Twenty-Four Statues Shattered, the Dead Revived (IX)

"This won't get us anywhere," Samus said.

A fierce wind swept across our faces, and the sky was as red as blood. The clouds were as black as obsidian. There was no sign of rain, and the air was not humid; they had gathered together only to unleash a storm and lightning.

The ground was ablaze, and as far as the eye could see, there were only ruins billowing with thick smoke. Mountains of corpses and seas of blood were all engulfed in flames. Samus turned its head, withdrew its gaze, and turned its eyes back to the faces of its only two recognized enemies.

The grotesque bone surface had turned charred black; forcibly entering the atmosphere from outer space had clearly caused it some trouble. Since it existed in the material world, it had to abide by the rules here.

A dark, blood-red light flashed and disappeared from its deep eye sockets. The monster said nothing, but the speed at which the pair of jet-black wings on its back flapped began to increase.

The Daemon finally couldn't hold back and burst into laughter again.

"A burial ground for millions of lives! Such a suitable final battlefield! Hey, Shen, how much longer until we land?"

No one answered its question, only the increasingly frigid wind howled. A bolt of lightning lashed down from the dark clouds, illuminating the sky, followed by a clap of thunder. It didn't strike Samus, who was acting as a shield, or the monster crashing to the ground, but it was a beginning.

Following it, a series of lightning bolts struck in quick succession, as if a god were unleashing his wrath.

The monster changed its strategy, spinning and circling to avoid the lightning strikes. When it encountered lightning that it couldn't avoid, it raised its Samus and used the still enormous Daemon as a shield.

Samus simply burst into wild laughter, seemingly unconcerned. Having endured over a dozen bolts of lightning, its already charred and molten body, ravaged by the friction between the flames and the atmosphere, now looked even more gruesome.

Muscles and bones had all vanished; the jaw hung precariously on the beast's head, and the stiff mane had long since melted away, turning into a mud-like substance that seeped into its flesh.

But this was not the end. The monster even threw Samus away just before it reached the ground. The Daemon tore through the air like a flesh-and-blood missile, crashing miserably into a pile of ruins.

Amidst the pain and roars, before it could even recover its strength, two jet-black spears descended from the sky, instantly piercing its body and transforming into chains of flames that bound it firmly to the ground.

Seeing this, Erebus helplessly lowered his arm. The dark clouds dissipated, the Thunder disappeared, and the sky returned to its blood-red hue. However, a shooting star fell from the sky and landed heavily in front of the chapel, causing the ground to crack as if a natural disaster had struck.

As the smoke and dust dissipated, the darkness cried out in unison, and the demons and monsters within chanted a name in unison, a single syllable, yet spoken by them in completely different tones.

Some were indifferent, some reverent, some angry, and some even filled with carnal desire.

All of this had nothing to do with Erebus. The Dark Apostle ignored them, only cautiously clenching his fingers inside his wide sleeves.

At that moment, the dissipation of smoke and dust suddenly stopped, and two furious crimson points flashed and disappeared within them. A jet-black light shattered the smoke and dust, carrying contradictory high temperatures and chilling cold as it rushed straight toward Erebus and the Great Unclean One were standing in front of the chapel.

The latter had no idea what was happening. But it didn't need to understand, because the attacker had absolutely no interest in it.

A dark, blood-red light quietly bloomed, its color a dull, deep red, like an old wound that had scabbed over for ten thousand years but had never truly healed.

Only then did the slow-witted Dolor react and take a step back in fear—its action caused it to trip over the collapsed church doors, and its fat, white body rolled into the church.

At that moment, all the Emperor's statues began to Radiance, as if a sun were rising from inside the church.

Erebus felt the terrifying heat rising from behind him, and he couldn't help but chuckle softly, looking through a phantom ripple at the monster that had attacked him.

The sword in the latter's hand had even grazed his face, but it couldn't penetrate any further, and was firmly stuck in mid-air by a shimmering golden ripple.

"That's terrifying."

Amidst the screams and dissolving sounds of the Great Unclean One, Erebus nodded calmly to the monster and offered his greetings.

"Greetings, Lord Shen," the Dark Apostle said politely. "It's been a long time. I thought you could hold out longer."

The monster slightly opened its mouth, revealing an irregular slit in its tightly sealed, sharp teeth, from which black smoke escaped.

Suddenly, Erebus's expression changed. Without hesitation, he raised his hands and transformed the golden light into a shockwave-like spell, attempting to repel the monster.

He succeeded, yet he didn't. Under the influence of this spell, the circular plaza transformed into a massive crater, as if it had been bombarded by a missile. Bricks turned to dust and floated in the air. Fragments of human bodies mingled seamlessly with the Ethereal flesh and blood of Daemon, tumbling in the mud and becoming an abstract ink painting.

Despite its immense destructive power, the target he truly intended to strike was never hit.

At this very moment, it was flying in the sky, coldly looking down at Erebus, holding in its arms an Astartes who was being tormented by hallucinations.

"That spell will destroy his mind!" Erebus shouted with a smile, standing on the edge of the unscathed church. "How about we compromise, Lord Shen? I'll lift the spell for you, and you let me go?"

Countless bursts of laughter echoed from the darkness, applauding Erebus's provocation and insults, with only a few offering disdainful and contemptuous snorts.

The Dark Apostle observed all of this without taking any action, at least for the time being.

He lowered his hands, Deceit revealing both hands outside his sleeves, as if he were about to cast a Chaos spell from the Warp right in front of Shen.

Meanwhile, his Shadow silently crept up behind him. It was just waiting for the right opportunity to become something else entirely.

The monster in the sky watched him indifferently, as if it had seen through everything, and shook its head coldly. Black smoke rose from the ends of its wings, and flames began to spread slowly from its feet, silently enveloping the entire church.

Flames rose up, and under their cold scrutiny, Erebus finally suppressed his smile and shook his head with slight regret.

He turned around, glanced at the Great Unclean One had returned to the Empyrean, and the Emperor statues that had been completely turned to dust, and without hesitation, stepped back into the church with his left leg.

The light reflected from the broken stained-glass window shone on his priest's robe, making the smile on Erebus's face, which was covered with scriptures, appear holy and devout.

He laughed, opened his arms, and shouted again at the monster in the sky as if enjoying himself.

"The fragments are inside this church, am I right, Shen?"

The monster did not answer, but simply descended slowly.

It stopped before the deep pit, gazing at Erebus from afar. The Astartes in its arms was still trapped in a terrible hallucination, its mind worn down by countless meaningless stretches of time.

In just a short while, his mind had completely succumbed to delusion. The Dark Apostle was right; the illusion would soon utterly destroy him.

But the monster killed him before that could happen.

The flames penetrated deep into his chest, destroying his life force, but also ending the torment.

Fury and salvation have never been related; it cannot help the monster break the terrifying sorcery that is tormenting Iharal. The power of killing can only be used for killing; this is its inherent limitation and a shackle brought about by its excessive power.

The monster lowered its head and happened to see Iharal's eyes. He was dying, his soul soon departing for somewhere, but before that, he seemed to recognize Shen.

Then, he forced a very ugly smile.

The monster raised its head, raised its hand, and threw Iharal's corpse into the deep pit, then began to walk.

Flames that had never existed before surged from its armor, instantly filling the deep pit and turning it into a large, black stone.

Then, the ground began to tremble and rumble, and a stone tablet quietly rose from the rocks that filled the deep pit, bearing many names and a word written in Nostraman.

Vengeance.

The monster raised its wings, flames of fury burning within them. The flames dissipated into streaks of light, only to merge back into one, transforming into a dull, lifeless sword, which the monster held in its hand.

That sword was once named Never Look Back, a finely crafted Power Sword, a masterpiece, possessing superb balance and power. But now, its balance has vanished without a trace.

The sword blade widened, with twisted characters lingering on it. The hilt resembled the horns of a monster, and a skull roared with its mouth agape in the very center of the guard.

The monster slowly lifted it up, and flames ignited.

Erebus frowned, turned his head, and glanced at the tightly closed wooden door. When he turned his head back, the ridiculous pretense that had always been with him vanished completely. What remained was only a calm, thoughtful expression.

"Indeed, the night before the task is nearing completion is the most agonizing," the Dark Apostle said. "But have you ever considered one thing, Shen? Did I really come here for this fragment?"

This was the only time Shen's spirit answered his question within the monster's body.

"I don't care," Shen said. "I just want you dead."

Erebus nodded, flicked his finger, and used his psionic energy to blow towards the illusory whistle. At that moment, his Shadow leaped out from behind him, and the monster slashed at it with its sword, but a right hand as white as mutton fat jade appeared from the shadow and firmly grasped the blade in its hand.

Darkness surged, Shadow began to passively take shape. A tall giant appeared inside the church. He was handsome, and his face was also covered with scriptures, shining with gold, which made him look extremely divine.

However, this god-like giant had no intelligence whatsoever in his eyes, only a dull and stupid intelligence, like a puppet on strings, without any self-awareness.

The monster let out a low growl, withdrew its sword, and then raised it to strike again. Its strength had been greatly enhanced, but the giant, with his bleeding right fist, easily blocked the attack, deflecting the blade.

He was indeed mentally deranged, yet he did not press his advantage. The false consciousness that had once permeated his body vanished under Erebus's control.

The Dark Apostle had already explained to the gods that what he needed was not a pseudo- Primarch with self-awareness, but a handy, useful tool that would completely obey his commands.

The gods granted his request, but three of them paid no attention. Only the Tzeentch inquired in detail about Erebus's plan and gave it his strong support.

He seemed completely unconcerned about how Lorgar Aurelian's body would be treated in the hands of Erebus, nor whether Erebus was using their power to seek something he shouldn't have touched.

As always, the Tzeentch doesn't care about these things.

He only wanted to see change, endless change.

So, at this moment, Erebus was able to stand here and coldly observe the battle between the puppet and the monster. But one of his thoughts had already drifted far away, until it reached beyond the church and touched upon a Daemon bound to the ground.

Samus immediately noticed his arrival, and a slow smile spread across his ugly face.

"You've failed," Erebus said mercilessly. "And this isn't the cooperation we agreed on, Samus."

"Cooperate?"

"Yes. I demanded that you keep Shen's promise to his ship, at least until my men retrieved that last drop of blood, before you could do what you wanted. Now it seems you haven't kept our agreement."

"You're talking about keeping your word with a Daemon? You're ridiculously stupid," Samus asked with a sneer.

"No, I'm just talking to you about the rules," Erebus said.

His ethereal spirit slowly emerged from the darkness and crouched beside Samus, reaching out to touch the chains. No one knew how he did it, but the flames began to slowly dissipate.

The Daemon lowered its head and stared at his hand, a hint of disgust flashing in its beastly eyes.

"Your methods are becoming increasingly disgusting," it said. "You don't believe in any god, anything, and you've never truly revered anything. You're a born bastard, Erebus, even the bastards among the Unborn would be astonished by you."

Erebus raised his head with a half-smile and retorted, "A Daemon talking to me about such things? You merely manipulate souls to dissipate the hatred within these flames. Did you hesitate even a moment when you devoured souls? At least, I don't eat people."

Samus couldn't help but bare his fangs at his words: "The more I know about you, the more disgusted I become with you, Erebus. You're not human, but you're not an unborn either. Even those imposters created by Horus are more pleasing to the eye than you."

Erebus smiled and shook his head at it, then stood up. The chains slid off the Daemon's wounded body, and the power of Chaos began to surge within its shell once more, healing its injuries.

"Now, go back to that ship," Erebus said. "If I get that drop of blood, you'll have a chance to resolve all your issues with Shen."

As soon as he finished speaking, the illusory spirit vanished from its spot, transforming into a streak of light and returning to the church.

At this moment, the puppet and the monster have completely destroyed this place. Every collision between them is incredibly terrifying. Shockwaves relentlessly shake the ground, causing the earth to crack, the church to collapse, and the statues to shatter.

Erebus remained standing there, staring at everything, seemingly unmoved, not in a hurry to immediately obtain the fragment.

"How much longer can you hold on, Shen?" he asked softly, his voice reaching Shen's ears precisely amidst the sounds of battle.

"I have studied you. I know that your true form, your extraordinary bloodthirsty nature, can only be fully unleashed within the Warp. In the material world, you are incomplete; the immense power you gained after ascending to demonic form is confined within your original physical bodies."

"Every bit of power you use will hasten the collapse of that body. I don't even need to focus on controlling that shell to fight you; just holding you back will send you back to the Warp with endless regret."

The monster cast a cold glance at him, as if to ask, "Then why haven't you made a move yet?"

Yes, why? Maybe it's just for fun, or maybe it's just because I want to humiliate a hero like you, to have some amusement and pass the time.

The Dark Apostle smiled and turned around, walking towards the side door leading to the inner room. The house had long since collapsed along with the church, but the door remained in place.

Erebus could feel the power gathering within it; he understood that the place behind this door was no longer a priest's residence, but something else entirely.

He raised his right hand and placed it on the doorknob, but instead of pushing it open, he let go after a moment of silence.

It cannot be opened at the moment.

Erebus calmly and rationally took a few steps back to where he had just stood, showing no signs of anxiety, even though he had been preparing for this day for nearly ten thousand years.

He flicked his fingers, drawing upon the power of Chaos to add weight to the puppet's battle. He didn't want the physical form to be damaged too severely, so he kept his power restrained.

A false and incomplete Primarch fighting against a Greater Daemon is completely unable to unleash his full power could be considered a fair battle, but Erebus detests fairness the most.

He disliked this kind of thing; if everyone in the world were equal, wouldn't there be much less fun?

A continuous stream of Chaos power, under the influence of Erebus's will, entered Lorgar's body. In just a few moments, he would achieve victory. Shen would be forced back to where he belonged, and the drop of blood on the Soul of Night would be obtained by Samus.

Of course, there's also this fragment.

Erebus turned his head to look at the stubbornly standing wooden door.

Even as its activity was just beginning to reawaken, news spread throughout the Chaos ocean. Demons rushed about, spreading the word throughout the entire Warp, and even those individuals who cared least about the real world, or who were not Daemon, knew about it.

Erebus knew this, and was one of the first to know it. There is no time in the Warp, but he was not in the Warp. His soul could enter the Chaos to seek support, revelation, or something else, but his body could not.

Life in the material world is far more interesting than in Warp, and only by staying in the material world can he gain some freedom to do things.

Although the Tzeentch agreed to cooperate with him, he had been trying to influence him so that he would become one of His servants. It wasn't that Erebus had never believed in gods before, but after a war, he had seen through the true face of so-called gods.

They too can bleed and die. From a realistic and cruel perspective, the only difference between them and humans lies in the amount of power they possess.

This is where Erebus's ambition comes from.

Yes, it was amusing to wreak havoc on humanity under the protection of Chaos, watching one fool after another die in vain; it suited his evil nature perfectly. But he was no longer content with tormenting mortals, Astartes, or even Primarch.

He wanted more.

Samus said he wasn't human; he was wrong. What other race in the world, besides humans, possesses such terrible greed?

Erebus smiled, filled with joy and anticipation as he began to wait.

--

Tujea continued his wait.

How long had he been waiting? How long had he been inside this cabin? The dejected investigator sighed, sat on Horst's wooden bed, propped himself up on his knees, and covered his face with his hands.

He wanted to know exactly how much time had passed and what had happened in the outside world, but he had no way or means to get the answers to these two questions.

All Tujea could do was wait. At first, he remained calm and rational, contemplating the situation.

He thought the distress signal should have been sent long ago, and another Space Marine Chapter would soon come to their aid. The Litatera would win, though they would face rigorous scrutiny after the war, but they would win, and many would survive.

This idea gave him a glimmer of hope and the strength to keep going.

So Tujea began to eat his candy, each one needing to be melted with his saliva until the taste of the cheap candy had completely disappeared from his mouth before he would eat the next one.

And so, he slowly ate all thirteen candies, unfolding each wrapper and placing them flat on Horst's table.

However, for some reason, the candy wrapper was facing down on the table. Tujea didn't understand why he had done that, but...

He took a deep breath, lowered his hands, slowly stood up, walked to the round table, and hesitantly extended his right hand.

A gentle breeze blew, and the candy wrappers all unfolded, their words arranged to form a slogan that Tujea completely unfamiliar and had never seen before.

No, that's not right. It's no longer a slogan, but a name, a name he'd never heard before. The language it's written in is one that Tujea has never studied, yet he can understand it perfectly.

He murmured it aloud.

[Konrad Curze Curze.]

The shards in his pocket suddenly Radiance.