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Chapter 257: Ramesses: To Survive, They'd Even Call Me Father?
🕑 Added 2025-10-23 10:08:13 +0000 UTCChapter 257: Ramesses: To Survive, They'd Even Call Me Father?
"..."
The wizard who had embraced a pitiful delusion was finally, truly dead, his body turned to ash. His soul was thrown into a bonfire, becoming a part of another, greater being.
The corpse beneath his sword was slowly dissipating. The sinking valley was filled with the acrid stench of Tzeentchian daemons. Arthur first glanced at the severed Silver Tower of Tzeentch, then dispersed the dust that was blowing in front of him and sheathed his black sword, which was glowing with a faint golden light. It was over.
The Ravenwing, on their jetbikes, quickly fanned out, beginning a final sweep of the entire battlefield. Ramesses and Trazyn stood a few meters away, searching for the exact location of the C'tan shard.
"It seems I am no longer needed," Arthur said, his gaze sweeping over the area, and he gave a slight nod as it fell on the approaching Bjorn.
Bjorn was momentarily stunned, then awkwardly returned the salute. When did the arrogant Lion become so polite?
"Don't go yet! Aim here, and fire one shot down. I've sent you the coordinates," Ramesses quickly made way, pointing to the ground that had been forcibly stabilized after Arthur's arrival. The crystallized ice had all returned to its original form. "Using too much psychic power can easily tear the veil of reality. You fire a shot to re-stabilize it. Oh, and to be safe, have Karna come down too. There's no one watching Old Rom in the warp. He's very safe."
"Understood." Arthur first sent the message, then once again pointed his blade at the ground.
After obtaining the shard of the World-Maker, aside from using its world-shaping authority to slowly repair the Pioneer system, the Dawnbreakers' multi-disciplinary scientific research group, under the guidance of Fabricator-General Trazyn, had also begun to study the application of the C'tan's power. To compensate for Arthur's weakness in offense, the team had prioritized research into energy output. After multiple formula iterations and the construction of technical components, the Ex-13.0 output formula was officially released.
The application of the World-Maker's authority on output, by temporarily constructing an energy output component, could, through the release of energy, directly disintegrate enemies in its path into a particle state. It was just that calling it "Excalibur" was a bit cringe. With Arthur's professional ability, he could completely construct an independent output component. But Ramesses was always muttering about how King Arthur couldn't be without his beam-sword, so he had let him have his way.
And Ramesses could do it too. And he didn't need to understand the principle. He just needed to know that it could be done. The rest, the warp would figure out for him. He didn't even need a C'tan shard, didn't even need to construct a series of components for pre-charging. He could just point at something. The cost had already been paid by the daemon-lords. The only drawback was that using too much psychic power could easily weaken the veil between reality and the warp, and some monsters and demons could take the opportunity to sneak out. And because it was essentially a psychic application, it wasn't very effective against the war-machines of the material universe.
CLANG—BOOM!
A deep hole was blasted in the ice field. The sudden cavitation effect caused another rift to open in the surrounding area. In the dissipating steam, a pulse of light plowed a ten-meter-wide, ten-kilometer-deep hole in the ground.
"Where's Karna?" Arthur didn't say a word, but took a step back. The next moment, a fiery red figure shot past him. "...He's down."
"You go first. Help clear the way. There's still something down there," Ramesses said, patting his companion on the shoulder, looking like a coward. But it was understandable. After all, the Lord of Change was one of the most astute of the Four Gods. While the other three were still searching for them, Tzeentch had already sensed their purpose and had begun to lay his plans. Compared to Slaanesh and Khorne, who were limited in their ability to interfere in reality, Ramesses, who was being watched by Tzeentch, was under a great deal of pressure. For example, that Thousand Sons sorcerer just now. If he had summoned a Greater Daemon of Tzeentch and then performed an over-summon, he would have likely been overwhelmed.
Although it was impossible to send Tzeentch himself into the material universe, take for example the time Khorne had used the Daemon Primarch Angron as a medium to personally destroy the important Imperial facility, the Astropathic Choir Engine. Angron was about to be banished, but Khorne had forcibly kept him alive, and then, through Angron, had stood up and cut the Choir Engine in two with one sword-strike. He was a sore loser. When the Four Gods were really not playing around, they could really give you a hit.
"Alright," Arthur nodded, handing his shield to his companion for protection, and then leaped into the deep passage before Ramesses. The shield contained a portion of the C'tan's material substrate, which could, to a certain extent, stabilize the material universe.
After solving the output problem, Ramesses also planned to conduct research on reality-stabilization, with Arthur as the main subject. Because after establishing a stable support route to Cadia, they would have to enter the Eye of Terror. The power of the Death God had to be taken, but considering the current favorability rating of the Four Gods towards them, everything had to be carefully planned. Several Craftworlds with Crone Swords were also under investigation. He hoped the newly-joined human-abhuman agents would not disappoint them.
"Ancient!" A group of Wolves finally broke through the blockade on the Dark Angels' vehicles. Alm anxiously checked on Bjorn. Seeing he was not seriously injured, he let out a long sigh of relief. He then quickly approached Ramesses, who was waiting for a message from his companions, and said, "Report, my Lord. Those Thousand Sons sorcerers have given up their resistance. They all want to see you."
"We want to see the Primarch, to see our father," Alm repeated, his expression quite complex. It was hard to say if it was jealousy or something else, but it was definitely sour. "Those are the Thousand Sons sorcerers' exact words."
"What?" Ramesses was completely taken aback. No, are these Thousand Sons insane? Do they have no clear understanding of what they've done? And how much of an asshole has Magnus been for the past ten thousand years to make his own children recognize a man they've never even met as their wild father?
The faces of the surrounding Space Wolves also changed.
"Njal boy," Bjorn whispered to the Rune Priest beside him, glancing at the very familiar-looking Ramesses. "Is this the Primarch who replaced that traitor?"
"Yes, Ancient," Njal replied immediately.
"This is a problem," Bjorn couldn't help but sigh, looking at the 'Thousand Son' Primarch. He did not want him to have any connection with Chaos, and the Thousand Sons and the Wolves had been mortal enemies for ten thousand years. But the Primarch's decision was clearly not something he could interfere with.
And unlike the Wolves' worry, the surrounding Dark Angels were indifferent.
"That's Bjorn, right?" the on-duty Cypher asked, nudging the Gareth beside him. He knew this youngest of the Wolf Guard. He had dealt with the Wolves a lot before he was exiled by the Lion.
"I don't know him," Gareth replied. He was born on Caliban and had been recruited by Luther. He was only in his thirties when Caliban exploded. His parents were still alive and well. And for this reason, that war that should never have happened had left such a deep wound on him that for a time, he had no longer wanted to be an Astartes. If not for the Prince's guidance and understanding, he would not have been able to pick up his duties to this day.
Although the Primarchs were all quite gentle in their behavior, that did not mean they were some ignorant saint who could forgive anything. Within their bottom line, they were always extremely tolerant and humane. But when someone crossed that line, you would feel what true thunderous wrath was.
"Kill them. You can deal with them in your own way," Ramesses replied coldly to Alm's question.
"Huh?" Alm was momentarily stunned.
"What 'huh'? How many Space Wolves have been killed by their attacks? How many of Fenris's people? How much trauma have they brought you over the past ten thousand years? What are you hesitating for?" Ramesses couldn't help but roll his eyes and scold him.
"Oh, oh oh," after a moment's daze, Alm quickly nodded and turned to leave.
"So decisive?" Romulus, who was silently watching the naval battle and occasionally micro-managing the fire control, couldn't help but ask.
"What else?" Ramesses said with a look of disgust, as if he had touched something dirty. He clearly had no good feelings for the Thousand Sons. "Should I really play a scene of a loving father and a filial son, have them repent on the spot, and then free them from Tzeentch's manipulation? What about the loyalists? What about the people who have died at their hands for ten thousand years?"
These traitors of the Thousand Sons, every single one of them was the scum of the earth. Don't expect them to have some tragic backstory. No matter how tragic the backstory, after turning to Chaos, you are no longer yourself. Not making unnecessary assumptions can save you a lot of problems in life. Ramesses had always followed this principle. He then kicked the empty can at his feet. "That's letting them off too easy."
"No, I mean, you killed them quite decisively," Romulus said. He certainly knew where the four's bottom line was. He glanced at the园区 camera that was always connected to his side. There were daemons, Aeldari, Squats, T'au, and even Orks. But there were no humans.
"You're not sending them to the park?" After breaking them and extracting the necessary information, they were, after all, human.
"Humans and other creatures are, in the end, different," Ramesses said. The time waiting for his companions' message was always boring. He picked up the empty can and shook it, and a large amount of bone ash fell out. These unlucky Thousand Sons could have their components checked. He'd see if he could use the power of the Death God to resurrect the innocent ones later.
Ramesses's current definitions were very simple.
Xenos: Park property. Treatment: Enslavement, with待遇 graded according to cooperation and personal judgment.
Daemons: Park property. Treatment: Annihilation. Use the warp-creature as raw material for various research, which is fast and can produce extra research points. Annihilate after use.
Humans.
Chaos: Complete annihilation.
Non-Chaos: Leave it to the old man on the Throne to decide.
"Ramesses," Arthur's voice came through the comms. "The bottom area has been cleared. You can come down."
"Do I need to deal with those Thousand Sons?" he asked again, clearly knowing what had happened above.
"No need. I've taken care of it," Ramesses replied quickly, then his expression changed. "There are more down there?" No, what do these Thousand Sons think he is? Just because they call him father, does that make him their father?
"Yes," Arthur said, glancing at the two Thousand Sons sorcerers who had given up their resistance and only wanted to see their 'father'.
"Kill them, kill them!" Ramesses waved his hand, clearly annoyed.
"Understood," the knight said, looking at the sorcerers. The sorcerers were also stunned for a moment, seeing the knight, who should have been six or seven meters away, disappear. The next moment, they lost consciousness.
"If you want me to start defining what a human is, then I'm going to have to start defining what human morality is. And then infinite subdivision, the bottom line getting lower and lower, the definition more and more flexible," Ramesses continued to say to Romulus, after hanging up on Arthur. "And then Master Arthur's iron fist is going to come over."
At this, Ramesses couldn't help but shiver. His kidney ached again. He had been beaten up a lot in his recent melee training.
Indeed, there was only one Arthur in the world. No matter how great his achievements, he would always act according to his own standards, and would even unhesitatingly raise his sword against a friend to correct their mistakes.
