Doom Slayer

At the center of the explosion lay a massive circular crater. Not a trace remained of the Orks' bodies; farther out, there were only heaps of white bones. Their flesh and blood had been vaporized by the intense heat, leaving behind charred skeletons.

At the point of impact stood an artificial machine covered in unfamiliar runes.

The machine had already been damaged. A naked human infant lay on the ground, unafraid of the scorching heat, awakening from a deep sleep.

King Norwick took in everything before him. Something stirred in his heart when he looked at the infant; the Son of Heaven's Descent was surely extraordinary. The thought of raising the child to adulthood arose within him.

The High Priest had the same thought.

Ignoring all dignity and composure, Isaac tore off the hem of his priestly robe and rushed toward the infant in a few quick strides.

But someone was faster. King Norwick strode to the infant, tore off the cloak from his back, wrapped the child in it, and gently held him in his arms.

There was a little black hair on his head, and his dark eyes were like obsidian. His limbs were intact, and he was a plump, fair-skinned baby boy. When he was picked up, he observed everything before him with clear eyes.

King Norwick lowered his gaze, forcing a smile onto his weary face. The child in his arms was a healthy boy!

A mysterious rune mark was imprinted on the infant's chest, radiating waves of dim red light. The red glow seemed alive, pulsing along with the infant's breathing.

The infant's eyes were clear and flawless, distinctly reflecting King Norwick's exhausted face as he studied him with curiosity and contemplation.

When his gaze swept over him unconsciously, King Norwick's body tensed, and chills ran down his spine.

An indescribable sense of awe rose within him. It was the instinctive reaction embedded in the most primitive genes of lesser creatures when facing a higher existence—an inborn reverence forged through survival and evolution.

King Norwick's expression beneath his helmet turned ugly. His body stiffened as instinct and reason fought for control, and he subconsciously wanted to throw the infant in his arms away.

Suddenly, a tremendous force tugged at him. Looking down, he saw the infant's chubby little hand gripping the edge of his cloak and pulling it instinctively.

The instant their eyes met, Norwick's heart trembled.

The scrutiny and contemplation in the child's eyes seemed to be assessing whether the surroundings posed a threat.

Fighting against his body's instincts, Norwick panted heavily. His intuition told him that if he threw this child away now, he would definitely be torn to pieces.

This was no exaggeration. It was the instinct for life and death tempered through a warrior's countless bloody battles!

Suppressing the awe in his heart, Norwick defied his instincts and used all his strength to stiffly tighten his arms around the "human cub" in his embrace.

Only after he made the motion to protect him did the sense of danger slowly fade, and the child in his arms gradually fell asleep as well.

All of this happened in less than two seconds. Amid the chaos, few of the surrounding warriors noticed.

"What is it?" The swordmaster seemed to sense something. He instinctively tightened his grip on his twin swords and looked at the infant in King Norwick's arms.

Norwick silently shook his head without answering. Moving gently, he carefully extended his arms and raised the swaddled infant high.

Within the cloak, soaked through with blood, the human child slept peacefully, his fair and tender body resting amid crimson red.

At the sight of this, Isaac's face turned pale. In his panic, he fell to the ground, stretched out an arm as if trying to grasp something, and cried out in grief, fury, and unwillingness, "No!!!!!"

Amid the chaos and destruction, King Norwick shouted the name of the Son of Heaven's Descent:

"He descended from the heavens to bring destruction upon humanity's enemies. He proclaims his name to Nul: Doom!"

Ash and fire drifted down from the sky. Within the blazing crater, a king bestowed upon Du Mu the name of his new life.

The Night Watchers' boots struck the ground, trampling enemy bones as they cried out the Doom Slayer's name: "Doom! Doom! Doom!"

In an ancient Terra language, Doom represented destruction. This child, named by the warrior class, was destined to become a glorious warrior in the future—

Doom Slayer!

When the Doom Slayer descended, the Ork chieftain was reduced to ashes. Intimidated by the cries, the Orks fled in panic like headless flies.

Without command, the Orks were merely a disorganized rabble. Even in places untouched by the explosion, groups of Orks began attacking one another.

Amid the excited crowd, one person watched coldly. He lay sprawled on the ground like a lifeless corpse.

Isaac buried his face in the mud, his heart cold to the extreme. The present situation was completely different from the prophecy.

In the revelation shown by the gods, he was supposed to lift up that child, declare him the priest's son, then teach him to serve at the gods' side and study the secrets of occult knowledge.

Not like this—becoming a Night Watcher before the eyes of all, a warrior bound by law.

Fate had strayed from its original course. Reality had denied the prophecy, and the mission bestowed by the gods had lost its vessel.

"King Norwick." The High Priest rose from the filthy, bloody mud without a trace of grace.

Beneath his magnificent crown, his face was expressionless. He exerted psychic pressure, suppressing the cries of the Night Watchers.

His slender finger pointed at the infant in Norwick's arms. Ignoring King Norwick's majesty, he spoke almost as if issuing an order: "This child descended along with the revelation. He does not belong to you. You should hand him over to me."

His voice echoed through the crater, abruptly resounding in every warrior's ears. The piercing echo dispelled the joy of victory and laid bare the conflict between the warrior class and the priestly class without any concealment.

Ever since humanity colonized Nul and rapidly developed technology, humanity had survived even after the Machine Rebellion. After countless struggles and reorganizations, the government had ultimately stabilized in the hands of two classes.

The warrior class revered the Way of the Warrior, tempered their spirit and skills, imposed strict discipline upon themselves, chose to arm themselves with ancient weapons, and protected the people.

The priestly class worshipped the gods completely, unleashed their souls to explore magical knowledge, and used sorcery and incantations in their devotion to the gods.

The two major classes ruled most of humanity on Nul, governing the people within their respective spheres of influence. Over the past thousand years, countless battles of every scale had broken out between them because of their differing beliefs.

When the Greenskins besieged the city, the highest priest of the priestly city, the City of Truth, led a group of priests to Guardian Domain.

Before humanity's great enemy, King Norwick, ruler of Guardian Domain, set aside old grievances and welcomed them amicably, accepting their advice and assistance.

Some had even believed that if humanity was fortunate enough to defeat the Greenskins, the warriors and priests should sit down for serious talks, end their thousand-year conflict, and move toward a unified future.

But now, the High Priest clearly had no regard for the King of Warriors and was ordering a king about.

"High Priest Isaac, according to the Warrior Law of Guardian Domain..." King Norwick held the infant and took an imperceptible step back.

His retreat was by no means an act of yielding. Instead, it was a signal.

Xilan silently stepped in front of him. The surrounding Night Watchers did the same, instantly completing a formation shift as their weapons instinctively aimed at Isaac.

King Norwick said sternly, "On the battlefield, any object touched by the victor's hand is his spoils of war. No one else may interfere or demand it."

"This is our law, the foundation upon which we survive. If you want this infant, you may challenge me to a duel. If you defeat me, you may naturally take him away."

Isaac's expression darkened further. A cold light flickered in his eyes, and the corners of his mouth twitched with unusual anger.

He understood King Norwick's meaning perfectly. The King of Warriors had no intention of backing down and would never hand over the child.

On this planet, no one could defeat the King of Warriors. What was more, King Norwick was the youngest king in history.

After coming of age, he had inherited the throne, completed every trial as a warrior, challenged and defeated every legend, and become the "King of Warriors."

Tales of his strength were sung among every people of Nul. He was synonymous with invincibility, a symbol of strength and wisdom.

Challenge King Norwick? He could not do it—at least not now.

"The Orks have been defeated. To prevent them from returning, I will lead my people in pursuit."

In the end, the High Priest withdrew his psychic power and eased the tense atmosphere. He bent slightly in a gesture of respect, glanced at the child, and said meaningfully, "King of Warriors, we have a long road ahead of us."

"A long road..." King Norwick saw the unwillingness and malice in the High Priest's eyes. The venomous snake had withdrawn its fangs, returning to the shadows to wait for its chance. "...ahead of us."

The Night Watchers opened a path and watched the High Priest depart.

"Why not kill him? A venomous snake cowering in the shadows is more dangerous than a beast running across the wilderness."

The chief swordmaster narrowed his eyes and slightly raised his twin swords, staring at the High Priest's departing back. He could vaguely see twisted darkness gathering behind him.

"Killing Isaac would be easy. The class and people behind him are the real problem. They are resolute fanatics."

King Norwick's broad shoulders slumped from exhaustion. Turning to Xilan, he said, "Too much blood has already been shed in this battle. How much more blood must we spill fighting among ourselves?"

He looked again toward the towering, solemn white walls of Guardian Domain, then smiled and lowered his head to the chubby, fair-skinned boy in his arms. "The future has already arrived. A new king has descended from the heavens. I can feel that he possesses power."

"You intend to make him inherit the throne?" Xilan was so shocked that he nearly misspoke, his face full of confusion. "That does not comply with our law."

Raising a hand to stop the chief swordmaster, King Norwick spoke slowly. "The law deserves respect. It prevents us from repeating the mistakes of the past, but it is not immutable. Do not let its rigidity bind you. After all, unprecedented opportunities lie ahead of us."

He raised his head and gazed into the distance, his eyes crossing the scorched wilderness and seeing farther than anyone else.

His voice was deep as he looked forward to the future. "Isaac will not become our enemy for now. They are part of humanity. Humanity has a common enemy: the Greenskins."

"This child may very well achieve accomplishments no one before him has achieved. He will unite Nul, then ascend the throne."

Xilan slowly knelt, and the Night Watchers knelt with him in the scorching earth. Pressing their clenched left fists against their chests, they swore, "We shall follow your will unto death, great King Norwick."

"Doom Norwick!" The king raised the infant in his arms and proclaimed his status: a prince.