Chapter 899 - 898: Horus Will Think This Is the Price We Paid for Our Relentless Advance

Aboard the Shadow's Sovereignty, in the Primarch's office.

Nareth leaned back against his throne, having heard the reports of Chief Librarian Thomas and High Chaplain Pat.

'Twenty-five Alpha Legionnaires… Alpharius and Omegon, you certainly know how to seize an opportunity!'

'Fortunately, I was prepared. Using Omegon's blood, I created a device to identify Alphas.'

After a few seconds of thought, he spoke. "Conduct a full Legion-wide investigation. Find every infiltrator."

He sent Pat a mental pulse: "You and your Court Counts will 'Guide their Dreams,' making them believe they are loyal to me, that they are my spies, but that they have earned Alpharius's trust."

Nareth didn't execute the Alphas immediately. He didn't want to alert Alpharius and Omegon, and he wanted to use them to mislead the twin Primarchs, and even Horus.

Pat's eyes gleamed. He imagined Alpharius and Omegon walking into a trap, their shock and despair.

'Thank goodness I didn't act on my own. It would have jeopardized my Lord's plan.'

He bowed with the others. "By Your will."

"My Lord." Arsena glanced at his datapad. "I have compiled the Legion's casualties on the Murder. We lost one thousand four hundred and ninety-three."

"Of these, the Tenth Chapter suffered the most, with eight hundred and fifty-two."

Nareth nodded. The three Blood Angels companies had been annihilated. Sanguinius's five companies had lost over four hundred.

'The Luna Wolves, as the main force in the southern hemisphere, lost over two thousand. Because of my intervention, the six-month campaign was shortened to three.

'The Luna Wolves, who bore the brunt of the fighting, lost far fewer men.'

"Report to the Warmaster that we lost three thousand six hundred and twenty-five."

"I believe he will see that as the price we paid for our relentless advance, outrunning even the Luna Wolves," Arsena said, his tone sardonic.

Arsena noted the command, then continued.

"A delegation of tax collectors from Terra has arrived. They carry the seal of the Council of Terra, bearing the Regent's orders."

"The Warmaster requests your presence on the Vengeful Spirit, along with Lord Sanguinius, to meet the delegation's leader, Eaxector Aenid Rathbone."

Nareth nodded. "I understand."

After the others left, an ethereal, layered prayer reached his ears.

He rose from his throne.

Out of sight, he stepped into the Kingdom of Disorder.

Taking his throne in the fourth layer, he extended his spirituality, touching a pulsing, glowing orb.

Maria and Dementieva, the "Pleasures," knelt before a pyre, their hands clasped in an inverted hold, praying.

The advancement ritual for "Affliction" was as he remembered: to be burned alive on a pyre for a quarter of an hour, without a proxy.

Its essence was the continuous creation of intense pain, to prevent the beyonder's mind from being lost in ecstasy.

Advancing to "Affliction" was a painful process, only slightly less agonizing than the soul-tearing and reforming of the "Shepherd" potion.

Nareth looked down at the megarachnids in the first layer's palace.

He passed over the builder-spiders with their shovel-like limbs. They were the equivalent of worker bees, the foundation of the hive, but also the weakest, and would make the poorest potion.

His gaze settled on the large builder-spiders' spinnerets. "Using these will give the aspiring 'Affliction' stronger 'Threads' abilities."

He turned his gaze to the black flying spiders.

"Using these will make them more agile... hmm, perhaps there are other benefits. Freddy didn't give them a chance to show their full potential."

After a brief consideration, Nareth made his decision. With a thought, a black flying spider and a builder-spider flew from the palace, landing before the towering furnace.

The Jokaero immediately set to work, concocting the Sequence 5 "Affliction" potion.

Moments later, he dropped the "Affliction" potion, made from the black flying megarachnid, through the ethereal gate.

Potsdam, Akum-Sothos Cluster.

After Pezela had fallen into an exhausted sleep, Maria, the "Pleasure," slipped from the Planetary Governor's palace.

She met Dementieva at the wasteland where she had erected the pyre, following the Black Emperor's command, and knelt in prayer.

The ethereal gate opened. Black mist surged. A vial of potion flew out, landing in Maria's hand.

A majestic figure appeared in the darkness. The Black Emperor's voice of "Majesty" spoke.

"Dementieva, bind Maria to the pyre. Have her drink the potion, then ignite the flames. Keep it burning for fifteen minutes."

Maria's body trembled. "My Lord, have I displeased You?"

"This is not a punishment," the voice of "Majesty" came from within the gate.

"It is the necessary cost of gaining power."

"Only then can your body bear the power I am granting you."

The voice of "Majesty" stilled her trembling. Her fear was gone.

Maria rose, walking towards the pyre like a pilgrim to a holy land.

Dementieva lifted the even-strand, black-gold chains, prepared on the Black Emperor's command, and bound Maria to the stake.

She took the potion from Maria's hand and glanced at it.

It was like dark red blood, but quickly turned black. It sometimes bubbled with sickly green foam.

Gulp!

As the potion slid down her throat, images of past pleasures flashed through Maria's mind: On "Terra," with Admiral Raspadori of House Costis.

....

Dementieva saw Maria's face flush as she fell into a strange ecstasy.

She didn't hesitate. She raised a flamer, aiming at the pyre.

Crackle...

The flames ignited the promethium. The fire leaped.

Maria's body blazed. Her black dress turned to ash in an instant.

"Ah!" Maria screamed. The images of pleasure faded. As the pain of burning consumed her, she slowly regained her senses.

Fifteen minutes later, Dementieva raised her hand. Frost spread, dousing the flames.

She dropped the flamer and approached the pyre.

She reached out, carefully touching Maria's body. To her surprise, her skin was even smoother and more delicate than before, as soft as a newborn's.

Maria stepped down from the pyre. "My Lord would not deceive us."

"The pain brought me back from the pleasure. I have been granted new power."

A vial of dark red potion flew from the mist, landing in Dementieva's outstretched hand.

"Now it's your turn."

Dementieva, with a mixture of fear and eager anticipation, walked towards the pyre.