Living Saint

Imagine a normal world without any Reality Warpers. Everything in that world would be orderly, knowable, and objective. All the familiar laws would function within their applicable domains, rather than changing because of a single thought from some anomaly.

If one extracted the common qualities shared by all things within it, they would form the meaning of reality—perhaps even its only meaning: objective existence.

To measure the degree of an object's objective existence, Foundation Universe researchers created a physical quantity known as [Reality Strength].

The unusual gift possessed by Reality Warpers was the ability to make the matter under their control generate a Reality Strength field. (Note)

Furthermore, the Reality Strength of their bodies was often higher than baseline reality's, while the Reality Strength of their surroundings was often lower. The greater the difference between the two, the stronger the Reality Warper's abilities.

What Rowan needed to do now was directly allocate and transfer a portion of his own Reality Strength to Lucia, transforming her into an entirely new Reality Warper!

A minute later.

"That should be about enough..."

Rowan estimated Lucia's Reality Strength and found that she had successfully reached the standard of a Level One Reality Warper, so he immediately stopped the transfer.

A Reality Warper's thoughts could influence reality, even at the weakest Level One. For someone like Lucia, whose will was strong enough to endure the Living Saint's ascension for so long, this much help was already more than enough.

Unfortunately, to transform Lucia, all the growth progress Rowan had gained from killing those Chaos Space Marines had been completely used up. If he wanted to continue advancing afterward, he would need to start over.

Rowan did not care in the slightest. That number of souls would be difficult to obtain in the Foundation Universe, but in Warhammer, it was hardly anything. He could make it up simply by finding some Hive City world in the midst of a rebellion.

Compared to that, gaining a Living Saint guard with healing, resurrection, morale-boosting, and other abilities was far more important to Rowan, whose true body was currently extremely fragile.

The golden flames gradually faded. One silver-white skeleton after another crumbled into dust, and Lucia, who had been kneeling on the ground, finally opened her eyes.

As though by divine miracle, Lucia's charred skin peeled away, revealing an uninjured body beneath. Glowing white hair rapidly grew out, and a faint golden halo appeared above her head.

A pair of pure white wings suddenly spread from her back. With a beat of them, Lucia flew toward the ceiling and hovered in midair.

Rowan looked up and met her gaze, her pupils radiating golden brilliance.

Honestly, he had to admit that Old Gold had excellent taste.

Lucia slowly descended, stopping before Rowan. She dropped to one knee, her voice calm and powerful.

"Lord Rowan, by the will of the Divine Emperor, I shall become the blade in your hand and swear to protect you to the death in this dark Galaxy."

"You mean, the Divine Emperor's will?"

Rowan was somewhat surprised. "Did that old... old man Emperor tell you anything?"

"He told me to do everything in my power to ensure your safety, because you are His Contractor, the star of hope in the endless night, humanity's savior, an unparalleled treasure, the terminator of endless suffering..."

Before the solemn-faced Lucia could finish, Rowan repeatedly waved his hands and interrupted her.

"...That's enough. No need to continue."

This was ridiculous. Big Gold One had learned how to read the room!

How come he had not been this emotionally intelligent during the Great Crusade ten thousand years ago?

Then again, it made sense. After sitting on one of the Galaxy's foremost torture devices for ten thousand years, he had finally spotted a chance to get off work. Such a reaction was only natural.

"Did he say anything about the arrangements going forward?"

Rowan asked curiously.

Clearly, the Emperor's current condition was vastly better than his original state of babbling schizophrenically. He could even issue relatively clear instructions.

"No. His meaning was that you may decide your next course of action yourself, so long as it remains within the scope of the contract."

Lucia shook her head.

"However, I can sense two loyal survivors still on the Bridge. If we hurry over and save them, they should be of help in your next actions."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Rowan made his decision immediately.

It was obvious enough: any resisters who had survived an attack by Chaos Space Marines could not possibly be ordinary people.

At that moment, on the Bridge.

A fierce battle was underway.

"Bang bang bang bang bang!"

That was the sound of Bolters pouring their fury upon the Enemy of Mankind.

"Boom boom boom!"

That was the sound of the Traitors returning the favor with grenades.

"Crackle..."

In the end, all gunfire and explosions were silenced by Psy-lightning that streaked through the air like countless leaping silver serpents.

The Chaos Space Marines retreated. Though only temporarily, it still gave the last two loyalists on the Bridge a rare chance to catch their breath.

The dazzling blue psychic glow in Sibyl's eyes slowly faded. She drew a heavy breath, easing the mental strain brought on by the sustained use of her psychic powers.

A pitch-black Bolter barrel extended from beside her and pressed against her forehead.

"How is it? Can you still hold on?"

Sibyl showed no reaction, nor any sign of anger. She merely said calmly:

"...There is no need. The death destined for me is not yet upon me. The Emperor still needs me to fulfill my duty."

She fully understood the reaction of her temporary companion.

Psykers had always occupied an extremely delicate position within the Imperium. Nearly every Imperial institution—including the Adeptus Astronomica, the Inquisition, the Imperial Navy, the Astra Militarum, and the Adeptus Astartes Chapters—had Psykers among their ranks.

However, because Psykers were directly connected to the Warp, most of them suffered from some degree of mental illness. Worse still, every Psyker's Warp projection appeared like a shining beacon to Warp Demons, making them highly likely to become gateways through which Demons could invade reality. One careless mistake could unleash immense destruction.

Judging by Sibyl's performance just now—using her psychic power to forcibly repel the charge of more than a dozen Chaos Astartes—if her mind were to collapse and she became a Warp Rift, it might be enough to allow certain Greater Demons to descend into reality!

She turned her head and looked at her temporary companion.

He was a man over three meters tall, clad entirely in black robes. Even after an intense battle, after single-handedly killing more than a dozen Chaos Astartes and cutting down a Chaos company commander, his breathing remained steady and unhurried.