Dominic wanted to rebel, to raise his hand, to summon Thunder.
However, his consciousness was as insignificant as a speck of dust in this vast world, and he couldn't mobilize even a fraction of the power of the Machine Spirit.
The swarm of moths arrived in an instant.
The first moth landed on my arm, and my consciousness immediately felt an excruciating itch, followed by a corrosive sensation that penetrated deep into my soul.
More moths swarmed in, completely engulfing him.
Darkness, stench, a tingling, rotting sensation; consciousness felt like it was soaked in formaldehyde, swelling and blurring little by little.
He struggled with all his might, but couldn't make a ripple.
So... it still doesn't work?
The edge of consciousness began to darken, and Phelps's laughter faded into the distance.
Dominic seemed to see his family crest, the Gemstone decaying and disintegrating in space, and the horrific sight of countless soldiers turning into Plague Zombie.
His resentment burned like fire, but there was nothing he could do.
Just as consciousness was about to completely dissipate, in the Machine God outside, a silver-haired figure walked slowly to the throne amidst the arcs of electricity.
Sorine's black robes fluttered wildly in the electric arcs, and her silver-gray hair danced wildly in the lightning.
A small, sanctuary of Psychic Power stretched out around her, but the raging electric currents of her Machine Spirit continued to assault her defenses, causing waves of stinging pain.
She didn't pause.
She walked up to Dominic and raised her right hand.
With a hint of pink Psychic Power light emanating from her fingertips, she gently touched Dominic's forehead from a distance of only inches.
At the same moment, on the third basement level of Saint Garus Castle, amidst the raging battlefield, a light pink system notification popped up before Lynn's eyes.
[Intermediary soul anchor point detected; target Machine Spirit consciousness can connect]
[Should I take Domination of the target's consciousness by pursuing Sorine?]
[WARNING: Consciousness takeover carries unknown risks and requires simultaneous intervention from the host's will]
Lynn stood at the highest point of the firing position, his gaze sweeping over the ever-charging Chaos army below, a slight smile playing on his lips.
risk?
From the day he took over Brevis, every single day he's been walking a tightrope over a precipice.
"Take over."
He silently uttered two words in his mind.
The moment the words fell, a burst of purple light suddenly erupted deep within Dominic's consciousness, atop the Throne of the Orbital Machine Spirit!
The consciousness, which was originally as faint as a firefly, erupted with a raging purple flame at this moment!
Like a blazing purple sun, rising from the steel wasteland.
The swarm of moths that had swarmed onto Dominic didn't even last half a second before being swept away by the purple light. Devoured, dissolved, without leaving a trace.
A violent purple beam of light shot straight into the sky, tearing a huge gap in the decaying green clouds.
Within the pillar of light, a slender humanoid phantom slowly rose, its long hair flying wildly in the Psychic Power wind, its features delicate, yet its eyes held a commanding presence that seemed to look down upon all things.
The phantom lowered its head, glanced at the astonished moths flying all over the sky, then looked at the frozen ghost face in the distance, and a slightly mocking smile appeared on its lips.
The next second, he raised his right hand, and a bone-white giant sword more than four meters long slowly condensed in the void.
The sword spine is composed of layers of vertebrae, and the blade glows with a pale purple Psychic Power, a projection that imitates Rena's spine greatsword.
"Oh, isn't this one of the big moth's lackeys?"
Lynn's voice was tinged with laughter, but her sharp words stung Phelps's mind.
"Don't rush off, let me introduce myself."
With a flick of his wrist, the greatsword pointed diagonally at the sky, and purple Psychic Power surged wildly along the blade, causing even the surrounding space to ripple with fine wrinkles.
That power possessed both the shadowy quality of a Hive Mind to devour everything, and an absolute sense of Domination that was irresistible and inviolable.
"I am,"
He held the sword with both hands, raising it high.
Lynn Corwana.
The moment he finished speaking, he swung his sword!
There are no fancy moves; it's just the simplest and most direct vertical chop.
But when this sword fell, the entire Machine Spirit World seemed to tremble.
The purple sword mark resembled a crack that stretched across the heavens and earth. Wherever it passed, the putrid green rain instantly evaporated, and the rusted earth revealed its metallic base color once more.
The countless plague moths, before they could even scream, were wiped out in droves by the devouring power of the sword blade.
Phelps mustered all his strength to suppress the swarm of plague moths that he had gathered to suppress the Machine Spirit, but with just one sword strike, a third of them were wiped out!
"No!!!"
The ghost face let out an extremely shrill wail, and the moths that made up its face scattered wildly, then barely managed to reassemble.
His previous arrogant tone vanished, replaced by disbelief and terror.
That's impossible!
How could a mere mortal possibly possess such a level of consciousness power?!
What exactly is that purple flame? It can even directly devour and Domination the plague power of the Grandfather!
But Lynn didn't give him time to think it over.
After slashing with his sword, the phantom stood holding the sword, looking down at the still-shaken Phelps below, a hint of playful amusement in his smile.
"You're shouting so loudly as soon as we meet."
"Don't rush, there's more for you to call later."
That's what they said, but Lynn's brows furrowed slightly.
He actually couldn't quite control himself.
This consciousness projection had just entered the Machine Spirit World, and before it had fully grasped the limits of this world's capacity, it almost instinctively twisted the Shadow in the Warp together with the Power of Domination and cleaved it out.
While the sword light tore apart the plague, the excess power, like an out-of-control torrent, slammed heavily onto the very earth that was the origin of the Machine Spirit.
The metallic wasteland beneath my feet trembled.
Dense cracks spread outwards from the sword mark, like a steel plate struck by a heavy hammer, with silver-gray energy emanating from the deep ravines.
That was a sign that the essence of the Machine Spirit was damaged.
The Thunder deep in the clouds went completely out of control, and the blue and white lightning that had been battling the moths darted around wildly.
Some collided and exploded into Skyfire, while others struck the intact ground directly, creating charred craters.
The entire Machine Spirit world was shaking, like a ship that had lost control in Warp Storm.
Lynn's phantom hovered in mid-air, the purple light at the tip of the sword slowly receding.
The cost of damaging the Machine Spirit is by no means small.
In the naval system of Imperium of Man, warships are never just cold piles of steel.
Every capital ship that has served for over a thousand years has developed its own Machine Spirit through long voyages and battles.
It serves as the benchmark for weapon calibration, the scheduler of energy circuits, the first line of defense against the whispers of Chaos during Warp travel, and the anchor of morale and faith for all crew members on the entire warship.
Even if they defeat Phelps, but cripple the Gemstone's Machine Spirit, the consequences would only be slightly better than a plague outbreak.
At best, the fire control system will malfunction, the power output will be unstable, and the ship's overall combat capability will drop by 30%.
In severe cases, the core circuit may be paralyzed on a large scale, the warship may be slightly paralyzed, and even normal navigation may be difficult.
Even more fatally, the frail Machine Spirit has almost no resistance to Warp.
Let alone traversing the Warp route, even just approaching the Chaos Fleet would allow the ship to be easily permeated by Warp energy. At that point, the entire ship would slowly decay on its own without the enemy even lifting a finger.
Lynn would never do a deal that would result in the loss of eight hundred of his own men in order to kill a thousand enemies.
"Looks like I'll have to hold back a bit."