Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 854 Free Shooting! And Development Can Never Keep Up with Change -
"...So, none of you have actually been to the Prospero system and its surroundings. The routes you have in your minds all come from the oldest memories?"

After relying on his fabricated illustrious past and age, and with Diocletian's distorted endorsement, Peturabo BC managed to fool the two children who were actually only a few hundred years old with just a few words. He then obtained this crucial information from the Weeping One and the Flesh-Tearer.

“That’s right, Elder.” Malakin nodded. “At least, that’s what I was told when I was Chapter Master. However, because we migrated to the western part of the galaxy long ago to avoid those…”

He paused, trying to find the right word. Peturabo BC waved a huge, fearless, dynamic palm above his head.

"Those ridiculous, bullshit, superstitious curses and rumors that only embolden the warp monsters of this galaxy. You can say whatever you want on my... my company's ship, lad. I saw Sanguiles and Radolon before I was buried in the Dreadnought! They wouldn't believe this stuff!"

Either of the two names mentioned by the ancient sage would be enough to stir up enough awe among all the descendants of the Holy Blood Angels today, including Malakin and Warren, especially since they believed they had received some kind of revelation from their genetic father on this wondrous ship.

"In the name of Saint Gilles. May he bless you to continue your unceasing struggle in this galaxy, elder," the two high-ranking officers said in unison.

"...I believe he at least knows when it is appropriate to bless me."

The lost elder who called himself Cadomo hummed.

"As for making me fight endlessly in this godforsaken place, well, forget it [Baal curses]. I'll offer Commander Dante some polite sympathy. Now, if you two are both certain that the ancient star map in your minds points to this place, then I'm going to have this godforsaken place thoroughly searched."

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"It looks like we're climbing some kind of tower."

After gazing out the window, which Zao could not see, for what seemed like an eternity, Ramizam told Zao this.

The boy, making sure he was safe, peeked out and squinted in the direction Ramizan had pointed: there was nothing there except for a few things that the boy dared only let flimsy fragments of, so bizarre they could never possibly exist in the material universe, brush past the edge of his vision.

He dared to swear an oath before the signs of any emperor, judge, or court he knew.

There was only madness, chaos, and grotesqueness there, utterly devoid of reason, order, and anything rational—but in Ramizan Carlosini's eyes, it seemed to be a completely different scene.

“Hmm… have we reached the top? Look, those distant mountains, rivers, and forests.” Zan’ao gripped the net line tightly as he listened to the description above him. “We’ve climbed really high. We can even see patches of white mist drifting by. I think that sunlight reflecting off the horizon might be the sea beyond the delta.”

"What about Mephisto?" Zan couldn't help but ask.

"Oh... let me see, hmm, he's still ahead... the road seems a bit different here, LOGOS, let there be light, thank you."

With these ordinary words, Zao found his mortal eyes seemed to clear: he found himself standing with Ramizann in a rectangular hall with towering columns and high windows on both sides, with a straight, gravel-paved road beneath their feet, and columns decorated with blue flames on both sides, the strange flames on the columns flickering and illuminating the center of the road.

"This place is like a basilica."

When the boy began to be able to look around like a normal person, he seemed to hear someone above him muttering.

Zao, who had only attended primary school for a few years while his sister was still working, didn't know what a basilica was, but after the terrifying things and the black mist disappeared, he did see the distant view that Ramizan had just described to him.

The windows on both sides are the same. Through these windows of various shapes, you can see the lush forest, the river and the sea. But if you try to see the shadows between the road and the windows, you will receive an intuitive warning of danger, as if something that is not alive but has some kind of "vision" is staring at you from under those shadows.

He was about to warn Ramizann that "the shadows behind these columns are dangerous" when he heard a hiss from above.

"Oh my god, is that an altar? According to theorem, a boss must spawn in front of an altar in a place like Basilica. Let's quickly find a pillar to hide behind and watch Mephisto solo the boss from a distance, so we don't get caught in the crossfire."

"..." Zao swallowed the words in his mouth, silently feeling as if he was being led into a group of strange things. The ghosts around him watched him silently, but no one dared to disturb Ramizan, who was sticking half his head out from behind a pillar to look at him.

"They spoke... Oh! It really is the BOSS, Mephisto has taken a fighting stance! The opponent has shown his face! His health bar must be showing! Hiss! A bird-headed man! It must be one of Tzeentch's family!"

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On the distant Wizarding Star, Magnus, the demon prince who was preparing for the final ritual to bring the Wizarding Star into the mortal world, suddenly looked up. He felt the wrath emanating from the Crystal Labyrinth, but he didn't know why.

"What's going on?!" he asked his servant wizards. "Has anything unusual happened recently?"

"No, sir, as you command, we are all gathered here to do our utmost for your grand plan."

The one-eyed man, radiating a shimmering, ever-changing light, scanned everyone present with suspicion before calling out a name.

"Where is Wizard Larryn? Why didn't I see him here?"

"Larion must have gone to check on the seal on the punished greedy vulture."

The demon prince furrowed his thick, majestic brows above his single eye, and behind him, countless eyes, as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, opened from his magnificent wings that encompassed all the colors of the world.

"The seal of Zaedgir? What does this greedy bastard want to do now? I've only imprisoned him out of loyalty to me, even though his madness is due to his loyalty. I won't destroy him completely. This mad vulture mustn't ruin my grand plan!"

However, the ceremony to completely push Wizard Star into the ocean of the present universe was already more than halfway through. The hymns of life force from billions of slaves and the agonizing souls of psionicists could not be stopped. Even though the Demon Prince felt something was wrong, he could not leave this place immediately. He could only hope that after the most important ceremony was over, there would still be time for him to see what had happened.

Of course, the blue soft monster had already realized that the dice-rolling incident was a way to shirk responsibility.

The dice cup remained on the tea table in the Crystal Maze, awaiting the guests opposite.

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In Ramizan's eyes, at the altar at the end of the road, the chief think tank was warily facing the hunched bird-headed hooded man. The bird-man stood up, leaning on his staff. His huge, curved beak and hunched back reminded him of an Andean vulture—the man's robe and hood made it seem as if someone had dressed the vulture in human clothes, and the vulture had grown claws to hold the staff.

However, the two did not seem to fight very fiercely, mostly exchanging words. The bird-headed man said that you were destined to come here to be the prelude to my great cause, while Mephisto, as usual, denounced him as delusional in the name of Saint Gilles.

What a lovely couple! Where's Skip?

Someone thought to himself. Zao risked peeking out with one eye, only to find himself unable to move: whether it was Mephisto or the mysterious bird-headed man who had cast a time-freeze spell, Ramizane was unaffected, but Zao was not as completely immune. He was fine when he wasn't "observing" them, but once he "saw" the two fighting in "frozen time," he could no longer move.

"Hiss! That bird-headed man is burning people again! This can't go on! But can this help Mephisto... Hey, hey, aim your shot!"

—Why don't you pull out all your guns? Zan'ao is immobilized and anxious. It doesn't matter if your marksmanship isn't great; this is a LOGOS, not some cheap weapon. Doesn't it have automatic aiming and tracking fire?!

Fortunately, at the same time as Zao thought of it, Ramizam also remembered, "LOGOS! Can it automatically calculate the firing units? Yes? Then what stance should I adopt? Like this? That's great! Quick! He's going to burn people again! Shoot him! Shoot that bird head! Ah, right, right, permission, I'll give you permission, fully automatic free firing!"

The ancient armored mech spirit of the Lord of Steel let out an extremely joyful roar, displaying all the war experience and lost technology it had accumulated over countless years on the surface of its silver-gray armor.

"Wait, what are all these?! Huh?!"

Countless cannons of varying sizes and lengths emitted flames and rays of different colors and energy forms, tracing straight lines, curves, and bizarre gliding trajectories, rushing towards the bird-headed man who was completely unprepared for this sudden attack, like the grandest fireworks going upside down.

At the same time, Mephisto's golden hair moved without wind, his eyes gleaming, and he channeled his spiritual power, forcefully plunging his crimson longsword, Vitalus, deep into the magic circle pattern on the altar, illuminated by the wailing lives—clearly, the Chief Think Tank had also come up with a way to break the formation in a moment of inspiration, but he hadn't expected that in the hall where the time-freezing spell had been cast, besides himself and his old rival Zaedgir, there was no one else who could move.

"Ahhh—?! This can't be! Zaedgir can't just give up like this—I'm not reconciled—"

The bird-headed man, riddled with hundreds of guns and cannons of all kinds of ancient and novel technologies and magical ammunition from all sides, only had time to let out a final howl of surprise and anger, more than a tragic one, before exploding into a brilliant firework in front of the altar in the hall. He then decomposed into the most harmless basic particles and drifted to both sides: the material returned to the real universe, and the spiritual returned to subspace.

An unnamed thought flashed through Zao's mind.

Oops……

A blurry shadow, split into three, flashed before the boy's eyes.

The two shadows swayed for a moment, then immediately merged back into one, but the third shadow disappeared as the altar shattered.

Oh no! We need to find a way to escape this time-frozen state and notify Ramizann and the others!

—Morpheus is in danger!

"Morpheus!"

The entrance to the hall was suddenly kicked open violently, and Lacerius's face appeared along with the Holy Blood Angels he led.

"What's going on?! What happened?! Oh no! Warning! Those Senko—"

"It's alright, they shouldn't move anymore, because the wizard demon who commanded them is dead."

Mephisto's blond hair had transformed into a more brilliant and pure platinum, as had his deep-set eyes, which radiated a pure and luminous light. His power armor, though blood-red, now appeared noble and radiant—in short, the oppressive sense of death—the bloodthirst, bestiality, hunger, savagery, and dark terror—had all vanished from him; he was now wearily leaning against the altar.

“…Callistalis…? Is that you?” Lacerius asked incredulously. “Is it you… who has returned? Where is Mephisto…?”

“I am Morpheus.” The man, who seemed to have descended from the heavens, even coughed, displaying unusual weakness. “After I stopped time just now and fought Zaedgir, I learned part of his plot. He wanted to use this magic circle to power the Silver Tower here… but I didn’t expect our Silver Skull brother…”

He raised his finger and pointed at Ramizan, who walked out from behind the pillar somewhat awkwardly. Ramizan's power armor had been almost restored to its original state, and LOGOS thoughtfully conjured a twin bomb that was still smoking on his wrist.

"I didn't expect him to fire a gun... a cannon while time was stopped? What was that just now? It broke my spell and caused... an accident..."

The person mentioned shrugged.

"Uh, artifacts, you know, the fewer people you send out, the more artifacts they bring, like greatswords and dual pistols..."

"A relic gun that can counter time stop and kill a Tzeentch demon? What's its origin?"

“Uh, uh, well, it’s… it’s a relic from a Primarch! Yes, yes, cough cough, um, Vulcan, Vulcan forged it himself! And then I used a precious anti-psy bullet!”

"Anti-psy bullets? What are they made of?" Lacerius rushed to Mephisto's side, anxiously supporting the swaying Chief Think Tank. "How do they work?! You didn't accidentally hurt Mephisto, did you?!"

“He didn’t,” the chief think tank said, “but the timing of his bullet that killed Zaed Kiel was rather unfortunate…”

"What do you mean?" Lacerius asked with concern, while Zao, who had seemed to want to speak but couldn't find an opportunity to interject, finally managed to say something.

"Morpheus just split into three!" the boy shouted. "One of them got lost!"

The people in the hall stared at him.

“Yes.” The chief think tank nodded slowly with a hint of surprise, sizing up the boy with unlimited potential. “I just tried to split myself into three to deal with those things simultaneously when time was frozen.”

He pointed to the shadows cast by the pillars on either side. Only then did Ramizane notice the blue and gold power armor—at least a three-digit number—in the shadows, and a chill ran down his spine: Had he just been hiding among this group of red-letter warriors?! Huh?!
"And destroying the activation array of this silver tower, and fighting Zaedgir—these are the three things. But Zaedgir was suddenly killed, so I was assigned to hunt down his third... I seem to have been caught in the spatial rift created when the array broke..."

Lacerius's expression immediately turned serious, and they saw him draw his execution pistol.

"Do you sense something's wrong? Can you still control it, Mephisto? Are you still with us?"

“That’s the problem, old friend,” the chief think tank member said with concern. “...My memories and my mind are all here.”

"...The one who ran away is..."

“Yes. Although it should still retain a wisp of false memory and reason after my weakening, it will soon be worn away. We must find it and reunite with it,” Mephisto concluded. “As soon as possible.”

"Before it remembers who it really is and begins to harm the offspring of the Holy Blood."

(End of this chapter)