Kingdom Come: Deliverance, but Warhammer 40k

The initial browsing was uneventful.

The lineage of the family heads, the order of succession, and the collateral branches is intact and traceable, with names extending in an orderly fashion along the veins of the parchment scrolls.

Turning to the middle of the yellowed page, Henry's fingertip paused on a certain line.

Simon Carlos.

When a string of letters is truly printed on the family's heritage tree, it's no surprise.

It seems that whether he was trapped in a warp illusion or had actually returned to the past, Simon was a real family member who had existed.

That experience was largely based on real history...

But the area documenting Simon's biological father is somewhat peculiar.

The original writing had been smeared with a blot of thick black ink. The writer had applied too much force, and the parchment's surface was scratched and frayed, clearly indicating deliberate destruction.

Because he was a traitor, his name was erased?

Or is it that he still exists on this planet as a half-demon, to the point that even his name might attract his attention?

"Look here," Henry asked, pointing to the dark spot.

Ian held the oil lamp close to the paper, examined it carefully, and then shook his head.

"I don't know either. The booklets have been like this ever since I took over the archives fifty years ago."

"Moreover, knowledge itself is inherently dangerous. Since it was modified by our predecessors, it must have their own meaning."

Henry shut his mouth and continued turning the page.

He soon found another strange place.

Simon's eldest sister, the knight pilot who died in battle. Her name was also altered, along with her birth date and life story, which were torn off in their entirety. Most of the parchment was tattered and torn away, forcibly scraped from the annals of time.

For some reason, Henry had a vague feeling that she was very important... that as long as he knew her name, he could get the truth.

A series of hurried footsteps broke the silence of the archives room as they came from the end of the corridor.

The guard who had been ordered to go earlier was out of breath and leaned against the doorframe as he reported, "Sir! The horse has been found! That gray horse is throwing a tantrum in the stable, kicking and biting anyone who dares to approach!"

Henry immediately stood up.

  

The old family genealogy was pushed back into place. With no further leads at the moment, the historical mess had to be temporarily set aside. Compared to these long-standing issues from hundreds of years ago, there was a more pressing matter at hand: he needed to check if the dried liquor hanging on the horse's back was intact.

Henry followed the guards to the corridor where the livestock were temporarily housed.

I had just stepped through the iron fence.

A gray shadow rushed out from the darkness.

boom!

Henry felt a sharp pain in his chest and fell backward onto the haystack.

"Hold!"

He clutched his chest and cursed aloud. When he looked up, a huge horse's face was already right in front of his nose, its tongue licking his face.

It's my little gray cat, but she looks very energetic now.

The Carlos family took good care of her.

"What's wrong with you, you jerk!"

Little Grey snorted loudly, its ears snapping back. Then, it gave Henry a hard nudge with its large head. The force wasn't light, and it pushed Henry backward several steps.

Henry then realized that the guy was taking his anger out on her, and she was very angry.

Extremely angry.

In its eyes, I'm probably a bastard owner who abandoned his mount and ran away on my own.

But back then, it was clearly this beast that took off running first when it was attacked, and now it's acting all wronged and even blaming others!

But an angry horse, like an angry woman, cannot understand reason, so Henry had no choice but to back down.

"Okay, okay, stop it, it's my fault, it's my fault."

Henry reached out and stroked its mane to soothe it.

"Next time I'll definitely let you know before I run away."

Little Grey arrogantly turned its head to one side, ignoring him.

That's enough.

"Anyone who didn't know better would think you were my wife."

Little Grey wagged its tail and continued to put on airs.

Henry then took half a bag of refined soybeans from a guard standing nearby, and patted him on the head and apologized profusely.

The old man snorted and lowered his head to begin chewing.

Henry wiped the sweat from his brow; calming his mount was far more troublesome than dealing with a few cultists.

"Finally, you've served me well."

The guards watching the livestock stood by dumbfounded; it was the first time they had ever seen someone apologize to a horse.

Henry casually untied the bag hanging on the saddle.

The calendula extract was still intact in its leather case, the glass bottle undamaged. He had just breathed a sigh of relief when his gaze fell on the corner, and he froze, staring at the Savior Dry Wine.

Only one bottle left.

Of the three bottles of Salvation Dry Wine I brought with me when I left Baitouwo Town, only one bottle remains, lying alone in a corner.

Henry fell silent.

The earlier guess was confirmed; the two bottles of wine had been consumed.

The problem lies in the timing.

When was it consumed? Who put it in your mouth?

He had no recollection of it.

But the facts are undeniable: the wine had indeed entered his throat. Only in this way can the bizarre encounter that had befallen him be explained.

In the first episode, he was in a guest room when he traveled from a safe timeline to a timeline invaded by chaos.

The second time, he died tragically at the hands of the mutated Carlos family head in the ruins of the future hangar, and then he was regressed to the present time.

An absurd conclusion took shape in my mind.

If the Salvation Dry Wine truly possesses such effects.

When death arrives, the drinker returns to the anchor point that "records fate." Combined with the bizarre energy distortions of the subspace, he thus falls into another spacetime that is similar yet deviates from it.

This explains why he traversed between life and death.

Even though many unexplained questions remain, such as why this didn't happen when the first record of his return was made, and who exactly fed him the medicine without him noticing.

But at least we've figured out the general pattern.

Henry examined the last remaining glass bottle in his hand, his eyes growing brighter.

Since it was possible to return it.

This shows that he still has a way to overcome it.

"Mr. Ian".

What do you need?

"Can you do me a small favor?"

Henry had already started wandering around the hangar, and he had built a circle with stones.

Then, they moved crates around the area, dragged heavy scaffolding, pushed aside empty iron barrels blocking the way, and even hauled a piece of scrap armor plate to a more spacious area.

"What are you doing?"

Finally, the old man Ian could no longer suppress his inner confusion.

"Build a simple platform."

"Set up a stage?"

"right."

Henry hastily wiped the sweat from his forehead and waved to the guards watching nearby.

"What are you standing there for? Come and lend a hand."

"You guys are responsible for carrying that end, yes, pick the widest one."

The guards hesitated, then turned to look at Ian.

The old man sighed deeply.

"Do as he says."

The manpower gradually increased. Efficiency also improved, and no one knew exactly what this eccentric guy was up to.

Looking at the platform that was beginning to take shape, Ian asked another question.

"Henry, you need to give a plausible reason."

"reason?"

Henry placed a plank firmly and grinned.

"Haven't you always wanted to use the power of chaos to leave this planet?"

Ian frowned.

"so?"

Henry was talking nonsense with a straight face.

"The Chaos Gods have already revealed their secrets to me."

"This is the ritual I will use to please them."

The hangar fell silent instantly.

The guards froze, as if they had heard something terrible and were afraid of the reckoning they would face afterward.

Ian remained silent for a long time, and finally rubbed his temples, looking slightly tired.

"Henry".

"Um?"

Do you really think I'm just an old country bumpkin who can be easily fooled?

"Trust me, I at least have hope of freeing your family from the curse. Anyway, you don't have much time left to live."

"..."

Ian was speechless.

After a long while, the old man slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.

"That's enough."

"The Carlos family has suffered for far too long."

"If this is truly some kind of transcendent revelation, why not give it a try?"

Henry clapped his hands and continued to instruct everyone to reinforce the tabletop.

Unbeknownst to anyone, his left hand remained pressed against the leather pouch at his lower back, where the last bottle of Salvation Dry Wine lay quietly.

I'm about to die again.

This time, he will voluntarily step into that hell that is heading towards collapse.