Chapter 138 Decomposition of Orange Weapons
The chanting of Erebus' mortal priests reached a crescendo as he unwrapped the blessed wrappings that had bound the Blade of the Nemesis.
The Dark Apostle raised the weapon reverently, holding the hilt with one hand and placing the palm of the other hand under the blade to prevent his flesh from touching the deadly edge of the blade.
The weapon was made of neither metal nor stone, but a combination of both. It felt warm to the touch, as if it were alive. This was the weapon he had stolen from Interseth.
This weapon will pierce the son of the Empire and lead him to the path of truth. This is the sacred creation that is the key to a conspiracy spanning thousands of years.
This is an instruction from the four gods. Destiny has changed, and they can't wait for the "Warmaster" to appear.
This was an attempt, a one-and-done attempt, to drag down the Emperor's Child who was too brilliant and too involved with them.
He will accept the blessings of the four gods and kick the increasingly glorious empire into the abyss.
But now, Erebus must desecrate it.
In the temple aboard the Hand of Fate, he presented the Nemesis Blade to the statue representing the four Paths of Chaos that occupied it.
He uttered prayers and incantations, paying homage to the terrible masters of the Warp in turn, and a line of eight priests bearing censers and icons followed his every move and added their own voices to the prayers.
When Erebus walked solemnly to the eight-tiered altar in the center of the hall, the priests stopped behind him. This dark apostle rarely had time to interact with mortals, but these priests were his most trusted servants.
The temple's doors were bolted and locked, with guards standing outside, and Erebus's doings must remain secret until the time was right.
The copper stake and iron star of which it was composed were specially consecrated before being cast into the anvil for this ceremony.
The Dark Apostle's most respected dimensional blacksmith, Goodell, and his best apprentices stood on both sides wearing hoods, ready to perform the ceremony at any time.
They will assist Erebus in channeling the hammer blows and dissipating any corrupted energies that may be generated during the ritual.
The Warpsmiths did not flinch when Erebus pointed the terrible blade at them. He raised the Nemesis Blade by the hilt with both hands, pointing the blade upwards and resting it against his forehead.
He closed his eyes, and uttered a rapid prayer, before he placed upon the anvil the sacred weapon that would lead the Emperor's Children into light.
The priests put down the holy images in their hands, extinguished the torches, and took out their own daggers of resentment from their sleeves, and the tone of their chanting became lower.
Erebus took a rune-carved hammer from the dimensional blacksmith apprentice. The end of the hammer head converged to a single point, making it look like a mining draft. The hammer was trembling slightly as it suppressed the energy of destruction.
The Dark Apostle stared down at the blade for a long time, as if what he was about to do was a necessary evil and the weapon before him had already fulfilled its mission.
At least, in its current form.
He held the blade steady, muttering an incantation, and as the hammerhead met the mysterious alloy of the Nemesis's blade there was a gleam of light, and there was a loud bang, followed by a terrible scream, as if the weapon itself was crying out in pain, and the priests beside him buried their ritual daggers into their hearts.
This was their voluntary act, and they were all honored when Erebus asked them to apply sword oil to their new weapons for the fight against the False Emperor.
As they fell, their blood soaked the thick stone slabs of the ground, and as their chants ceased in the suffocating finale of death, their souls leaped joyfully into the Warp, and Erebus prayed that their weak spirits would be a suitable sacrifice.
The blade writhed in his hand, and though he could not discern its movement with his naked eyes, he could feel it trembling and wriggling, like a deadly, muscular snake.
He called out in the dark language of Kambrak, and the air around him flowed under the heavy negative pressure of the sound, while he brought down the forging hammer again and again.
There was a thunderclap, a flash of green light, and Erebus stepped back, the hammer spinning from his hand and falling into the pool of blood on the deck.
He was pushed back by the divine power he had released and almost fell to the ground, while a numb feeling ran up his muscular arms and shoulders, and his palms stung as if they were struck by lightning.
He approached the anvil cautiously again, heard the fading sound of the blade, saw the strange alloy blade about a finger's length placed next to it, and the Enemy Blade itself was glowing slightly and emitting hot smoke.
It was smaller, but also complete. Erebus stood in awe of this godslayer, this tool that would end an age.
Until it was completed, Erebus broke the Dark Blade seven more times and gave the seven pieces to the dimensional blacksmiths. The pain of the blade had dissipated.
The sanctuary finally fell silent. His ears were buzzing, and as he struggled to raise his head, sweat ran down his face. He felt sick and hot, and his arms were heavy.
"finished."
When Erebus walked into the Word Bearers' flagship, the Law of Faith, countless pairs of scrutinizing eyes were cast on him.
"you are late."
A giant walked out of the crowd, holding in his arms a beautifully decorated book - The Word of God
This is Luo Jia's life's work. He has condensed all his admiration and love for his father into this book.
"It took you longer than I expected to prepare this gift for your brother."
Erebas pointed to the square box wrapped in sackcloth on his back. Inside it lay quietly the orange weapon he had disassembled, the key to lead the Sons of the Empire to light.
"Really? What have you prepared?"
Even though he had never had any contact with those three people, Luo Jia did not reject such brotherly behavior.
"A weapon. A sacred weapon," Eribas said frankly.
"Is it."
Luo Jia did not ask any more questions and turned to give instructions to his descendants.
"Set sail for Holy Terra."
A grand ceremony, Lorgar's news channels told him that all the recovered Primarchs had received orders to return to Terra to attend the ceremony.
His father - the Emperor.
It seems that what they want to do is more than just an awarding ceremony.
There was something else that Luo Jia didn't know, but what he knew was that the Emperor seemed to be undergoing some subtle changes.
At least, the letters to him have become much softer (Lux laughs).
(End of this chapter)
The chanting of Erebus' mortal priests reached a crescendo as he unwrapped the blessed wrappings that had bound the Blade of the Nemesis.
The Dark Apostle raised the weapon reverently, holding the hilt with one hand and placing the palm of the other hand under the blade to prevent his flesh from touching the deadly edge of the blade.
The weapon was made of neither metal nor stone, but a combination of both. It felt warm to the touch, as if it were alive. This was the weapon he had stolen from Interseth.
This weapon will pierce the son of the Empire and lead him to the path of truth. This is the sacred creation that is the key to a conspiracy spanning thousands of years.
This is an instruction from the four gods. Destiny has changed, and they can't wait for the "Warmaster" to appear.
This was an attempt, a one-and-done attempt, to drag down the Emperor's Child who was too brilliant and too involved with them.
He will accept the blessings of the four gods and kick the increasingly glorious empire into the abyss.
But now, Erebus must desecrate it.
In the temple aboard the Hand of Fate, he presented the Nemesis Blade to the statue representing the four Paths of Chaos that occupied it.
He uttered prayers and incantations, paying homage to the terrible masters of the Warp in turn, and a line of eight priests bearing censers and icons followed his every move and added their own voices to the prayers.
When Erebus walked solemnly to the eight-tiered altar in the center of the hall, the priests stopped behind him. This dark apostle rarely had time to interact with mortals, but these priests were his most trusted servants.
The temple's doors were bolted and locked, with guards standing outside, and Erebus's doings must remain secret until the time was right.
The copper stake and iron star of which it was composed were specially consecrated before being cast into the anvil for this ceremony.
The Dark Apostle's most respected dimensional blacksmith, Goodell, and his best apprentices stood on both sides wearing hoods, ready to perform the ceremony at any time.
They will assist Erebus in channeling the hammer blows and dissipating any corrupted energies that may be generated during the ritual.
The Warpsmiths did not flinch when Erebus pointed the terrible blade at them. He raised the Nemesis Blade by the hilt with both hands, pointing the blade upwards and resting it against his forehead.
He closed his eyes, and uttered a rapid prayer, before he placed upon the anvil the sacred weapon that would lead the Emperor's Children into light.
The priests put down the holy images in their hands, extinguished the torches, and took out their own daggers of resentment from their sleeves, and the tone of their chanting became lower.
Erebus took a rune-carved hammer from the dimensional blacksmith apprentice. The end of the hammer head converged to a single point, making it look like a mining draft. The hammer was trembling slightly as it suppressed the energy of destruction.
The Dark Apostle stared down at the blade for a long time, as if what he was about to do was a necessary evil and the weapon before him had already fulfilled its mission.
At least, in its current form.
He held the blade steady, muttering an incantation, and as the hammerhead met the mysterious alloy of the Nemesis's blade there was a gleam of light, and there was a loud bang, followed by a terrible scream, as if the weapon itself was crying out in pain, and the priests beside him buried their ritual daggers into their hearts.
This was their voluntary act, and they were all honored when Erebus asked them to apply sword oil to their new weapons for the fight against the False Emperor.
As they fell, their blood soaked the thick stone slabs of the ground, and as their chants ceased in the suffocating finale of death, their souls leaped joyfully into the Warp, and Erebus prayed that their weak spirits would be a suitable sacrifice.
The blade writhed in his hand, and though he could not discern its movement with his naked eyes, he could feel it trembling and wriggling, like a deadly, muscular snake.
He called out in the dark language of Kambrak, and the air around him flowed under the heavy negative pressure of the sound, while he brought down the forging hammer again and again.
There was a thunderclap, a flash of green light, and Erebus stepped back, the hammer spinning from his hand and falling into the pool of blood on the deck.
He was pushed back by the divine power he had released and almost fell to the ground, while a numb feeling ran up his muscular arms and shoulders, and his palms stung as if they were struck by lightning.
He approached the anvil cautiously again, heard the fading sound of the blade, saw the strange alloy blade about a finger's length placed next to it, and the Enemy Blade itself was glowing slightly and emitting hot smoke.
It was smaller, but also complete. Erebus stood in awe of this godslayer, this tool that would end an age.
Until it was completed, Erebus broke the Dark Blade seven more times and gave the seven pieces to the dimensional blacksmiths. The pain of the blade had dissipated.
The sanctuary finally fell silent. His ears were buzzing, and as he struggled to raise his head, sweat ran down his face. He felt sick and hot, and his arms were heavy.
"finished."
When Erebus walked into the Word Bearers' flagship, the Law of Faith, countless pairs of scrutinizing eyes were cast on him.
"you are late."
A giant walked out of the crowd, holding in his arms a beautifully decorated book - The Word of God
This is Luo Jia's life's work. He has condensed all his admiration and love for his father into this book.
"It took you longer than I expected to prepare this gift for your brother."
Erebas pointed to the square box wrapped in sackcloth on his back. Inside it lay quietly the orange weapon he had disassembled, the key to lead the Sons of the Empire to light.
"Really? What have you prepared?"
Even though he had never had any contact with those three people, Luo Jia did not reject such brotherly behavior.
"A weapon. A sacred weapon," Eribas said frankly.
"Is it."
Luo Jia did not ask any more questions and turned to give instructions to his descendants.
"Set sail for Holy Terra."
A grand ceremony, Lorgar's news channels told him that all the recovered Primarchs had received orders to return to Terra to attend the ceremony.
His father - the Emperor.
It seems that what they want to do is more than just an awarding ceremony.
There was something else that Luo Jia didn't know, but what he knew was that the Emperor seemed to be undergoing some subtle changes.
At least, the letters to him have become much softer (Lux laughs).
(End of this chapter)
