Emperor of Mankind Is a Pillar

Failed...

Zhou Yun frowned. He had actually felt that the black knight he had imagined had begun to take shape, if only slightly.

This showed that the spell was viable. He really could condense a guardian spirit forged entirely from the faith directed toward him.

But the psychic power born of faith was far too little. It was nowhere near enough to gather it into form...

Zhou Yun shook his head. This faith-derived psychic power was too difficult to gather unless he went and established some kind of religion.

But Macragge had no shortage of religions. Even old-established Catholicism had ended up in this state; starting a religion would not be that easy.

He was not some orphan raised by an Egyptian princess after being pulled from the water, nor the illegitimate child of some carpenter's wife, much less a merchant who rode camels through the desert and married a wealthy widow...

If only there were an existing religion that could replace the god its followers worshipped with Zhou Yun. If that was not possible, perhaps he could at least be given a prophet's position?

Forget Catholicism. Although the Emperor might really have been Jesus, Catholicism was currently doing rather miserably on Macragge. Its number of believers might not even exceed Zhou Yun's number of students.

Feeling the strengthened psychic power within him, Zhou Yun once again raised his consciousness into the Warp and looked back toward the Golden Throne.

Scalding, blazing, twisted... Within the Golden Throne, that dark brown shadow seemed ready to completely devour the Zhou Yun sitting upon it.

That dark brown shadow had vaguely become a little clearer, but only a little...

+What are you?+

Zhou Yun questioned the shadow again.

+...You... are... a... pig...+

...Why was it insulting him now??

Zhou Yun was baffled. He did not understand why the shadow behind the Golden Throne had suddenly called him a pig.

Yes, although the Emperor of Mankind was a pillar, and he was now the Emperor of Mankind, but...

Zhou Yun had no time to think further. Merely hearing those few fragmented words made his head feel as if it were splitting apart. His soul could no longer look directly at the shadow, much less listen to its voice. His body plummeted straight back into reality, returning to the Scholar's body.

Zhou Yun let out a rough breath.

He still could not see the shadow clearly. Just what level did his psychic power need to reach before he could see it?

Level 16 Alpha? Or an even higher Alpha-plus?

After adjusting himself slightly, Zhou Yun activated the precognition psychic spell, "Foresight," and began peering into the tracks of fate...

Red sand, red sand soaked in blood... Roaring beastmen... Bloodthirsty spectators...

A worm's eye floating in midair... A needle...

He also heard his own voice...

"Anesthetic? You want to drug me? Do you think this place is—"

He also heard hoofbeats, city gates opening, and cheers.

"Liberator! Liberator! Liberator!"

The sound stopped abruptly...

Then came fire, fire that burned an entire city. Blood flowed across the earth. Whips cracked, roars sounded, nails... nails...

After that came a spear of light that pierced heaven and earth, erasing all things in that instant...

Yet Zhou Yun was laughing, laughing wildly and freely, laughing in victory...

Zhou Yun opened his eyes, lightly covering his head as he could not help shaking it.

Those visions had been both blurry and fragmented. As expected, Macragge's Veil was still far too thick; even prophecies were so indistinct.

He had originally hoped to see information about the Pharos Lighthouse, yet what he foresaw was a chaotic scene from some unknown point in the future.

It seemed he could only obtain information from reality. Since he was together with Roboute Guilliman in his vision, he could only set his sights on the Marcus Guilliman family's recruitment in a few days.

Zhou Yun currently possessed seventy or eighty percent of the knowledge the Scholar once had. In a contest of pure knowledge, he might truly be unable to surpass Cicero... But Zhou Yun had no intention of competing fairly. He planned to cheat directly with psychic power...

And during the days before the recruitment... Zhou Yun rubbed his chin slightly. He planned to visit the bathhouse run by Slaanesh's followers a few more times. They had something he wanted.

He had only just fallen asleep!

Tatius, High Priest of the Semuneta Temple, clutched his heart and shakily climbed out of bed.

His heart was pounding violently, making Tatius wonder whether he would die tonight and go meet Semuneta.

Tatius glanced at the clock on the wall and discovered that he had only barely slept for two hours tonight. If this continued, his worn-out body would collapse sooner or later.

For more than twenty years since becoming High Priest, Tatius had heard wails from the void every night. They were undoubtedly the cries of agony of Semuneta, the goddess of beauty—the sound of the god he believed in being tortured.

And every night, Tatius could only listen to those sounds, trembling in fear and sorrow, often unable to fall asleep.

When Father's Eye rose, those sounds became clearest. Tatius could even see with his own eyes Semuneta's agonized appearance as she endured torture.

Sometimes, the demons torturing Semuneta seemed to notice that Tatius was watching. They would mock him, even beating and kicking him within his hallucinations, telling Tatius that if he wanted the torture to end, he should reveal the location of Semuneta's remains. Tatius had never agreed.

But tonight was particularly strange. Clearly, Father's Eye had already risen, yet the torture had ended early, and Semuneta's agonized wails had vanished. Tatius had almost thought he could enjoy his first good night's sleep in decades, but then...

Halfway through his sleep, Tatius clearly saw Semuneta in his dream. He saw that body tortured until it was shattered beyond recognition, and the goddess of beauty's pained smile.

This time, the goddess of beauty neither wailed nor wept. She merely softly spoke a name to Tatius and told him to find the person indicated by that name.

That would be cold hope.

Tatius remembered that name. It was clearly only a codename, yet it still carried overwhelming pressure, as though it were burning, scorching his chest with pain.

"The Cursed One..." Tatius murmured the name.

Why did it sound like some kind of cultist or sorcerer?

Tatius let out a breath. He should ask Laganon and Imhotep... Come to think of it, Imhotep had recently been investigating Macragge's sorcerers as well. Could that be related to the Cursed One?

Perhaps he could ask that old thief Lucretius.

Tatius could not help revealing a bitter smile. The Semuneta Temple was now a faith on Macragge second only to the War King Temple, yet he, its High Priest, could only investigate through such means.

There was no other way. Of the temple's six priests, five believed that the God of First Cry was Semuneta, and seventy percent of its followers firmly believed the same. Had the previous High Priest not overcome every obstacle to hand this position to him, the Semuneta Temple would likely have been renamed the God of First Cry Temple long ago.

His aged body had long since become incapable of resisting this overwhelming tide.

"Semuneta above, why did you choose a cowardly, useless man like me..."

Tatius prayed softly.

March 20th, Macragge calendar...

"Two days left, and you're telling me you still haven't dealt with that penniless grammar teacher?" In a private room of the bathhouse, a burly man roared at Cicero and Libo.