Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 881 Baal's problem is no longer a problem, so can we take a break...?

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When these missing flesh-tearers were scrubbed clean from head to toe and subjected to seven days of regular spraying and isolation observation in the pharmacist's lab, their emotions were remarkably calm—or so they thought.

“Apollos, tell me, wasn’t that…”

Seth walked over to the High Priest who was kneeling in the corner praying. After the High Priest quietly recited the entire prayer, he asked a question in a low voice.

The High Priest turned his head, and on his face was an expression that Gabriel Seth had never seen since he met Apollos: weary, calm, and indifferent.

There was a silence between them for several seconds, or perhaps ten seconds.

A refreshing breeze blew out from the air vents high up, brushing against the bare skin of the two Astartes and bringing a cool sensation.

"I don't know," Apollos finally replied to his chapter master, "I don't know, Gabriel."

“If even you don’t know if that’s really our father, then what should we do? Who can guide the future of our entire chapter? You’re the only priest we have left who can move freely! Zuphias can’t leave his ship… or do you suggest we pretend not to hear about this? Or should we go into hiding…”

"What's the difference between the two, Seth?" The priest looked up, his eyes now meeting those of the Chapter Master.

Seth instinctively turned his head away, struggling to restrain his fingers from gripping the weapon—those eyes that were once so familiar to him had changed.

Its change is not external, but internal.

That invisible darkness, that most primitive and ferocious savagery, that very thing that enabled him to lead the Death Company, had vanished from the priest's sight, making him seem both strangely familiar to Seth.

"That figure's intention to avoid us is quite clear. He has his reasons, and we have our principles," Apollos concluded. "And the fact that we must serve here is unchangeable. Therefore, my lord Seth."

The priest placed a calloused and scarred hand, wrapped with rose rosary beads, on the back of his chapter commander's hand.

"It's almost lunchtime, why don't you come with me for a cup of coconut reca coffee... and let me tell you about my recent discovery at the Death Shroud in Zuphias."

"What's wrong with Death Company?" Seth's muscles immediately tensed up visibly.

“Perhaps we can talk over drinks,” Apollos said, placing his hand on the new scripture at his waist. “As a chapter priest, the priests on this ship have already come to meet me… I must say,” he gave Seth a gentle smile that sent a shiver down his spine, “that a true preacher, I think, would be willing to start with you and share some of your insights on the Book of the Word with our brothers, so that we can better… integrate here.”

“Is this correct, Apollos?” Seth frowned deeply. “Do Astorius and the others know you’ve done this? What about Lord Dante?”

Apollos watched him silently, and Seth suddenly remembered the details of his deal with the ship's owner on Baal, and the even more... bizarre events that had occurred in his office.

“…Alright.” Seth finally nodded with difficulty. “Perhaps I also have some things I should tell you, my friend, my brother. We really should have a good talk.”

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A pigeon perched on the palm of the Sebastian Thor statue in the Destiny Steel Chapel, gazing up at the figure bathed in golden light at the very top center.

The twenty-one largest statues here have undergone subtle changes without anyone noticing.

But perhaps it is because everything around it has always been too exquisite and elegant, and the changes seem so natural, that it appears exceptionally harmonious in this epic composed of alabaster, marble, bronze and gold; or perhaps it is because people rarely raise their heads ninety degrees to examine the face of the statue.

Or perhaps it's simply because the presiding priests are all absent and few people frequent this place, so the changes to the statues are only noticed by a few regulars.

The pigeon withdrew its gaze from the golden light in the center and scanned the statues of the Primarchs on both sides.

Those exquisite bronze canopies seemed to have shifted their positions at some point, revealing the heads of some of the original genetic sculptures that had been hidden beneath them.

The pigeon's gaze began to move along the shrines between the pillars.

This included the Purple Phoenix, whose youthful face was partially revealed. Its exposed alabaster human face, like a half-moon, emitted a faint, tranquil light in the shadow of the canopy. However, no matter how you looked at it, you could not make out the appearance of the half-face in the shadows—perhaps the sharp horns on its head and the distorted face of its debauchery were just a visual magic trick cast by the shadow.

Opposite him stood an archangel surrounded by roses and wildflowers, dressed in casual clothes and holding a spear, his wings drooping, his face elegant and peaceful, just as vivid and natural as when Mephisto had seen him. However, his eternal smile seemed to contain a hint of tension as the angle changed, but this did not diminish the astonishingly fiery beauty he exuded opposite Forgrim, shining like the sun and moon.

Midnight Ghost resembles a mentor wandering the exam hall, handsome yet incredibly intimidating, as if he might appear at any moment in front of the back door window and randomly say "I've come for you" to catch a cheating student, instilling extreme fear in the viewer.

Opposite him stood Guilliman, holding a quill pen in one hand and a long, trailing parchment scroll with no end in sight in the other. Now known as the Regent of the Empire, he wore a laurel wreath and looked several times more haggard than his brothers around him. The youthful appearance that ten thousand years had failed to take away seemed to have returned to him in just over ten months.

One of Felus Manus's hands is transformed into a forging hammer, standing beside a flame and anvil carved from agate, seemingly contemplating his next move. Notably, his head is sculpted with the same shimmering silver metallic texture as his hands, with beautifully segmented lines along his face that gleam like tattoos. A mechanical Garuda stands on his shoulder, looking down upon all living beings.

The towering statue of Angron Petra, carved from warm sandstone and rose-colored marble, perfectly embodies his warm and expansive nature. Numerous treasures from Bot and Nukelia adorn his weapons, belt, and badges of honor. His face is quite distinctive, displaying a mixture of sorrow and joy, calm and anger, with his eyes half-closed and his muscles and weapons poised for action. It is as if he were a ruler preparing to depart for the final battle.

Leon El-Jonson sat high on his throne, lost in thought, as elegant as an ancient knight-king, yet the invisible weight on his shoulders gave him a sense of age, weathered by time. A small figure in a hooded robe leaped from the armrest of his throne, attempting to place his helmet on his head, while another hooded figure sat on the steps, carefully polishing his inherited shield. There seemed to be more figures in the shadows, but if one looked closely, one could only see numerous intricate and varied emblems and patterns painted behind him.

Mortarian's statue is not the largest, but it is probably the tallest. His sculpture rises from the ground, and the towering scythe is imposingly high above, seemingly hanging over the necks of every statue in the chapel and every person who enters, reminding them of eternity, justice, and the importance of cherishing what is in the present moment and the people before them.

Opposite the statue of Loka Aurelion is the statue of Corvus Clarke. At first glance, the position of the Raven Lord seems to be completely shrouded in shadow, but upon closer inspection, one can see that it is a sculpture made entirely of some kind of black, translucent stone. Only his statue does not use alabaster or common marble as its main body. The translucent, iridescent black stone seems to contain strange inclusions. When you try to look at his face, your eyes cannot help but be distracted by the colorful inclusions, ultimately leaving a visual image in your brain that is completely unremembered.

The pigeon clicked its tongue, shifting its gaze from the statue of Horus to a double statue that seemed out of place here—a tall, handsome, and mighty wolf god, clad in pearl-white armor, holding a torch in a victorious pose, while his other hand held the hand of a mortal woman. The woman, dressed in a long robe and wearing a halo, held a huge book in one hand, her head tilted back with equal joy and hope, looking in the direction Horus was gazing. "Sigh..."

The pigeon shifted its claws and looked at the figure of Riemann Russ on the other side. This double statue looked very rich and vivid, with a black wolf, a white wolf, an old man and a young man, a cat and an old woman, as well as an overturned wine glass and a spear. The two Riemann Russ each faced a Fenris wolf, with different expressions, one melancholy and the other joyful.

He then glanced hastily at a dull and lackluster statue, before turning his gaze to another sculpture adorned with mechanical decorations. After staring at it for a moment, he reluctantly looked away.

Finally, His gaze fell upon the two statues standing opposite each other. One was Toga, adorned with gold and black iron, holding in his hands the basic tools of an engineer, such as compasses and squares. Various miniature Titans, vehicles, and other machines surrounded him at his feet, and a miniature star revolved around the scientific tools in his palm. The other was surrounded by laurel wreaths, stars, and other symbols of ideals, order, virtue, and purity. He wore golden armor, and a fiery red cloak billowed majestically behind him. The pure and beautiful blue of the Old Earth was reflected behind him.

"Ugh……!"

The pigeons sighed even louder.

Why are you sighing, Your Majesty?

Julius said with a smile, while flipping through the book of sacred words in his hand, "Isn't the situation getting better day by day? Now we've even brought the descendants of Saint Gilles together. As long as the bridge exists, we can achieve our goal sooner or later. Nothing is impossible for a willing heart."

"well--!!!!"

The pigeon looked at the priest who looked very similar to its own number thirteen but was completely different on the inside, and felt extremely heartbroken, sighing even louder.

"Alas, Your Majesty, you sigh day and night. Can your sighs kill your rivals and all your troubles?"

"...How dare you!"

"If that's what you think, then I'll have to be timid. I'm timid, so maybe next time you go to the Demon Realm, you shouldn't pass through my residence?"

"No! Besides, in my opinion, your residence should have a demonic entrance built in the basement for convenience!"

"That's absolutely impossible. Who would build something that could blow everyone up at any moment right under their own dwelling? Ah, you see, you've stopped sighing, which is good. It's not good to sigh too much in this chapel. Instead of sighing, let's take action. Everything is going in the direction that He wants, and that's enough. We just need to make sure things don't go astray because He can't see them."

"How could someone like you have passed the selection process by the Astartes, the Sons of Dorne?!" Pigeon couldn't help but exclaim. "You speak so rudely and are always so talkative and lecturing!"

“Perhaps I wasn’t this age when I participated in the selection,” Julius said nostalgically, stroking his graying temples. “The series of events that followed were truly a dreamlike encounter for me. —Also, if I may be so bold, preaching is one of my duties. Thank you for your kind words. Perhaps next time you could come and listen to the latest version of the Holy Words’ description of you?”

"...I never said most of what's in the Holy Words!"

"That doesn't matter. If you've seen it, doesn't that mean you know it? And if you know it, doesn't that mean you've said it? Anyway, you already have an impression of it!"

"...You anointed creature, isn't your true nature...that?! I don't remember that guy ever being so glib!"

The pigeon said angrily, "Do you think you'll become more talkative inside the body of the Astartes priest?!"

"That's not true. I believe that most of my peers in the universe still fit the public's impression of the respected members of the Astartes."

Julius shook his head, the crown of psionic thorns swaying gently on his forehead, the thorns piercing his skin, the fleeting brilliance immediately absorbed by the crown.

"It's just that I was thrown a bit too far back then, and I really wanted to go home. In order to find my way back, I traveled to many places and encountered all sorts of situations. Haha, does it seem familiar, Your Majesty? — In short, being taciturn and only knowing how to fight won't help me find my way home. Moreover, in order to return alive, I must first survive. And I also have children I must raise and two worlds, and countless people I must save. For the sake of my lord."

Julius blinked his blue eyes nostalgically, "When I first began to pray, my sacred texts answered me first..."

The pigeon turned its head toward Julius in surprise, and just as it was about to open its beak to ask a question, the chapel doors were suddenly pushed open.

The pastor vanished like a firefly's glow, leaving only a pigeon perched in place, observing the person who entered.

"What's wrong?" He asked, squatting there majestically.

"There's obviously none here either." The person who came in looked around in disappointment.

"What's not there?"

“We’re searching everywhere for the missing people,” Ramizam replied. “It could be a teleportation error.”

"Who's missing?"

"Uh...actually, there should be three."

"Who?" The pigeon felt a growing sense of unease.

"The Pale King, Pallas, Ruth..."

"What--?!"

The entire chapel vibrated with the sound of pigeons.

(End of this chapter)