What had been would be again.
What had been done would be done again.
—Ecclesiastes 1:9.
"You are being eaten away."
Slaanesh's laughter was crisp, without the slightest malice, even as pure as a child's. But Its words were not.
They were filled with malice and intertwined desire. It did not hide Itself, never hid Itself. The god loyal to desire had always been utterly candid before him—indulgence was Its nature, and so was lying, but at this moment It only wanted to savor beautiful tastes one by one.
These were delights It had never experienced in the past, exquisite pleasures It had saved until this day. The wait had been worth it.
"It got there first. The feeling of having someone else take the first time of such a beloved thing right in front of me is truly peculiar. But I can resolve this matter. You only need to give me a tiny little return. How about it?"
". Get lost," the Mage said with difficulty through gritted teeth.
He had suffered all kinds of injuries, and had endured many pains that surpassed the limits of humanity—such as the time he had purged Nurgle's blessing. With his willpower, there should no longer have been any pain capable of making him uncomfortable.
But this time was different.
All power was a double-edged sword. If one took it up, one inevitably had to pay a price. His price was now showing itself.
Drach'nyen's curse was continuously devouring his power. Although, compared to the total amount, what the curse had swallowed so far was no more than a drop in the bucket, its speed was unimaginably fast.
No living being could withstand such agony. In truth, this had already exceeded the category that "pain" could describe and reached an entirely new