Chapter 944 - 943: I Punished the Heretical Sinners Who Blasphemed Against You

The mechanical leg of Ohthere Wyrdmake, the Rune Priest of the 5th Great Company of the Space Wolves, crushed the rubble beneath it as he walked proudly through the ruins.

'All evil sorcerers should be destroyed. Today, it is the Thousand Sons and Prospero.'

'Soon, it will be the Shadows of Order and Nareth and Sanchez!'

He tightened his grip on the golden staff in his hand.

Wyrdmake's cold gaze suddenly shifted, landing on the tactical display.

Rows of iron-gray runes rapidly disappeared.

Hundreds of crimson runes immediately swept across the display, finally turning into a crimson number:

'Four hundred and twenty-five!'

'The Thousand Sons have joined the battle?' Wyrdmake thought.

In an instant, the 5th Great Company's casualties had surpassed all the losses they had suffered since the Wolves landed.

Such casualties could never have been caused by mortals. They must have been the result of evil sorcery.

Just as he was thinking this, the roar of his Wolf Lord, Amlodi Skarsen Skarsensson, suddenly rang out through the communications channel.

"Brothers everyone attack!"

A blizzard of static interference flooded the entire communications channel.

Wyrdmake frowned deeply. He raised his head, his yellow, bloodshot eyes gazing into the distance.

He looked toward the direction where flames were soaring into the sky and continued walking forward.

Wyrdmake had taken only two steps when he suddenly stopped.

He abruptly turned around and looked back in the direction he had come from.

"Lord?" one of the Blood Claws beside him asked in confusion.

They had already followed the Rune Priest's orders and torn apart every Spire Guard and civilian they encountered.

Wherever they passed, only burning ruins remained.

The Rune Priest suddenly swung his golden staff, and a violent vortex erupted out of nowhere among the ruins.

The vortex spun faster and faster, instantly ripping five buildings apart. Burning pieces of rubble crackled as they were hurled through the air.

Boom, boom, boom!

Dull impacts rang out.

The Blood Claws followed the sound with their eyes.

Within the vortex, a red-armored warrior was being dragged wildly in every direction, while burning rubble repeatedly slammed into his armor.

"Thousand Son!"

Wyrdmake shook his golden staff, causing the bone charms hanging from it to jingle.

The vortex suddenly exploded.

The Thousand Son fell straight down, crashing heavily into the ground.

With a thunderous roar, his armor shattered, and splattering blood burst outward.

The Blood Claws bared their fangs and closed in around the Thousand Son.

The Thousand Son suddenly leaped to his feet.

The wounds on his body vanished in an instant.

The Blood Claws' bodies twisted and convulsed.

The oxygen-rich blood within their bodies rapidly vaporized.

Flames fed by their own burning blood licked across their visors, and the Blood Claws collapsed one after another.

Wyrdmake stared at the figure before him, clad in armor far more ornate than that of the other Thousand Sons and wielding a gleaming curved blade.

"Hathor Maat!"

Hathor stared intently at Wyrdmake.

The scene of the Nicaean amphitheater flashed through his mind: Wyrdmake accusing the Shadows of Order and the Black Emperor of committing crimes.

'Heretic!'

"You are the first prey of my hunt, and the finest sacrifice I could possibly find."

Hathor's eyes instantly turned obsidian black.

"I shall represent my Lord and bring down divine punishment!"

"When did Magnus's whelp become such a weakling who does nothing but chant prayers?" Wyrdmake sneered.

Hathor laughed mockingly.

He swung his staff, and lightning surged forth.

Wyrdmake raised his staff high, and a vortex began swirling around his body.

The raging wind lifted hundreds, even thousands, of broken bricks, forming a thick shield around him.

Bolts of electricity shot into the storm shield like spears, piercing straight through the rubble and raging winds.

Bang!

The lightning spear struck the iron-gray armor, destroying two bone charms.

Wyrdmake's body trembled.

He knew that the evil sorcery wielded by the Thousand Sons' chief librarian was far more powerful than the storm powers at his command.

He drew his chainaxe and pressed his thumb firmly against the activation rune.

Wyrdmake raised the chainaxe high and charged toward Hathor with a roar.

Hathor's eyes flashed.

He repeatedly swung his staff, projecting bolts of lightning.

Boom, boom, boom!

One bone charm after another exploded, fragments scattering everywhere and leaving charred marks across the iron-gray armor.

Wyrdmake lunged in front of the Thousand Son and swung the chainaxe down with all his strength.

Illusory dragon scales appeared across Hathor's left arm.

He raised his brilliant curved blade to meet the attack.

BOOM!

At the moment of impact, the Space Wolf's arm went numb.

The Thousand Son's strength was far greater than he had anticipated.

"Sorcery!" Wyrdmake roared disdainfully.

He howled and swung the chainaxe down again.

A flash of brilliant light suddenly leaped upward.

The curved blade, striking faster than the axe despite being drawn later, slashed across Wyrdmake's chest.

Blood sprayed outward, but before it could even touch the ornate armor, it burned away completely.

Hathor stared at the body of the Space Wolf as it crashed heavily to the ground.

'How laughable. Space Wolf, you don't know that when my Lord bestowed upon me the Visionary Pathway my strength and speed were greatly enhanced.

'You are far weaker than I expected.'

'I haven't even used the more powerful abilities my Lord granted me.'

As Hathor pondered this, he planted his staff and curved blade into the ground.

He clasped his hands together, palms facing inward, and looked up toward the sky.

'My Lord, I have punished the heretical sinner who blasphemed against You.'

After silently praying for eleven heartbeats, he released his hands and pulled his weapons from the ground.

Hathor had just taken a step forward when a thought pulse shot toward him.

He sensed the presence of Baleq Uthizzar and accepted the psychic link.

The "Dreamwalker" carefully guarded his own mind and the secrets of the Black Emperor, opening only a limited portion of his consciousness.

"Hathor, your plan is proceeding in an orderly manner.

"We are using the teleportation gates to appear inside buildings that the Wolves have not destroyed, forming a pincer around them from the rear and both sides.

"All the Thousand Sons have entered a low-level state of mind, preventing anger from taking away their reason. Every time the Wolves launch a counterattack, we disappear, then concentrate our forces on their weak points."

"I also have some good news for you. During one of our counterattacks in the old city, we discovered that the Gray Hunter commanders of two hunting packs had been decapitated.

"After communicating with all the Magister Templis, I confirmed that the attack did not come from any of them."

Hathor's eyes lit up.

"Amon's Hidden Ones."

Amon's Ninth Fellowship was composed entirely of the Hidden Ones.

They were exceptionally skilled at using psychic spells to infiltrate their enemies.

Although the Primarch's Equerry would obey no one's commands except those of their father, their participation was undoubtedly a powerful force.

More importantly, the Primarch's Equerry taking part in the battle might mean that their father's attitude was beginning to change.

He intended to avenge himself alongside his sons against the invaders.

"Uthizzar, contact the Primarch."

"Ask him to join us."

"I understand," Uthizzar replied.

....

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