When Bona slowly woke, he saw the warship's ceiling and smelled the holy oil hanging in the air.
He sat up and looked around blankly.
His memories began to return, reminding him of what had happened.
I lost control again.
After defeating Skarbrand, he seemed to have roared and slaughtered his way onward, killing quite a lot of things.
Skarbrand had challenged him again and again, trying to claim the position of "Khorne's chosen," but Bona really had no interest in competing with him.
Skarbrand could have it if he wanted. If he called himself Khorne's foremost chosen, I certainly wouldn't argue.
[Bullshit! Skarbrand isn't worthy!]
Bona: ...
[Hehehe, I think Skarbrand is quite brave.]
This time, it was Tzeentch's voice again.
[I swear I'll pluck every last one of your bird feathers someday, one by one!]
Bona picked up the Imperial Holy Relic from the table and strapped it to his back.
The jumble of voices in his head vanished.
Much better.
Bona went out, leaving his room.
He went to the mess hall for some food, but the nearby officers' mess had provided relief to so many people during the expedition that only canned ant-cow remained.
The quartermaster seemed to want to find something else edible, but Bona didn't mind. He simply opened the canned ant-cow, only for the ant-cow inside to pierce his arm. His severed arm fell to the floor, still holding the can.
The atmosphere throughout the mess hall froze. Every officer eating there was instantly stunned.
The quartermaster broke into a cold sweat, especially when a commissar who had been eating turned to look. He felt as though he already had one foot in the grave.
Had Bona not picked up his severed arm without a change of expression, reattached it, and granted him