The Emperor was basically getting it all for free.

But that raised a question: if he was going to freeload off the Power of Faith, why was he freeloading off Rowan too?

Without hesitation, Rowan activated his Reality Warping Ability. A wave of invisible information took shape and traveled through the golden eagle mark, transmitting directly to the Emperor.

You've got me doing your work, using me as a shredder. The least you can do is give me something in return, right?

The Emperor said nothing. He just kept sending the Power of Faith.

Rowan's fists clenched.

"...Don't play dead. You're Neos from Terra, aren't you? You wouldn't want me to use my Reality Warping Ability to erase the mark you left behind—and then refuse to help you build your Imperium, would you?"

Almost as soon as the threatening message went out, the eagle mark responded.

What came next was no longer the rather jumbled Power of Faith, but a vast and mighty psychic force from the Emperor himself.

"That's more like it. The Big Gold One's still got it in him to listen to a little plain speaking."

With the Emperor's psychic power—refined over ten thousand years by a vast sea of faith—now at his disposal, Rowan immediately began to think.

Under the awed gazes of the three people below, the dazzling Flowing Light around Rowan gradually spread, then condensed into shimmering particles.

Using the Emperor's psychic power as its core, human faith as its material, and Rowan's own Reality Warping Ability to shape it, an abnormal substance flew before him at his command. It gathered, took shape, and finally formed a long silver-white sword.

Its blade was pure white and razor-sharp, its hilt made of black crystal, and its guard shaped like the Imperium's golden double-headed eagle.

All three of them held their breath.

They could sense the terrifying power within the sword just by looking at it.

Rowan slowly descended to the ground and gestured. The silver-white sword pointed down as it floated in the air, circling slowly at his side.

"What is that?"

Lucia's eyes widened. "I can feel a strong sense of holiness from it."

"...You could think of it as a weapon made from both the Emperor's power and my own."

Rowan spoke as he stepped forward. "It bears the Emperor's power, so it's an extension of him. It can do certain things that I can't do yet."

As he spoke, he walked on.

The air seemed to turn into solid ground. Rowan climbed as if walking up a flight of stairs, soon reaching his destination.

There, a massive iron throne stood in silence: the Captain's Throne.

It was a device found on most human voidships. It connected the captain's soul to the Machine Spirit of the entire vessel, allowing him to command and control the ship.

But the Machine Spirit of this Strike Cruiser had long since been corrupted by Chaos sorcery. An ordinary person who tried to connect to it would likely be twisted on the spot into a fanatical worshipper of the Lord of Pleasure.

With Rowan's Reality Warping Ability as it was now, personally purifying it would probably take a long time. But with the Emperor's holy sword in hand, the outcome was entirely different.

He raised the holy sword high and plunged it forcefully into the Captain's Throne.