Screams enveloped the 'Ghost of Destruction' battle barge that was sailing along the tide of subspace. Thousands of people were nailed to the outside of the hull and hung alive.
When the battleship passed from the cold physical universe into the warm embrace of the divine realm, they were still alive - to a certain extent.
Their death stretched endlessly into an eternal agony, with demons possessing their bodies in droves, following the battleships closely, sucking out human pain and sanity as their bodies and souls were shattered.
Viewed from the top, the spear-shaped hull of the 'Destruction Ghost' seems to be wrapped in a wriggling shell of chitin and rotten flesh, with red flames burning at a slow pace, accompanied by tortured screams and demonic satisfaction as it feeds 's trumpet.
"sacred..."
A whisper rang in the mind of Chaos Sorcerer Garon Sulet
"truth......"
The wizard nodded.
"Glory to the four eternal gods who encompass all things,"
He loudly continued the prayer that had not stopped since the 'Ghost of Destruction' broke through the physical universe and entered the sacred realm.
“Glory be to the eternal and immortal Eightfold Truth.”
He sat in the middle of a black glass floor, right in front of the tower's large observation window.
Eight people with hidden faces were holding incense burners, and incense rose from the burners. Under the robes of each attendant was a pile of mutated and corrupted flesh.
These people hid their blessings and dedicated their sight and hearing to serve Garon Sulet.
Garon Sulet, a former member of the Word Bearers, killed dozens of his comrades in order to study black magic. He was eventually exiled by the Legion and became a notorious guy in the Eye of Terror.
For the mortals who were able to serve at his side, it was a blessing beyond imagination, both in terms of revelation and sacrifice.
It would have been too much for the souls of the attendants to look into his face, or hear his secret words.
Further back is the only door to the secret room of the tower, with two hunched-over figures standing next to it.
The red velvet cloak covered the whole body from head to toe and was dragged to the surrounding floor, and the two people remained motionless.
Candles made of human fat, blood and bones hung above their heads. Black emblems were carved on the candles, and candle tears dripped to the ground as the flames burned.
He wandered and thought, knowing that the whisper in his ears was true.
The wizard stood up from where he was sitting on the floor, without his robes or armor.
In his moments of meditation, Garon Sulet always chose to remember that he was made of flesh and blood, and that when he stood up, his muscles quivered smoothly, from his neck to his toes.
His skin is tattooed with markings from many extinct civilizations over the past few thousand years - both human and alien, and Garon Sulet can speak the language of any of them.
For a Chaos Sorcerer, knowledge is power is not just a myth, it is real.
He covered his face with his hands and shielded his eyes for a while.
"soul....."
He felt a call from the divine realm and received an answer.
Ethereal black smoke condensed around him, as blurry as water droplets and ink smearing on parchment.
Shadows with faces gathered and swirled in large numbers, screaming with silent pain, uttering cries and words of resentment, and his mind was filled with whispers. ,
"Who are you?"
"I don't want to die——"
The cry of a poor man was ignored by Garon Sulet, who continued to search for answers.
"Who are you?"
"Oh, please have mercy—"
Another unlucky guy, just ignore it.
"Who are you?"
"The Unborn."
"What did you say?"
"Your destruction——"
"Then shut up."
Garon Sulet commanded, as the shadow beside him stretched out ghostly fingers - their touch streaked across his skin, icy fire burning through the flesh.
"Your destruction is near."
The voice rang directly in his head.
"We remember..."
"The dead are remembered..."
Garon Sulet clenched his teeth, the pain in his body was like a supernova explosion, and his brain felt like nails were driven into it - there was nothing worse than being cursed by the warp.
More importantly, he didn't know where this threat came from.
Could it be the poor little planet and small war group they were about to destroy?
Unknowingly, a layer of armor formed on Garon Sulet's skin.
Soon, the ceramite armor plates, pauldrons and gauntlets gradually took shape as the shadow enveloped him, and circuits and fiber bundles interacted with his nervous system.
Finally, the crimson armor covered him entirely, except for his head.
"disperse."
The shadows fade away, returning to the sacred realm, leaving only the echoes of hatred and resentment.
The curse he had been enduring had also disappeared from his body, so he bowed his head and thanked God for his blessing.
Finally, he turned around and came to the wall of the secret room. His helmet was placed on the top layer of the weapon rack, shaped into an angry roar on one side and a cold mockery on the other.
His weak comrades once called him "Two-Face."
Like his skin, a large number of symbols were printed on the copper-colored helmet, his eyes were like coals burning in a furnace, sharp silver teeth formed a big mouth, and two long horns glowing with obsidian protruded from his forehead.
He wore it at all times except for brief moments of solitary meditation.
Garon Sulet reached out and picked up the helmet, feeling the malice emanating from it and the taste of blood on his tongue.
Then he put the helmet on his head, and the internal barbs immediately pierced his cheeks, and the breathing tube was automatically connected to his armor.
As he breathed, the scent of incense filled the air, strange runes swirled in his eyes, and colors and lines that mortals couldn't see appeared in the room.
"coming...."
Garon Sulet muttered to himself as he realized something was approaching.
As the door that separated the tower sanctuary was opened, Garon Sulet turned and bent down, and the people wrapped in red robes knelt down one after another.
These red waiters could neither hear the door open nor see who came in, but the pressure of the visitor was enough to make them kneel on the ground.
'Black-Hearted King' Huron paused for a moment at the threshold. The huge claws on his left hand flashed with a mysterious black light, and a scarlet armor full of cracks covered his body.
If it weren't for his expression, he would have looked like a defeated warrior.
Although the gods gave him a new life, they also left the mark of his failure on his body. This cracked armor was one of them, and it also became Huron's prison - the tyrant could only survive in a world full of dark energy. The armor will fall apart once you leave.
In the inhuman vision, Huron's existence is radiant. It is not the wild rage that envelopes the sons of Khorne, nor is it the primitive etheric power of the wizard of Tzeentch, nor is it the smoke of Nurgle. The stench is certainly not the sultry fragrance of Slaanesh.
It was a primitive force.
Apart from this, Garon Sulet could not detect anything else.
"Ha, please forgive me for interrupting your ceremony."
"The ceremony is over, my lord."
Huron walked up to him and closed his eyes briefly.
"We have been sailing for a whole week, and we will arrive at the edge of the Nessen system in two days. There we will give that madman a lesson and remind the empire of our existence again."
In addition to half of the Red Pirates' forces, two-thirds of the main fleet was dispatched this time, including a dozen capital ships and countless small battleships, including the battlecruiser 'Hook'.
Huron was determined to win this time.
Suddenly, the tyrant stopped talking and walked towards the observation porthole. The dizzying subspace light danced outside.
For a moment, Garon Surlet wondered what Huron saw in his eyes.
The sacred realm is a mirror to the soul, and everyone who dares to look into it sees something different.
When Garon Sulet looked into the warp, he saw only ghosts, something he had given up questioning a long time ago.
"They must be vulnerable."
The wizard said slightly flatteringly.
"No."
Huron shook his head.
"I feel that things are not that simple. Although I am not a wizard like you, and I don't understand prophecies or visions, subspace often confides some secrets to me. Although I will ignore most of them, there are some... ..It’s not that simple.”
As Huron turned to Gallon Sulet, the dancing ghosts were reflected in the wizard's eyes,
"do you understand?"
Garon Surlet lowered his head, thinking a lot.
"Master, what can I do for you?"
Huron turned back, and Garon Sulet could feel the chill and heat intertwining on the other person's body, seeming to melt into the shadows.
"The subspace is so peaceful. It's so peaceful that it scares me. I have a hunch that something is happening... We have to prepare in advance."
As he spoke, the overlord of the maelstrom actually sighed, which was an extremely rare gesture.
"Send a message to the Eyes of Hell to ask them to be more alert and allow them to move to subspace if necessary."
"Yes, Master."
At this moment, a soldier hurriedly walked in and brought extremely bad news.
"Master, the astropaths of Nasir Votek's fleet just sent a message. They ran into the fleet of the Astral Knights on the edge of the maelstrom! And it was the main fleet. They destroyed Nasir Votk and him. Most of his subordinates only--"
Before he could finish his words, Huron's sharp claws pierced his chest hard, and then threw him away.
"Soshyan, I@￥##&@*!!!!!"
A series of curses compiled in low Gothic echoed for a long time on the deck of the Ghost of Destruction...
