Late Judgment (IX): Plans Can't Keep Up with Changes

A thousandth of a second later, the Lion Sword collided with a crooked wooden staff.

An indescribable roar and blaze erupted without restraint from the point of impact. Thousands of wailing souls flickered across the staff's surface and vanished in an instant.

Amid the explosion, the light, and the faint screams, the Lion took a step back.

He had intended to sweep his sword across once more, seize the initiative and exploit his advantage in speed, banishing this foul thing before it could cast another spell. But he did not get his wish. The creature merely tilted its staff slightly, and another flash of silver light burst from its tip.

The light effortlessly tore apart the laws of nature, summoning a freezing gale that even the Lion found difficult to resist—and it immediately put him on guard.

This was far from his first encounter with Tzeentch's daemons. He knew exactly how troublesome they were.

Ordinary combat, though dangerous for both sides, was still a matter of setting problems and solving them. Fighting them was different. These noisy avian creatures did not pose their questions one at a time. They preferred to throw a hundred questions at you in a single instant.

Could not see or understand them? Good. That was exactly what they wanted.

The wind pierced to the bone. An incomprehensible evil power seeped through the gaps in his armor and into the Lion's bones, making him truly feel cold.

He disliked the Ecclesiarchy, but his armor had still been blessed by several devout priests. Yet, judging by the current situation, either those priests had not been devout enough, or the daemon and the foul sorcery it wielded represented a power beyond the reach of what "faith" could ordinarily affect.

So you are not here, Father.

The Lion tightened