Chương 23: The False Saint

Time around me practically froze as I tried to figure out what to do next. It was obvious that the people flying towards me were not ordinary individuals, but someone much more dangerous. Deadly, even, I would say. Although I had met few Space Marines in my life and hadn't seen them for over ten years, it was impossible not to recognize that strange glow. An ancient soul, possessing primal power and clearly connected to something immortal.

A significant portion of some Chapter was moving here at an accelerated pace, and I doubt they are flying to me with good intentions. I quickly cast a glance at Jaya, who was currently looking at me with a highly suspicious, barely noticeable smile. Could she have somehow summoned them via vox-link while I wasn't looking? No, that's nonsense. Too little time had passed, and besides, I hadn't taken my eyes off her and knew every single action she had taken since our encounter with the deity.

Finally, I had stripped her of everything but her clothes before tying her up. Therefore, I was absolutely certain she couldn't have contacted the rest of the world in any way. She couldn't have used the Warp in secret from me either, and the deity would have told me about any accomplices, or I would have felt them myself. That means something much more subtle is at play here. Jaya formerly held the title of Inquisitor Lord, and it showed.

She belongs to a rare category of people whose job is to weave conspiracies across hundreds of planets among dozens of star systems. So she could easily wrap me around her little finger, despite my multiple lifetimes of experience. But I wasn't a complete fool either, so I needed to think.

"They've arrived, haven't they? If Atreus had arrived, you wouldn't be this worried. Which means it can only be them. And believe me, these 'angels' will not be gentle with you, no matter what you tell them." I turned my head toward the captive Inquisitor. I maintained a stony expression, but I harbored no illusions about my ability to fool her. The Inquisitor slowly shook her head from side to side, looking at me somewhat dejectedly.

Curiously, she referred to the Space Marines as angels, but judging by her intonation, she doesn't even consider them human. She hadn't shown this level of candor with me before. Except this was only the beginning.

"What is the point of worrying? It is within your power to destroy them all with a snap of your fingers. So why overthink it? Cast off your chains and destroy these fanatics." The old woman had relaxed significantly and was growing more cheerful by the second. Her voice was unnaturally chipper, which couldn't help but make me uneasy. I stared at the former Inquisitor in surprise. This was strange. Far too much heresy for a simple test. Could it be some strange brainwashing technique?

It seemed too simple to me, but I was willing to believe there was a double or even triple bottom here, designed to confuse me. It sounds like nonsense, but right now I was ready to believe anything. Even the possibility that she was completely desperate and bluffing, having no idea what was happening outside the walls of the house. I was shaken from my thoughts when I heard the thunderous crash of heavy vehicles touching down on the ground. I quickly ran to the window and looked out to assess the situation.

Giant grey gunships spoiled the view of the local nature and once again reminded me of the harsh Imperial aesthetic. Monumental and devoid of any sentimentality or hint of elegance. Massive assault ramps slammed into the earth, and the greatest warriors of the Imperium began to disembark from the ship at a rapid pace. Clad in black power armor, their white pauldrons were adorned with the famous black crosses.

Leading them was a warrior wielding a meter-and-a-half-long blade in one hand and a black-and-gold shield in the other. Black Templars had arrived on this world, and they were probably the absolute worst Astartes Chapter I could possibly encounter at this moment. You see, you can negotiate and reach a peaceful resolution with many Space Marines. But these specific sons of Dorn were infamous for their fanaticism, rigid adherence to dogma, and practically boundless faith in the Emperor.

And also for being absolutely intolerant of mutants, psykers, and generally anything that goes even slightly against the laws of the Master of the Imperium. Even if they don't realize they embody almost everything he hated so much. I wonder, how did Jaya collaborate with them? While the Templars frequently work with the Ordo Hereticus, she is from the Malleus, meaning daemon hunters. Furthermore, she was a known psyker, which these guys absolutely despise.

They still adhere to the Emperor's ancient edict forbidding their use, despite how much has changed over the last ten thousand years. I can only assume the Inquisitor once helped them deal with daemons, after which they began a mutually beneficial relationship. But that's a very shaky theory; there is definitely something deeper going on here. However, there is no time to speculate on such things now. I needed to figure out how to survive.

And fighting a hundred Space Marines was clearly not the answer, despite the temptation. Negotiating with them would be difficult, as I couldn't forget about my mentor, who could cause me incredible problems right now. If she says a single word to these Chapter warriors, they will tear me to pieces. Or try to, at least. Although, it's not in her best interest for me to be killed either, is it? If I die, she loses her primary chance to fulfill her grand plan of resurrecting the Emperor.

There will be no powerful psyker, nor a whole Primarch. Which means this isn't a method to get rid of me. She clearly believes I can handle this detachment. I need to consider what will happen if I decide to initiate a conflict. I will permanently sever any avenues of peaceful coexistence with the Imperium, leaving me with only a few ways to continue surviving. Either continue working with Jaya or live forever on the run, which I really don't want to do. And in that case, it makes sense why she called the Templars.

These guys fiercely hate psykers, which is why they have none in their ranks. And without Librarians, they aren't that big a threat to me, to be honest. A stalemate. I froze in place. An idea popped into my head that would either lead to my demise or resolve the situation and prevent bloodshed. I hadn't used this trick in a long time, but right now, theoretically, there was nothing stopping me. It was playing on the razor's edge, but I couldn't come up with another solution.

I turned to Jaya and now I was the one smiling. She raised an eyebrow in bewilderment, but I spoke before she had time to ask her question.

"I'm sorry, but someone is going to have to take another nap. I promise, I'll explain everything later." I snapped my fingers and knocked her out with biokinesis again. Using this technique too often is a bad idea, as it damages the body and especially the brain, but I'll fix everything later. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

After that, I struck my staff against the ground and transfigured my clothes and the interior of the house into something more suitable. I also destroyed unnecessary evidence and made the scene look more plausible. I closed my eyes and plunged into the Warp. Right now, I had to draw in a massive amount of energy, but using any less was pointless. All or nothing. It took me a full minute to attune myself properly and find the right "reflection."

Although Lehida was quite far from Holy Terra, the light of the Astronomican shone like a star even here. The light of the Emperor's psychic will carried warmth and hope, which I could really use right now. I closed my eyes and began to absorb as much of this power as possible. Ultimately, it is still Warp energy, albeit heavily altered. The sensation was strange, but not in the least bit negative. I let waves of Empyrean energy pass through me until I achieved the desired effect.

I took a deep breath and stepped outside. It's time to start the show. Let's just hope I don't get killed because of it.... Radok swept an icy gaze over his brothers as they prepared for deployment. Their armory was a compartment devoid of ornamentation or any individuality, but right now it was filled with noise from the servitors encasing the Astartes in their armor. The scent of fresh parchment from the scrolls on their armor and the aroma of sacred oils necessary for weapon-cleansing rituals permeated the room.

Papyrus scrolls were wrapped around the armor joints, listing the details of the battles the warrior had fought through in runic script. This material is incredibly rare, and samples are passed down through generations, but it was necessary now. The moment Radok moved, the motive cables and pseudo-muscles of his armor hummed sharply. He had long been accustomed to this sound and equated it with battle. He was preparing for the upcoming mission.

Their Chapter waged wars across dozens of worlds and served as the blade in many crusades, but this was work of a different kind. But the orders of the High Marshal are not to be debated. The sons of Dorn simply execute them. No matter what. Radok hadn't always been like this. He still remembered being a mere mortal centuries ago, the leader of a gang of cutthroat criminals from an underhive located on the fringes of the galaxy.

Back then, he fought for every single day, tearing food from the throats of his enemies. Often along with blood and flesh. Due to his cold-bloodedness and ruthlessness, he managed to rise almost to the very top of the hive's criminal underworld, but he achieved a far greater destiny. His abilities were noticed and evaluated, and he was accepted as a recruit into the Black Templars Chapter. Although he had to pass through countless trials of strength, will, and endurance, they could not break him.

The tests consisted of tortures that seemed more like the amusements of the most deranged maniacs: running across burning coals or plunging hands into heated braziers, fighting deadly mutants or captive psykers barehanded. He succeeded and killed everyone who stood in his path. He even tore apart his former gang "brothers," with whom he had grown up in the alleys of the massive city, with his bare hands.

But all these trials were nothing compared to the maddening pain caused by the implantation of the progenoid gland. He endured a sensation akin to every nerve inside his body being burned away. And there was no blissful darkness, for they had to remain conscious during the process so that maddening nightmares could assault their minds during their ascension. Almost all the recruits either died or went insane. But he endured.

Before becoming a herald of death, Radok, while believing in the Emperor, did not pay much attention to it. Daily prayers for forgiveness were enough for him to absolve the sins from his soul. However, during training, all recruits were forced to memorize sacred texts to the point of oblivion, simultaneously undergoing numerous tests of the fortitude of their faith. And during all the torture and torment, he truly believed. He believed truly.

It was his fanatical faith in the Emperor that helped him endure and not break. Every breath he took and every movement of his body no longer belonged to him. The pathetic mortal died during training, and a weapon was born in his place. From a criminal, they forged a living blade, bringing the Emperor's wrath to all the enemies of humanity. Radok was the first to step onto the surface of the new world. Like his brothers, he was a giant encased in sacred black armor.

The surface of his battle plate bore the history of his heroic deeds and was adorned with various trophies, awards, and honorific symbols. His face was hidden by his helmet, revealing only two glowing red eye lenses. Radok gripped a dark blade in his hand, a weapon he had wielded for more than a century. Over a dozen crusades, they had become almost one entity. It took him less than a second to survey the area. Wild nature, interrupted only by a small structure made of pure stone.

Before they could advance, a young man stepped out of the building. Radok could tell at a glance that he possessed the specific bearing of professional soldiers. The stranger was ready for a confrontation, but that wasn't what made him stand out right now. It was the two golden wings, woven from pure light, upon his back. The man's eyes also shone unnaturally, literally radiating divine power.

"... a saint." Shocked whispers from neophytes and even some of his battle-brothers echoed behind Radok. Their Chapter is intimately familiar with the embodiment of the Master of Mankind's will, and for their unbreakable loyalty, the greatest heroes of the Chapter became fully fledged Emperor's Champions, bearing His will. Furthermore, the Templars frequently assisted other saints in their righteous cause, serving as the spearhead of countless crusades. But the power displayed by the man standing in the distance...

it was incomparable. Not a single saint had ever displayed anything like this.

"Hear me." His voice sounded a hundred times louder than it should have. Everyone heard him and felt a power that no ordinary mortal could possess. It resonated with a might that only His messenger could wield. No one could forge the power and light bestowed by the Emperor Himself. Some neophytes behind Radok fell to their knees, but he, despite everything, remained standing, carefully examining the man. The man took no steps, simply spreading his wings and launching himself dozens of meters into the air.

"Sons of Dorn and loyal heirs of Sigismund, you have arrived on this world in its darkest hour. But I am grateful to you, for no one but you can aid my cause." After these words, all the warriors behind Radok fell to their knees. But he remained standing, calmly analyzing the situation.

"Our mission is to find Jaya Neremor, who is supposed to be on this planet. Where is she now?" Radok's voice was harsh and devoid of emotion, but it carried unbreakable confidence and calm. The saint shifted his gaze to the Space Marine, then flew closer to him. There were less than five meters between them, making his aura feel particularly intense right now, so much so that simply looking at him was difficult.

"We were attacked. An entity of the cursed Warp killed everyone but the two of us, and almost took Jaya's life as well, but at the very last moment, revelation came to me. The Emperor granted me the power to destroy the evil and prevent a catastrophe. I destroyed the beast and brought us here," the saint answered, waving his hand toward the structure behind him. Radok silently examined the speaker's face. Flawless, it looked as if it had been crafted by a sculptor. A suspicious level of detail.

After a few seconds, the Templar waved his hand, issuing orders via battle sign for his brothers to check the house. They did not dispute his words and immediately set about executing the mission. They moved toward the house at a rapid pace while he continued to watch the saint. Even though everything pointed to this being a true messenger of the Emperor, he felt as if something was wrong. Radok was not one to rely solely on intuition, but there was nothing he could do.

For if he is wrong and this is a true Living Saint... He would slit his own throat for attempting to harm him. At this time, the saint touched down completely and began scanning the Astartes Chapter with his gaze. Standing so close to him, everyone felt the holy aura, eradicating any doubts. A few minutes later, his brothers returned to him.

"The house is clear. We found only the target, lying unconscious on a bed." Radok shifted his gaze to the saint. He stared at him silently for a full minute, then nodded.

"In that case, take her. We will sort everything out elsewhere. We depart for Pry."