40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 665 47. Belated Judgment (XVIII)

Coughing up blood, the wizard walked slowly towards an altar. It was dark all around without any light. Only this strange stone tower emitted a dark blue light.

He was injured, although not seriously, but the energy wrapped around the wound was very troublesome. At least in the short term, the wizard did not have the extra energy to deal with it, he had more important things to do right now.

"It won't be that hard to change the time." Serafax heard himself say. "Just try it once more, or a few more times. Success is only a matter of time."

The wizard knew that this idea was correct, but he did not agree with it.

The god who rose from the corpse of the Emperor has already set his sights on Caliban. For such a being, no matter how many timelines there are, they are completely useless.

The transcendence of gods is the foundation of their existence. These beings are independent of the material world. No matter what happens in the mortal world, it is impossible to cause any real "harm" to them. At best, it is just an impact.

If you look closely, even the act of resisting them will only give them more power. The only ones who can impose some restrictions on them are themselves.

"What are you going to do?" Serafax heard himself ask.

The wizard reached out his hand, passed through the blazing blue flames on top of the altar, and accurately grasped a piece of human bone.

It was a rib of his own, taken from him centuries before he stepped into Caliban, and after the careful carving and blood sacrifice of nine wise men, it became the magic weapon it is today. It has the color of glass and a smooth surface, and the thousands of characters carved on it are like living things, constantly twisting and changing positions on its surface, without stopping for a moment.

The wizard raised it in front of him, holding both ends with both hands, and the robe immediately fluttered. The invisible wind blew the robe into a flutter, but the characters on the surface of the bone suddenly stopped moving.
It was not until several minutes later that the wizard lowered his arm and put the piece of bone that belonged to him back to its original place. The flame continued to burn brightly.

"This is unheard of," Serafax heard himself say worriedly. "Nine times of foretelling, nine times of asking, nine times of extinction."

The wizard limped down the altar, walking very slowly, almost staggering. He lowered his head, and his face, which had been burning all along, now returned to normal, at least it seemed so.

This face bears little resemblance to the former knight captain. Instead, it is more like what Serafax looked like when he first joined the legion—a red-haired young man with freckles all over his face, his facial features still retaining a hint of childishness.

But his eyes were dead.

"Your plan is very thorough, but unfortunately, it's not enough." Serafax heard himself sighing. "The warband is being destroyed 25% faster than calculated. Sooner or later, the incarnation of killing will tear open this maze-like time turbulence and catch you."

"Even if we ignore the blade that is now on your neck, how will you deal with the 'protection' sent by the god? Zabril may not have any merits, but he is still a dark angel."

The wizard stopped walking, his robes fluttering. He sat down silently, like a tired man coming down the mountain, on the wide stone steps. There was silence all around, and no sound could be heard in the darkness, even though the fire was burning in the brazier.

"But you still have a chance." Serafax heard himself speak slowly. "The Lord of Change desires change. He will not stand by and watch you make a hopeless plan."

"The praise He expressed to you may have been ninety-nine percent malicious, but there was also that last bit of sincerity."

"He has spent so much effort to allow you to go back to the past and implement your plan. Now you are not even close to success. How could He allow you to fail? Think about it carefully. There must be a way out."

The wizard frowned and actually began to think.

At first, he had no idea what to do, and just focused on wandering in his mind. The meditation habit he inherited as a Dark Angel easily transformed into some indescribable power after he embarked on the "bright" path of Chaos Wizard.

All the past events floated up at this moment, floating like catkins on the deep blue ocean he imagined, while his soul passed by quickly like a point of light.
"It's right here." Suddenly, Serafax heard himself muttering. "Do you see it?"

Of course the wizard saw it - deep in his memory, in the darkness when the glory of the Great Crusade had faded, hope was extinguished, love and hate were no longer meaningful, and only blood, sacrifice and human screams remained, he actually saw a real key.

A silver key, made up of nine sections of metal, each section rotating at a different speed.

Just by looking at it, the wizard found himself dizzy to his disbelief. This feeling did not come from his body, but from his soul.
This should have been impossible, as his soul had long since become a bargaining chip in the hands of the Lord of Change. However, now, this key was giving him a new kind of power.

In other words, status.

“Transcendence!” Serafax heard himself scream.

"Yes." Another voice responded at length.

Who is speaking? This question does not even need an answer.

"Yes." Tzeentch said in a gentle tone that was almost eerie. "Transcendence."

The key, the door, the answer, the hope, the question itself, nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine different lights, the wailing human face, the wise man born from the storm.
Countless scenes flashed before the wizard's eyes. He knelt down in sweat, his robes completely soaked - this was extremely strange. First, he had lost the ability to secrete sweat, and second, his robes had become immune to many rules of the mortal world.

But the fact is the fact, he was sweating, his robes were so wet that they looked like they were floating in a river.

Tzeentch smiled at him.

A genuine god, standing before him, in his mind, vivid in his memory.

"Serafax, you still have a chance."

The wizard stared at Him with his mouth wide open. Just looking at Him, his mind was blank. He had lost the ability to think. This was the consequence of looking directly at a god. Even though Tzeentch was only using the key to briefly reveal a partial form, even though He had no ill will towards him.
But the wizard is not dead yet, quite the contrary in fact.

He is rising in rank.

A smile slowly appeared on Tzeentch's face, which could hardly be called a 'face'. Countless dead had their teeth pulled out in the storm. Countless bloodshot eyes stared at the earth under the dark night sky. The wind rolled and the clouds dispersed, and day and night alternated.
Such abstract things together make up His face, and He is smiling, a smile that cannot be described in words.

"I say, you still have a chance, Serafax. Look here, look at this key, see? It can bring you some unexpected help, so it can also help you deal with some unexpected troubles - such as the great and lonely Sir Luther."

"He has held on to Caliban for countless ages, becoming the hero he wanted to be, and a threat. I respect him, but I respect you even more, Serafax. You are about to do something far greater than Sir Luther."

"At best, he only protected Lion El'Jonson, but what about you? If your plan comes true, what kind of glory can you bring to mankind?"

Tzeentch raised his hand - he didn't have such a thing, but he wanted it, and then an arm appeared here. Slender and white, like jade, with nine fingers, covered with rings. This hand handed the silver key to the wizard.

"Upgrade, then sacrifice"

Tzeentch blinked.

"It has been like this since ancient times. In order to hold a spear and stand upright, humans have a waist joint that can rotate greatly and have evolved a thumb, a biological miracle."

"They gave up something to gain this precious throwing skill, and you are no exception, Serafax. So, sacrifice yourself for your great cause. I will give you the greatest leniency. You only need to sacrifice one life to gain my authority."

Nine fingers happily twirled the key, causing it to spin faster. The wizard was speechless, unable to think as he watched the scene, as if he had entered a state of dementia. But it didn't matter, because Tzeentch wasn't talking to him.

After a few seconds, the wizard suddenly raised his head, his neck swelled, veins bulged, and then it suddenly split open - no blood or other things splattered. In fact, there seemed to be no blood or flesh at both ends of the crack, and the whole wound looked as dark as an abyss.

A face slowly emerged from it, pale, bloodless, and gasping.

Serafax. Captain of the Knights, traitor to the Dark Angels, and leader of the Ten Thousand Eyes.

Tzeentch looked at him admiringly.

"Who do you want me to sacrifice?" Serafax asked painfully.

Tzeentch immediately burst into laughter - He did not answer, but Serafax had already gotten the answer. The pain intensified, and his face gradually slid from pale to a nearly transparent white, as if he was disappearing.

"No," Serafax said weakly.

"It's up to you, my child. It's up to you whether to refuse or not. I won't make the choice for you, nor will I force you. Of course, you will say that this is a fatal temptation. I appeared when you were the weakest and most helpless, bringing a new turn of events."

"Based on your understanding of me, this is undoubtedly a trap. My actions at this moment are just to persuade you to jump into it, so that you can fall to pieces in the trap and bring me some joy - but, Serafax."

The Lord of Change disappeared on the spot, and when He reappeared, His original form had vanished into thin air, leaving only a mist that wrapped around the silver key.

"Let me clear the fog for you"

The key continued to turn, and a slight electric current suddenly jumped between the nine metal sections that were clearly separated yet tightly connected, dissipating in all directions like a living thing.

They continued to transform, completing the feat of ignoring rules and laws in less than half a second, transforming from lightning into a real wooden door.

The surface was smooth and looked as if it had just been waxed. The door handle was a pitch-black ball with a celestial eagle inlaid with gold and silver staring coldly at the key.

"If you complete the sacrifice, you will receive a portion of my authority."

Tzeentch warned solemnly, his tone no longer containing any joking or amusing hints.

Serafax, who was still wrestling painfully with the wizard's skin, was suddenly shocked to realize one thing - Tzeentch was not lying at this time, he was telling the truth.

Because of this, His speech became extremely slow, and every word seemed sticky and terrifying as if it were filled with blood.

"This part of authority is very complicated. It is difficult for you to fully understand its greatness, but you can use it at will without incurring any cost. After this part of power is in your hands, the first thing you have to do is to kill Luther."

"This matter is not simple, because this stubborn and foolish human has spent countless hours engraving his existence into every layer of Caliban's history, from the past to the future, even in the darkest places, he has always protected Lion El'Jonson."

“So you need to kill him completely and once and for all, otherwise he will come back sooner or later. In order to do this, you have to cut off all the unnecessary branches of the timeline - which means you will enter it in person and experience every different history.”

"It sounds like a laborious task, doesn't it? But don't worry. With my power in your hands, you can complete this preparation in an instant. If you succeed, then congratulations, you have completed the most important step. You have purified the timeline, leaving only the one in which you were born."

"Now, you can kill Luther and take his place. You can shape Lion El'Jonson into the image you imagine him to be, the truly glorious and righteous Knight King."

"He hates evil, has a sense of justice, and knows how to use people. He will become the head of the Primarchs, and those giant babies who lack love will obediently stay under his cloak and look at the glory of the crown. His father will truly regard him as his eldest son and the heir to the empire."

"The Great Crusade will end all cancers that threaten humanity once and for all under the command of the Lion. The same is true for the absurd system of the Empire, which will be reformed from top to bottom."

"Lion El'Jonson will make Mankind and the Imperium great again, and the Dark Angels will remain unbroken, untreasoned, and always glorious."

The key turned gently and swung continuously.

"I have not lied to you, Serafax. I have never been more honest than I am now, and this virtue is taking its toll on me. You have a choice to make."

The door shook, and bursts of golden light shone behind the Sky Eagle. Suddenly, someone started knocking on the door.

"Serafax?" A young boy's voice sounded behind the door, soft and heroic. "Are you awake? You promised me that you would teach me swordsmanship today."

The dark angel in the wizard's body spit out blood, tore off his skin and shackles, and stood naked in front of the door, covered in blood.

He reached out and grasped the key without hesitation.

"What do you want?" the Dark Angel asked.

Tzeentch finally smiled again.

"All of this," He said maliciously. "Try to please me and my sisters, Serafax, while you still can."

(End of this chapter)