Standing before the vast viewport of the First Bridge, the Mage clasped his hands behind his back and gazed into the dark vacuum. They had only just left the Obscurus Sector, and after dozens of battles, the force had not suffered many losses, but the number of wounded had reached a new level.
Injuries were inevitable, even with the protection of armor. But no matter what, seeing the death rate pressed down to a relatively low level still made him rather pleased.
Lictor stood like a ghost in the shadows at his side, the Adeptus Custodes' back ramrod straight. A tremor passed through the ship, yet his body remained steady.
That tremor meant the Vengeance had just encountered a field of rubble. Their original name should have been "Reefs"; for ships that were not large enough, they were something that needed to be cleared with cannon fire or avoided entirely. But to the Vengeance, they were merely another form of fuel.
After absorbing them as fuel, the Vengeance began moving forward again. The Adeptus Custodes had thought this would be an ordinary day—the Mage spent a fixed period every day standing before the viewport to observe the stars outside. It looked as if he was simply passing the time, but Lictor believed there had to be something deeper hidden behind the behavior.
Just like now, he suddenly sensed a wave of pressure, and its source was the Mage. The Adeptus Custodes clenched his teeth and made no sound.
From his angle, the hem of the Mage's black robe was slowly dissolving. In this moment, he was no longer a human shape, but a surging storm of magical power and golden lightning. The terrifyingly pure image surpassed the limits of what human reason should be able to comprehend, yet Lictor was