Tzeentch Has No Schemes, Khorne Has Little Wit

Cecilia was highly wary of Lin En as well.

Although Lin En was wearing Astra Militarum gear, the Astra Militarum were all ordinary humans. Finding a living guardsman in a Hive City abandoned for ten thousand years was bizarre in itself.

Every muscle in Cecilia's body was taut.

She sat beside the fire with her back straight, staring intently at Lin En.

She remained seated so she could keep something in reserve and prevent him from figuring out her condition.

Her hands appeared to rest flat on her knees, but her fingers were already slightly curled. She could clench her fists, block, or grab anything that could serve as a weapon at any moment.

The man in front of her... boy?

A guardsman's standard equipment was nothing high-end, but it was not something an ordinary person could obtain casually either. More importantly, the Astra Militarum did not operate alone. And this person was far too young—young and frail, nothing like a soldier who had undergone Imperial Guard training.

He was standing in a rather subtle position, quite a distance from her, with the entrance to the cave system directly behind him.

That distance and position made it convenient for him to escape. The fact that he had chosen to stand there meant he was afraid of her.

A glint flashed through Cecilia's eyes.

A Chaos Cultist would not fear a lone Battle Sister. They would swarm her, shouting the name of the Blood God, eager to chop off her head and use it as a drinking cup.

This person was most likely not a Chaos Cultist.

Lin En absolutely did not approach.

That reaction speed and eagerness to counterattack were exactly what one would expect from a rigorously trained Battle Sister.

She had mutated now, and he truly could not tell whether she was still the same Battle Sister as before.

What if he got too close and the Battle Sister suddenly leaped up and punched him? Who would he argue with then?

After taking a punch like that, the Battle Sister would have to kneel and beg him not to die.

The two of them faced each other like that.

The atmosphere was extremely tense.

The fire burned between them, crackling loudly.

The gray-white light from the top of the Hive City fell over Lin En, stretching his shadow long behind him.

Cecilia's slit pupils gleamed gold amid the mingling firelight and gray-white light, like two pieces of amber polished to a shine.

Both sides were highly alert, like startled birds. Neither of them spoke first.

Cecilia's eyes swept over Lin En's face, his equipment, his hands, the dagger at his waist, and the cave entrance behind him.

Lin En drew a deep breath. Knowing that this stalemate was pointless, he spoke first and made her curse the Four Gods.

"You curse the Four Gods first."

Cecilia frowned slightly. "What?"

"One curse for each god." Lin En's tone was so serious that he did not sound as though he were joking.

The fire popped.

Cecilia stared at him for three seconds, then the corner of her mouth twitched.

Fine. This really was a good method. It sounded a little crude, but in places infested with heretics, it was indeed an efficient way to identify them.

No matter how well a Chaos Cultist disguised themselves, making them verbally insult the true gods they worshipped would probably make them explode straight into a Chaos Spawn. They might as well just die.

You never knew until you said it, and then it could be quite a shock. This boy had actually thought of such a method.

Cecilia found herself admiring the boy in front of her a little.

She spoke slowly, each word sharp enough to sting. "Khorne's throne shall surely collapse beneath my lord's holy sword."

"Every one of Tzeentch's schemes shall be shattered in my lord's radiance."

"Nurgle, your garden got burned again."

"Slaanesh..." When she reached the last one, her disgust was utterly undisguised. "You are more disgusting than the rats in a Hive City."

Cecilia had cursed them, so she made him curse the Four Gods as well. "Your turn."

Lin En cursed them without hesitation. "Khorne has strong limbs but a simple mind. Nurgle has a rotten crotch. Tzeentch... a pure and kind little Blue Bird. Slaanesh..."

When he reached Slaanesh, Lin En found himself at a loss. Neither male nor female? Attracting men? Selling their crotch?

He thought about it, then finally spat out three words that delivered the killing blow: "...not sexy enough."

Cecilia choked.

What a vicious... insult. He had basically denied Slaanesh's divine portfolio at its very root.

Still, Cecilia felt much more at ease. He definitely was not a Chaos Cultist.

To infiltrate an Imperial stronghold, a cultist could memorize an entire copy of the Imperial Creed, burn a dozen Aquila brands into their own body, and kneel outside a grand cathedral weeping for three days and three nights. But they absolutely could not be this vicious toward the Four Gods.

The Chaos Gods truly existed in this world. If their followers mouthed off to the Four Gods, they would explode into a Chaos Spawn on the spot.

Lin En took the initiative to curse a few other species as well. "The Necrons are extinct. Congratulations, Aeldari children—their babies are born as Slaanesh. Orks spend all day going 'Waaagh, waaagh, waaagh, where's your mother?' A bunch of idiots. T'au..."

Lin En tilted his head and looked up at the sky. "What are T'au? Is there really such a species in 40K? I don't remember them."

Cecilia almost failed to hold back.

What a vicious bastard.

The T'au lived far away in the Milky Way's Eastern Fringe, on the frontier, and even counting their civilization from the Stone Age, their history was only around six thousand years old.

Whenever those people in the Imperium who had lived for more than ten thousand years heard someone mention the T'au, they would say, "What T'au? T'au what?"

"As for the Tyranids, there's no need to mention them, right? Just a bunch of filthy beasts."

He had cursed them all.

This person cursed xenos even more fluently than he cursed Chaos. Necrons, Aeldari, Orks, T'au, Tyranids—he had missed not a single one, and every insult had struck exactly where it hurt, the kind that would make anyone who heard it completely lose their composure.

Cecilia smiled involuntarily.

It really was a highly effective method. In Warhammer 40,000, honor and faith stood above everything else. Even a spy with a mission could not possibly insult their respective masters and species like that.

Good. It was confirmed that both sides were subjects of the Emperor.

Cecilia rose from beside the fire. She did not move forward, instead remaining where she was with both hands raised at her sides, palms facing forward, just as Lin En had done earlier, indicating that she had no weapons.

Her movements were very slow, slow enough to give Lin En ample time to react.

Lin En straightened slightly as well and raised both hands.

The two sides slowly approached until they met.

Cecilia saw clearly now. The person opposite her really ought to be called a boy.

His skin was delicate, his eyes clear, and he had the clever foolishness of someone who had grown up in a safe environment.

"Battle Sister, Cecilia." Cecilia extended a hand.

Her voice was slightly hoarse. Perhaps she had not drunk enough water for several days, or perhaps her throat was simply like that.

Lin En looked at her outstretched hand. It was a forearm greeting, with their forearms clasped together—the etiquette of Imperial soldiers.

He had seen this gesture before. In the Warhammer games, whenever a mission was completed well or the Space Marines were happy to see you, they would call each other brothers and then grip your forearm.

Lin En hurriedly reached out and grasped her forearm as well. "Hello, sister. My name is Lin En."

Sister. In this dangerous cesspit called 40K, as long as everyone was a subject of the Emperor and had not betrayed humanity, they were all brothers and sisters.

After completing the greeting, Cecilia released his arm and took a step back, sizing him up again.

"You're alone?" she asked.

"I'm alone."

"What are you doing here?"

Lin En thought about it and decided to tell part of the truth. "I don't know. I woke up in this cave. I've been chased by cultists for several days, stole their supplies, and hid in this Hive City. Then I saw you."

"Then where did the Astra Militarum equipment on you come from?"

"I stole it from the cultists' storage room."

--

(A lot of people miss things when I put them in the author's notes, so I'm putting this in the main text this time.

In Warhammer, the idea that one cannot curse the Four Gods is actually a misconception held by people who only know the setting superficially. What they mean is that [ordinary people] cannot curse the Four Gods.

The Emperor's warriors are not ordinary people.

The Inquisition, Battle Sisters, and Ecclesiarchy priests routinely [call the Four Gods by name] and openly denounce them on the front lines. They do not need euphemisms; it is extremely common.

"Abjure the Heretic," "The Battle Sister's Codex," "Ecclesiarchy Proclamations," "The Dark Servant," "The Bloody Rose," "Paragon of Faith," "The Battle Record of a Sister Novice," "Saint of Martyrdom," "The Witch-Breaker," "Dark Heresy," and many other official GW novels explicitly depict Battle Sisters and priests openly calling the Four Gods by name and denouncing them.

The Four Gods have believers, and so does the Emperor. The Emperor's psychic protection truly exists. As long as one is devout enough, one can rely on the shield of the Emperor's faith to block the Four Gods' Gaze.

The Emperor's warriors are not so afraid of being watched by the Chaos Gods. If the Four Gods really want to look, then let them look. And don't claim the Emperor is number one if you won't.

Stop spreading the claim that no one in Warhammer can directly say the Four Gods' names. That is a rumor.