Divine Emperor's Manifestation

"You may call me Rowan."

Rowan copied her gesture and, when in Rome, gave an Eagle Salute as well.

Following the principle of not touching code that still worked, since Lucia's attitude was so friendly, he did not complicate matters by explaining his origins.

After all, a transmigrator from an Alien Universe was the sort of setting that only a hodgepodge world like the Foundation could readily accept. In this universe, he would probably be understood as a Demon from the Warp. If she heard that and came at him with a leaping slash, that would be rather unpleasant.

"My apologies, Lord Rowan, but I'm afraid this isn't over."

Lucia clearly did not care about Rowan's origins. "These fallen Heretics are not all of our enemies. Another group has gone to the Bridge. Since we were deeply engaged in battle earlier, we were unable to stop them."

"By now, those Heretics may be close to accomplishing their unspeakable goal. As loyal servants of the Divine Emperor, we must go and stop them immediately!"

"That is precisely what I want."

Rowan nodded his agreement without hesitation.

However, he looked around at the Sisters' corpses lying on the ground, fell silent for a moment, then made a suggestion. "Still, should we gather up these Sisters' remains?"

Lucia, too, fell into hesitation.

As for Space Marines who worshipped Slaanesh—those who knew, knew. During the fierce battle earlier, some Chaos Astartes had disobeyed orders and left the main battlefield to seek their own pleasures elsewhere aboard the ship.

If wandering Slaanesh Astartes were to arrive at this battlefield, merely imagining what might happen next—the desecration the Sisters' bodies would suffer—filled Lucia with a loathing fury that surged from the depths of her heart.

"Then... please help gather our Sisters' remains and cremate them together."

After weighing her options, Lucia finally spoke. "I hope their souls may return to the Throne."

"No problem."

Rowan raised a hand and swept it through the air. All the Battle Sisters' remains in the hall were moved by invisible Psychic Power, floating into the air and slowly converging toward an open space.

The next moment, a promethium flamer flew out on its own, aimed at the open space, and unleashed roaring flames that engulfed the fallen.

Lucia's originally resolute face turned grief-stricken. Her hand tightly gripped the ever-hotter relic cross as she murmured Ecclesiarchy prayers under her breath.

Rowan's expression also turned solemn as he silently watched everything before him.

This Imperium was rotten, declining, on the verge of collapse, ignorant... yet even in such despair, bright sparks still shone. It was the sacrifices of such heroes that had sustained humanity through millennium after millennium in this dark Galaxy.

In the silent atmosphere, broken only by the faint crackle of the flames, an abrupt change occurred.

At some point, the originally crimson fire became streaked with threads of gold. It swiftly transformed into radiant molten gold, while the already blistering heat grew ever more intense and rolling heatwaves swept outward.

Most of the Sisters' bodies wrapped in molten-gold flames soon vanished into nothingness. Only sets of gleaming white bones remained, automatically assuming prayerful poses amid the blaze as a sacred aura spread through the air.

At the sight, Lucia could no longer contain herself. The grief she had forced down deep inside surged forth.

Clear tears streamed from her eyes as she silently dropped to her knees, the prayers from her lips growing louder and louder.

"No mistake about it. Big Gold One is definitely making trouble."

Watching this clearly abnormal scene, Rowan put a shield around himself to resist the rolling heatwaves and smiled in relief.

Then, he quickly reconsidered.

The Emperor might be human, but the Emperor being human was highly unlikely.

Given Big Gold One's usual habit of never acting without profit, Rowan—who had just suffered a loss—did not believe he would simply show a miracle and do nothing else. There had to be some purpose...

Wait.

Rowan turned his gaze toward Sister Superior Lucia, who was praying before the pyre.

At some point, her entire body had also been bathed in the Golden Flame alongside the Sisters' remains. The molten-gold light and heat directly melted her armor, while her skin blackened and cracked, making her resemble a charred corpse.

Even while suffering such inhuman agony, Lucia maintained her posture of prayer, the hymn from her mouth growing ever louder.

Holy shit, a Living Saint!

Rowan's eye twitched.

Living Saints, also known as Greater E-Demons (crossed out), held an extraordinary position within the Imperium and were proof of the Emperor's divine power. They were so rare that one was scarcely seen even across the entire Galaxy. They could not be corrupted by Warp evils, and under the Emperor's blessing, they could wield all manner of miracles to destroy the Enemy of Mankind.

However, Living Saints did not simply appear at will. Especially before the Great Rift had opened, that stubborn fellow on the Golden Throne could not easily interfere with the timelines of the real world.

Watching Lucia struggle to endure within the holy flames, Rowan shook his head with some regret.

According to Ecclesiarchy propaganda, a Living Saint possessed every virtue of humanity, including but not limited to compassion, sinlessness, purity, incorruptibility, tolerance, constant vigilance, mercy toward the weak, and absolute mercilessness toward the guilty, and so on.

But in Rowan's view, while those were indeed important qualities, they could not compare to the most important one:

—She needed sufficient compatibility with the Emperor's psychic power.

Clearly, Lucia was not fortunate enough to possess such rare aptitude.

It was obvious that if Rowan did not intervene soon, her entire body would be reduced to ashes by this violent psychic force, much like the Perfect City, Calth, and the Thousand Sons' Rubric Marines.

Rowan considered it for a moment before quickly making his decision.

He still had to save her if he could. A Living Saint would be an obvious boon to his safety, and since he had arrived in this universe without any reasonable identity, having a Living Saint vouch for him would mean he would not need to worry about that problem.

"But I'm only Level Two right now. The reality distortion I create cannot endure for long against such violent psychic power..."

["Wait, I have a way."]

Having made his decision, Rowan reached out. His hand passed straight through the flames and settled on Lucia's shoulder.

His eyes turned blank. Sound, smell, touch, color... most of his senses vanished, leaving behind only emptiness.

Yet within that emptiness, from the perspective of a Reality Warper, Rowan could perceive one [field] after another, each with differing intensity, covering every part of the space he could sense.

Or, to describe it more accurately using Foundation terminology.

—[Reality Strength].