Lynn muttered something to himself, the phantom image of the greatsword hanging beside him swaying in the wind.
The originally raging purple Psychic Power began to contract inward, transforming from a towering wave into fine, hair-like strands of purple light that spread evenly along the blade.
Each wisp of light carried the attributes of devouring and Domination, but it no longer spread recklessly; instead, it condensed precisely within three meters of the sword's edge.
The moment he finished adjusting, Lynn slightly turned his wrist and swung the second sword diagonally.
This time there was no earth-shattering roar, nor a sword mark that pierced the heavens and the earth.
Only a thin, almost invisible band of purple light, like the sharpest scalpel, sliced across the boundary between the moth swarm and the clouds.
Wherever it passed, plague moths Annihilation in swathes, not even a trace of plague power escaped.
When the light streak brushed past the clouds that were the source of the Machine Spirit, it only touched them lightly before withdrawing, without leaking even a trace of excess energy.
Just as Phelps managed to steady his crumbling face, he felt another deadly force approaching.
He instinctively urged the moths to block, but he didn't expect that this seemingly gentle sword strike would be even sharper than before.
The outer layer of moths melted like spider silk in fire, and the sword light pierced straight in, once again shaving off nearly one-tenth of his strength.
What alarmed him even more was that this time, the opponent's strength was terrifyingly precise.
All the damage landed precisely on the plague consciousness, without affecting even a fraction of the surrounding Machine Spirit energy.
"Impossible..."
The grotesque face twisted and hissed, its outline formed by moths flickering in and out of focus.
Having been infected by the Machine Spirit for so long, he knows best how fragile the consciousness barrier of this world is. Even if he doesn't control the direction of the plague's spread, it will still damage the Machine Spirit's origin.
But how could this suddenly appearing purple figure control its power to such an extent?
What he didn't know was that the Machine Spirit itself had also moved.
This steel beast, which had been unruly for over a thousand years, still retained its most basic judgment, even though its mind had been clouded by the plague.
It could sense that although the initial burst of violent purple light had hurt it, it was never its target.
But those emerald green moths are the real mortal enemies that devour its flesh and blood and erode its soul.
Especially when the purple sword light precisely annihilated the moth without touching its essence, the Machine Spirit's hostility instantly diminished considerably.
The Thunder that had been darting wildly through the clouds began to recombine.
Instead of indiscriminate slashing, streaks of blue-white Lightning, as thick as a wrist, seemed to have eyes, specifically targeting the densest swarms of Phelps ' moths.
With Thunder and purple light attacking from both inside and outside, the number of moths decreased sharply at a visible rate.
Phelps panicked completely.
He was originally in a remnant soul state, relying on the Rust Plague to take root deep within the Machine Spirit, both consuming the Machine Spirit's essence to grow stronger and maintaining his advantage through the ever-spreading plague.
The more the Machine Spirit resisted, the more it was able to use the opponent's energy to spread corrosion, growing stronger like a snowball.
But things are different now.
The purple figure's power possessed a strange Domination attribute; it would simply wipe out any plague it encountered, without giving back even a trace of energy.
The Machine Spirit seemed to have suddenly gained insight, Thunder deliberately targeted his weak points, clearly intending to join forces with the "outsider" to kill him first.
He needs to be distracted by maintaining the deep-seated plague anchor point to prevent himself from being completely eradicated.
They had to withstand Lynn's precise slashes head-on while also dodging the Machine Spirit's Thunder bombardment.
Besieged on three sides, the already limited remnant soul power was rapidly depleted.
"Despicable! You lackey of the False Emperor! If you have the guts, fight me one-on-one!"
Phelps roared in exasperation, and the swarm of moths surged wildly, trying to rush close to Lynn's phantom at the cost of their own lives, hoping to use the power of the plague to corrode him at close range.
But Lynn didn't give him a chance at all.
The greatsword wielded by his spine danced like a butterfly flitting among flowers, each strike faster and more precise than the last.
The purple sword light wove a tight, impenetrable net; any moth that got within three zhang (approximately 10 meters) would be instantly shredded into nothingness.
He didn't even need to move; he stood in mid-air, and no matter how much Phelps charged at him, he couldn't break through the purple sword curtain.
With each sword strike, Phelps's aura weakened.
The swarm of plague moths, which had initially formed a dense, overwhelming green cloud, gradually thinned and thinned until only a few hundred remained.
They fluttered anxiously around the blurry humanoid outline in the center.
On the ground, the dark green mold spots receded rapidly, like the tide going out.
The corroded and brittle metal earth once again revealed its cold, hard, silvery-gray base color. The rust liquid in the ravines evaporated little by little, transforming back into pure Machine Spirit energy that flowed back underground.
The rotten green clouds in the sky gradually dispersed, revealing the dark gray background of the clouds once again.
The Thunder in the clouds changed from a sickly dark green back to a clear blue-white, and its roar carried a more defiant and confident tone.
The moment the last swarm of moths was shredded by the purple sword light, the whole world fell silent.
Phelps's consciousness was fully revealed.
He could no longer maintain the shape of the moth-faced demon, and was left only as a blurry human outline.
The tattered body was pockmarked and uneven, the plague emblem on its chest was dim and lifeless, and where its head was, there were only two murky green lights, flickering like candles in the wind.
He staggered and half-knelt in the air, his figure so weak that it seemed he would disintegrate at any moment.
The murky green light stared intently at the purple phantom in mid-air, its interior churning with fear, resentment, and a deep-seated disbelief.
"What kind of monster are you...?"
His voice was extremely weak, each word carrying the discordant noises of a collapsing consciousness:
"A newly born evil god from the Warp? How could the Grandfather not know?"
Lynn did not answer immediately.
He hovered in mid-air, the phantom of the greatsword slowly dissipating in his palm, but his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.
Phelps ' question is precisely the same question that's on his mind right now.
When did things start to get increasingly strange?
At first, the system simply issued strategy guides and missions, and he used the system to recruit people like Rena and Sorine.
But as his affection for Rena grew, he gradually noticed many unusual things.
At night, he would have bizarre dreams, dreams of boundless, colorful universes, and countless whispers calling his name.
When he was conscious, he could occasionally feel a strange pull when he was near places with abundant Warp energy.
This time, the system directly displayed the " Domination " option.
It's not about winning someone over or increasing their affection; it's about blatant, mind- Domination.
It can even directly access and control the consciousness of non-human beings like the warship's Machine Spirit.
An absurd yet logical guess emerged uncontrollably.
Could it be... that the so-called system is actually his own Warp Essence?
He wasn't chosen by the system; rather, he inherently possessed some kind of Warp power, and the system was merely a manifestation of that power.
The moment the thought crossed Lynn's mind, a chill ran down her spine.
In the Warhammer 40,000 universe, getting too involved with the Warp is never a good thing.
Under the watchful eyes of the four gods, humanity was lost, and they ultimately became playthings of Chaos...
Such examples are countless in the Imperium's heretical archives.
If one day his "true nature" fully awakens, will he still be the Lynn Corvana he is now?
Taking a deep breath, Lynn suppressed the turmoil in his heart.
At least for now, everything is still under control.
The system did not go out of control, his will was not twisted, and he was still the ordinary person who wanted to protect Brevis and live well with his lover in this dark age.
As for what happens in the future... we'll talk about that later.