Barbarus, Northern Mountains, old stronghold.
Now.
The meeting room, once plain and sparsely decorated, had become incomparably magnificent. Not a single ornament had been added, yet the man sitting casually in the center of the room alone made the simple chamber seem resplendent with gold and jade.
He wore a white robe, its intricate and lavish patterns traced in fine gold thread. Yet from afar, there was no sign of any gold thread at all; one could only see the white robe shimmering with golden light.
Countless high-ranking officers crowded around the edges of the meeting room, but not one dared approach the man. They could only look upon him with reverence and awe.
The man merely sat there. His eyes were filled with kindness and sorrow, only to turn stern and murderous an instant later. His long black hair fell loosely about him, each strand like ink-black silk painstakingly carved by a sculptor over a lifetime.
The man's golden eyes seemed to pierce through the room's walls, through countless miles, straight toward the highest peak in the distance.
Still no good?
The man, who had been as motionless as emerald wood, suddenly moved. He reached for the blade at his waist and gripped its hilt.
+Trans--
Wait?!
Barbarus, Northern Mountains, Alien Lord Nac'Lare's territory, mountaintop.
At the same time.
Hades's vision blurred, vast patches of black-green flooding his sight.
At the very edge of losing consciousness, Hades saw Mortarion's swaying form finally collapse beneath the crushing pressure of Psychic Power and poison gas, one knee striking the ground.
No. No.
It shouldn't be like this.
Then Hades fell into the Black Hole of unconsciousness.
The instant Hades's last shred of autonomous consciousness vanished, his enormous instinct to survive at the brink of death and his tremendous unwillingness before blacking out caused the Null Field, which had been subconsciously compressed to its limit, to erupt!
Previously, Hades's Null Field had been unable to expand to its limit because his body was not strong enough. If he forcibly expanded it, his body would collapse.
But now, his dying body instinctively chose to go all out!
—This was a massive, silent explosion—
An enormous spherical Null Field suddenly enveloped the entire mountaintop. Unlike the thin, pale black it became when expanded in the past, the Null Field was now pure, absolute black, as though not a single ray of light could escape its reach. It mercilessly devoured everything!
Alien Lord Nac'Lare instantly dropped to both knees. Blood began spraying from his skin, like an overripe tomato crushed in someone's hand. His eyes bulged outward, and his left hand, which had been holding the Scythe Annihilation, released it and clawed madly at his own chest.
Across from him, Mortarion also jolted violently and clutched the scythe tightly in both hands. Blood began pouring from all seven of his openings, slowly spilling from his mouth.
The silent suppression of the Null Field seemed to last a long time, yet it also seemed to last only an instant.
As the Null Field slowly receded like the tide, its pure blackness gradually became transparent—
Mortarion, whose flesh had begun to rot away under the poison gas's corrosion, braced himself against the scythe and stood up in an unbelievable posture.
His face was covered in blood foam corroded by the poison gas, while his consciousness, battered by the Null Field, hung precariously over a cliff.
Mortarion felt as though he was digging his fingernails into the cliff edge of consciousness, barely keeping himself from passing out immediately.
Mortarion dragged himself forward with a limp. He made his way to Nac'Lare, who was kneeling on the ground, clawing at himself and vomiting blood.
He raised his scythe.
As if waking from a great dream, Nac'Lare opened his mouth wide and looked up at the Death whose shadow had already engulfed him.
No—no, no no!
Mortarion smiled.
The scythe fell.
That utterly laughable head rolled away.
Seeing the xenos head he had once despised beyond measure finally hit the ground, Mortarion could no longer hold on and dropped to his knees where he stood.
With trembling hands, he raised his father's head until it was level with his own.
"I finally killed you, Father."
He smiled happily, but the face with its bones exposed by poison corrosion could no longer quite form a smile.
Then, using the last of his strength, he glanced toward Hades.
"Sorry. Thank you."
"Bang!"
The Primarch's towering body fell as well.
The instant the Primarch fell, just as the Null Field completely receded, a dazzling golden light flashed upon the mountaintop.
The poison gas surrounding the peak was instantly dispersed by the golden radiance.
A tall, majestic figure slowly stepped out of the golden light. The Emperor wore his magnificent, dazzling golden armor, its exquisitely carved patterns, vast yet microscopic, kissing the Lord of Humanity.
Smooth raven-black hair fell around him, crowned by a golden olive-leaf circlet, as though it had just been plucked from the tip of a tree branch at dawn—delicate, yet resilient.
The Lord of Humanity slowly walked to Mortarion's side. He knelt on one knee and lifted his pitiful, tragic, lamentable son into his arms.
He rose. Mortarion, battered and broken all over, leaned unconscious against the Lord of Humanity.
A squad of Custodian Guards and Silent Sisters also marched out in orderly ranks from the golden light behind the Emperor.
The Custodian Guards wore magnificent golden Power Armor. The tall red plumes atop their helmets danced proudly with their steps, as though their very presence on this filthy planet was its greatest mercy.
The Silent Sisters wore dark-gray Armor of Contempt. Every sister moved exactly the same way, their orderly armor producing a unified clanging sound as they walked.
The leading Silent Sister and a Custodian Guard quickly headed toward Hades.
The Silent Sister crouched down, closed her eyes, and focused her mind.
Then, as if she had received an answer, she stood and made a complex gesture with her hands.
When they became Silent Sisters, these left hands of the Emperor swore not to speak unless necessary. In place of speech, they used a dazzlingly intricate sign language.
"My lord, he is an outsider."
The Custodian Guard's calm voice rang out. He drew his guardian spear and aimed it at the dying Hades's head.
A brief pause.
The Custodian Guard seemed to be asking his master whether, as before, this uncontrollable variable should be eliminated.
"No."
"Take him back for treatment."
There's one chapter left before the Barbarus arc ends!
(*/＼*)
Enjoy reading! ('ω')
Before you continue