Interlude 27: Aurelian's Son

Angron Tei had lost count of how many believers he had killed, but it didn't matter; he was too lazy to keep track anyway.

He wielded the sword, blood and flesh flying everywhere, yet not a single drop of blood fell to the ground through the blade; all the blood was swallowed up. The sword that Laerhe provided was as ominous as the sword itself.

He had been killing for at least six hours, and the believers showed no sign of backing down. The Word Bearers was familiar with the fanaticism in their eyes; for these people, being killed by him was probably a blessing.

Otherwise, there's no way to explain why they would come to their deaths while laughing and praying. Angron didn't like this feeling, but unfortunately, whether he liked it or not didn't stop his followers from continuing to die.

After all, they have a "faith".

"They'll drown you," the shadow of Laerhe whispered in his heart. "You have no armor, you're cold and hungry, all alone. But you have me, my comrade, you should thank me for that."

"First, I'm neither cold nor hungry," Angron Tei replied during a lull in the fighting. "Second, I will thank you, but not now. How far am I from them?"

"Soon, if they're neither dead nor insane. You've been sleeping too long, buddy." Laerhe replaced a serious reply with a cold, snickering laugh.

This should have been frustrating, but the Word Bearers remained unusually patient with it, even though he had no idea what Laerhe was.

He continued to wield his sword, cleaving five or six crazed followers who charged at him in two. Blood splattered, but the shadow on the blade surged and devoured them all. He went on, killing as he went, standing firm like a reef in the sea of people.

"They really will drown you." Laerhe continued, his voice soft and damp, like the sticky mist of blood.

Look at their numbers, their companions, at least one world. You are at war with an entire world, though they harbor no hostility towards you, and even if you kill them, they will die with joy. But you will kill until your hands are sore.

"I won't," Angron Thai replied coldly. "At least not until I find my brother, and then they will take my place in the killing. These people don't deserve to stand on the ruins of the Perfect City."

Your statement is interesting; aren't these people like you?

"If it were in a different place--"

Angron Tei stretched out his left hand, clenched his fist, and broke the neck of a believer, then grabbed him and threw him away, clearing a path for himself.

"--I would be happy to answer that question for you, but I'm very busy right now, Laerhe."

So, do you need more help?

As these words were whispered by the shadows in a soft, blood-soaked tone, the world before Angron Tei's eyes slowed down.

The pain surging up the back of his neck was no longer a gentle nibble, but a truly excruciating agony. Something was wandering deep within his bone marrow; the pain was so intense, but the rewards were equally astonishing.

The believers' movements were already incredibly slow in his eyes, but now they were almost motionless Stone Statue. Angron Tei instinctively swung his sword, and the shadow instantly swelled up, the original blade transforming into bizarre, tentacle-like creatures.

All the believers it passed through were instantly dismembered, and Angron Tey couldn't even see how it did it. Then, the world before him returned to normal, and the blood rained down, greedily licked away by the shadows.

A burst of wild laughter erupted from the depths of Angron Tey's heart, unprecedented and as if his true nature had been unleashed. The Word Bearers fell silent, but ultimately ran toward the cleared path.

He had no choice; he had to get to the others as quickly as possible.

All you need to do is agree, partner.

Something called Laerhe whispered in his mind, with a snicker, with the echo of a desire that had been fulfilled.

How about it? This is an absolutely worthwhile deal for you; you'll get the help you need.

"And what about you?" Angron Tei asked silently between runs. "What will you get?"

The shadow responded with another burst of maniacal laughter, and after a while, it spoke again.

So, you refused?

"At least I won't agree now."

Angron Tai ran up a mound and then leaped down, using a method of movement even faster than running. He knew this place so well that even in ruins, he could clearly identify which path to take.

After all, unlike most Word Bearers, he had also wandered through the ruins of the Perfect City.

He looked up at a greyish-white spire not far away. If Laerhe hadn't Deceit him, then both the "Anchorite" and Batusa Narek were in that spire.

But why?

Deep in his heart, that whisper, tinged with the scent of blood and damp warmth, echoed once more, "Your refusal is truly unwise, my friend. You need me; are you going to deny that?"

My father, Lorgar Aurelian, once said, "Beware of those who appear when you need help most; their true nature may be utterly despicable."

"But I'm not human." The shadow laughed again. "Do you know what I am, buddy?"

"I don't want to know for now," Angron Te replied casually.

"Is that so?" Laerhe sighed softly. "What a pity."

It finally fell silent, and Angron -Tay enjoyed a moment of peace.

He ran across ruins and plains covered in thick ash, followed by huge hordes of fervent believers. Even when they stumbled, were trampled, or caused a bloody chain reaction, they showed no intention of stopping.

Moreover, many believers ahead of him, having heard the commotion, tried to intercept him—their aim was not to stop him, but to make him kill them.

Angron Teinen felt his teeth itch, and a surge of hatred welled up from the bottom of his heart. If he could, he would want to make the instigator die a horrible death.

Oh, your hatred.

Laerhe broke his silence thoughtfully, his voice peculiar, unlike his previous fervor or longing. This time, it sounded remarkably quiet.

"What's wrong with my hatred?" Angron Te asked.

+So delicious. I tasted so many flavors: resentment, regret, anger. Ah, my friend, are you sure you don't need more help? We'll get along very well.+

"No," Angron Te said politely. "I fucking thank you, now please be quiet, I need to be with these people—"

He took a deep breath, lowered his shoulders, and forcefully knocked over the dozen or so people who had formed a human wall in front of him. The sounds of bones breaking and screams filled the air, but even more noticeable was the frenzied chanting of scriptures.

The Word Bearers gritted his teeth and scrambled to his feet without pausing for a moment, fearing that an arm would grab his ankle or something else. He began to run, continuing toward the distant spire.

What are you going to do to them?

Can you please be quiet?

+I really want to, partner, but I have to say more. I'll soon have to remain silent again; he doesn't like me talking to him. It's a shame we could have gotten to know each other much better, but your hatred just now was so delicious that I couldn't resist taking a taste.+

"What? Who?" Angron Tei asked immediately, ignoring Laerhe's strange remarks.

+ Vengeance and hatred+ The shadow answered in a low voice, its tone like chanting.

At the same time, a thunderclap suddenly rang out, creating large swaths of dark clouds in the gray-white sky of the Perfect City. Accompanying the thunder, a chill emanated from Angron Tai's hand.

He immediately looked down at his right hand and discovered that the blade formed from the shadow was emitting a cold blue light. He immediately began to ask Laerhe what was going on, but this time the usually responsive voice remained silent.

A whisper, deeper and more frenzied than thunder, began to echo in his ears. The next second, accompanied by a psychic Radiance, a person abruptly emerged from the surging, wave-like air and landed in front of him.

Angron Tai stopped abruptly. Before he could speak, he saw the man raise his right hand. A series of psionic lightning bolts descended from the dark clouds in an instant, turning everyone following Angron Tai into charred remains.

Those believers who survived and witnessed this scene recited blasphemous scriptures in an even stronger tone, their fervor undiminished.

The Word Bearers cried out in shock, "Karyl?!"

"It's me," Karyl said. "It wasn't easy to find you, Angron Ty."

He frowned deeply, and the skull mask did not conceal his face. His excessively pale skin was reflected as a deep blue by the intense psychic Radiance emanating from his eyes. Just standing in front of him, Angron Tai felt a chill as if his blood was rapidly draining away.

He had seen many Psyker casting spells in the past, but none of them could suffocate him like Karyl Lohars simply by appearing.

"What are you doing?!"

"This is not the time to talk about these things," Karyl replied, still frowning. Then he raised his hands.

Angron Te saw a series of complex gestures, and moreover, he heard some indistinct but continuous speech from Karyl.

The suffocating feeling grew stronger, Word Bearers clutched his neck, about to fall to the ground. But the shadows helped him at that moment, providing him with a foothold and keeping him standing.

Then, Karyl grabbed him, and with a strong sense of being pulled away, they vanished from the spot. Amidst the crackling of electricity, they reappeared in a gray-white building.

Karyl frowned and released him, not forgetting to rip off the shadow as he did so. The shadow wriggled a few times before falling silent, returning to the back of the armor to serve as a cloak.

Angron Tey clutched his forehead and groaned softly. He felt like his head was going to explode, and everything he saw was spinning. So Karyl reached out again, grabbed him, and whispered a word.

It sounded like a command, yet also like a greeting. In an instant, the dizziness vanished from the Word Bearers's mind.

"What?" Angron Tey instinctively uttered a single word, then more. "How, no, what, what's going on?"

"I found you. I cleared out some of the pursuers. I teleported you to where you were going. I also cleared away the aftereffects of the teleportation."

Karyl calmly and methodically answered the questions that Angron Tei had not yet voiced, his brow still furrowed as if the crisis was not yet over.

"Thank you, Instructor Karyl." After taking a second or two to gather his thoughts, Angron Tai raised his hand and expressed his gratitude in barely fluent High Gothic. "But where are we now?"

"That's what you need to worry about," Karyl said, turning around so that his cloak, now far blacker than ever before, swept across the room, illuminating the dimly lit room with candlelight.

Angron Teyne fell silent as he saw thousands of sarcophagi, each one incredibly rough.

The marks of those Word Bearers were left on the surface of these coffins with crude brushstrokes, and Angron -Thais knew without guessing whose handiwork it was.

He closed his mouth, keeping his teeth slightly clenched, his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth, and his throat bobbed involuntarily a few times. Karyl did not disturb him, but let him walk to a coffin.

Angron Tei bent down, trying to push the coffin open, but failed. Even with the strength of Astartes, the sarcophagus remained unmoved. So he gritted his teeth, used all his strength to brace against the coffin itself, and made a second attempt.

This time, it still didn't work.

"Things involving the Warp cannot be judged by common sense, Angron Tai." Standing rooted to the spot, Karyl spoke coldly. "Your brothers, like you before, were lost in the darkness. It was Lorgar Aurelian who saved you."

The Word Bearers suddenly turned around.

Karyl lifted a corner of his cloak, which began to tremble. A few seconds later, a drop of golden blood rose upside down from the darkness, as if something sunk into the sea had been turned upside down by supernatural forces.

Angron Te stared intently at the blood, a sorrow beyond measure beginning to boil within him. He didn't reach out, yet the blood began to fly towards him as if drawn by some unseen force.

It melted into his brow, leaving no mark, while Angron Tei knelt on the ground, fragmented images beginning to appear before his eyes.

"Nothing is more natural than a father's blood flowing away for his son, Angron Te."

"I have failed so far, but at least I can do one last thing, and it will surely succeed."

Angron Tei began to rub his hands haphazardly on the ground. He should have cried, but he didn't. He clenched his teeth tightly, refusing to make a sound.

His eyes were closed, and a terrifying golden light emanated from his hands and skin, bathing him in gold. If one did not look closely, it would seem as if Lorgar Aurelian himself had appeared. Five seconds after the light appeared, a faint, continuous sound of friction and breathing came from the stone coffins all around.

It was as if the dead had been startled awake.

Karyl watched this scene without pity, then raised his hand and put on the skull mask.

He doesn't need pity.

For this scene is not the collapse of the Son of Man. This scene is the rebirth of the Aurelian's Sons.

This chapter is 4k words long.

Update complete.