"You damned, lowly creature of flesh, I curse you forever! I swear it by my true name!"
Within the illusory ocean of the Warp, an enormous Warp daemon chattered endlessly as it vented its fury.
Countless filthy words spewed from its mouth—some in human tongues, others in far more ancient xenos languages.
Yet what shocked countless Warp daemons was that an Astartes with a deformed body was clinging tightly to the daemon's neck from atop the bony spines on its back, riding it in an immensely humiliating posture.
"Curse all you want. It's not like I can die anyway."
"You'd better behave yourself, unless you want to suffer."
The man and daemon were naturally Maloghurst and the Chaos daemon Amarok, who had entered the Warp in search of fragments of their master's soul. Compared to the beginning, however, the balance between them had clearly been reversed.
One of Maloghurst's hands strangled the daemon's throat, while the other had already driven a ritual dagger through its body. The malicious sorcerous weapon pressed firmly against Amarok's organs. With one more push, Amarok would die completely, with no possibility of return.
After Maloghurst and Amarok had reached a verbal agreement, the Twisted One had taken advantage of the moment the daemon was forming their blood pact to viciously stab it with the ritual dagger he carried.
Though a verbal contract carried a certain degree of binding force, it was still inferior to one written in human skin and blood.
Amarok's attempt to reduce its risks had instead brought about its misfortune.
The strike had been so stealthy and swift that even the daemon had failed to react. It had not even realized that this human would dare resist it.
More hateful still, he had truly seized Amarok's weak point. The ritual dagger possessed