Chương 31: Herald

I exhale heavily after making sure no one is looking at me anymore. Performing like that in front of tens of thousands of people was unusual. I had no such experience in either of my lives. The trick, however, was not to think about failure and to look confident no matter what. And with every second it became easier, as watching thousands of people look at you with fanatical fire obviously boosted my self-esteem.

It also particularly helped to use a slight mental influence spread across all of Pry so the people would not worry or panic. Telepathy on such a scale caused a mild headache, but I have survived worse. Using the power of the Astronomican was becoming easier and easier every time, but that was exactly what kept me on edge. Jaya and Zerbe were good teachers and managed to beat one vital fact into me regarding the use of Empyrean powers: if something comes easily and requires no sacrifices, it is an obvious trap.

Working with the Warp, you always pay with something. Usually, it is the chance of exploding or plunging into the most terrifying nightmares conjured by your own mind or cursed daemons eager to claim the body and soul of a naive psyker. In my case, they are simply afraid to appear, because I would tear them apart with a single thought, but I shouldn't forget about the stronger entities who might take a risk for a major prize like me.

But working with the Emperor's light, it was obvious I would not summon any daemons. I felt no other Warp dangers, and this only reinforced my suspicions. Something was clearly wrong here, and in this case, the toll was not so obvious. However, I had no other way to achieve what I wanted for now, so I had to walk blind into the dark. The moment I descended, walked with Soldevan's people, and got into the vehicle, I was able to close my eyes briefly and relax just a tiny bit.

I did not notice the vehicle start moving, as it hovered a couple of dozen centimeters above the ground, propelled by some anti-grav engine. The Inquisitor and I had thought everything through and figured out who would want to meet with me immediately. Therefore, instead of his mansion, I was taken to the people whose help would truly benefit us in the coming events. Namely, toward the largest and most notable building on the entire station, where a meeting with very important potential allies was to take place.

And it was vitally important for me to rest, because I would clearly have to demonstrate miracles of faith more than once today. After about an hour's drive, the final destination of my journey revealed itself to me. A giant golden temple, the statues atop which towered over a kilometer high and simply staggered the imagination with their sheer scale and precision of detail. They depicted the four primary saints of Calixis, and, I had to give credit, they were clearly crafted by a true master.

I could make out even the facial features of each saint, and they were easily distinguishable by their characteristic elements. I saw an old, grim Guardsman clutching his lasgun despite his many wounds. Vidic the Forsaken, the warrior-confessor who fell in battle against bloodthirsty Ork hordes and became the patron of soldiers of all stripes. He is often prayed to for courage in the face of overwhelming enemy forces, especially when the war is fought against xenos. I shifted my gaze and looked at the next hero.

Kivvar Nog of Fedrid. A muscular, bearded man clad in the pelts of some beast, looking somewhat like Conan the Barbarian. Even his statue depicted him as a true savage fighting with a simple axe. He was proof that even the most primitive of humans could achieve glory. According to the myths, Kivvar single-handedly dispatched a dozen traitor Astartes, despite being a mere mortal. An obvious fairy tale, albeit a beautiful one.

Missionaries particularly like to tell the story of the hero of Fedrid to primitive and feral peoples, saying they can rise above their origins if they embrace faith in the Emperor. Also prominent was the statue of a man wrapped in robes, whose eyes seemed to shine with a special light. Ribel Gort the Watcher in the Dark. A saint whose uniqueness lay in the fact that he was an actual psyker. He sacrificed himself to save sacred manuscripts from hordes of xenos vampires dwelling on Dusk, his homeworld.

A good story, which the clergy clearly uses to soften the anger and fear ordinary people hold toward sanctioned psykers. I also like it because it was from this story that I learned actual vampires exist here. And Saint Drusus, of course. The tallest and grandest statue, depicting a man in knightly armor with a blade in his hands. The primary saint of the sector, the Warrior-Saint, First Lord Calixis, Scourge of the Children of Evil, Bane of the Yu'vath, and Bearer of the God-Emperor's Light.

Drusus is the closest thing to a founding father known in the sector, and the cornerstone of the Imperial Creed around which hundreds of worlds united. An interesting figure, though I doubted the veracity of many of his miracles. According to legends, during the Crusade, he was a subordinate to Lord Militant Golgenna Angevin himself, and after his leader's mental breakdown, he de facto took command of the crusade against the xenos and their allies.

He struck them all down, turned the Yu'vath empire to ash, and then died after encountering a hundred assassins. The strangest part, however, was that the very next day he resurrected, shining like a literal lumen globe and becoming the embodiment of the Emperor's own wrath. Arriving at the plaza before the church, I had to step out to meet the delegation already waiting for me. I walked toward the local spiritual leaders, already wearing my classic smile.

It might seem strange that I sought help from the clergy rather than, for example, the Tech-Priests who hold a monopoly on technology, or the Astra Militarum who govern the entire Imperial Guard. Except the role of the Adeptus Ministorum, the spiritual church of the Imperium, could not be underestimated. Especially here in Calixis, where priests arrived alongside the first colonized worlds.

The Ministorum makes its presence felt everywhere the shadow of the Imperium falls, and on many worlds, the church's power and influence heavily outweigh the authority of the Administratum or the direct rule exercised by the Sector Lord. They have put down roots in every corner of the sector, possessing agents, allies, and sympathizers in many of the most influential organizations, second in this regard only to the Inquisition itself.

Furthermore, one cannot forget that the priests and the aristocracy are deeply intertwined. On many worlds, there is a tradition of giving the second son of a noble family to train as a cleric or confessor, fulfilling an ancient pact that guarantees good relations between the nobles and the Ecclesiarchy. Therefore, the church must not be underestimated, for that would be the last mistake of my life. However, they were not omnipotent either.

The main weak point of the local church could be considered its complex and rather decentralized command structure. At the top of the Calixian Ministorum hierarchy are the cardinals of the sector synod. Headed by the Arch-Cardinal from the Cathedral of Illumination on Scintilla, it is more of an idea or principle than a solid structure or chain of command. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

In theory, the synod consists of cardinals from each of the Calixian arch-dioceses and can therefore operate or enact Ministorum decrees across all of Calixis under the watchful eye of the church's head. In reality, true power rests more in the hands of individual diocesan synods managing specific planets.

A good example is that, although the Arch-Cardinal is the head of the sector synod and theoretically governs all arch-dioceses, he actually wields more power as the head of the specific capital synod with all the wealth and privileged position that Scintilla provides. Admittedly, this division allows the Ministorum to exercise detailed control over the regions of Calixis while simultaneously dedicating direct attention to individual worlds or problems.

However, a side effect of such micromanagement is that religious laws or interpretations of sacred texts vary from planet to planet, creating additional political tension within the church. While I was sifting through people's minds, it was easy to spot a whole bunch of minor cults feuding with each other simply over different interpretations of the same scriptures. And how many of those are there across the sector? Thousands upon thousands, and even more.

Soldevan had shared intel with me regarding the local synod. Its head considers himself part of the Drusians, the oldest and most puritanical cult in Calixis. It is practically the same Imperial Creed, only with a heavier emphasis on the achievements of the sector's most famous saint. The Ecclesiarchy is very lenient toward these guys, as they support the Arch-Cardinal and his authority in everything. This was good for me, as building a conversation with them would be relatively easy.

The upside of fanatics is that they are easy to manipulate. I was greeted by an entire coalition consisting of the most notable figures. Standing at the forefront was an elderly, gray-haired man draped in clearly expensive red and gold clerical vestments. Even without any hints, one could tell this was the local Cardinal, and consequently the main representative of the Ecclesiarchy on Pry. A slight smile could be seen on his face, while his soul shone with interest and genuine joy.

I sensed he was a decent man, but he clearly had his own sins. Next to him stood several other important priests, but they did not interest me. The giant man in white armor with a golden wreath on his head, however, was much more interesting. I had only a vague idea of what the High Marshal of the Black Templars might look like, and he completely met my expectations. A mighty man whose soul radiated power and confidence in his deeds.

Beside him stood several other heavily armed Astartes, among whom was someone I recognized. The Chaplain who had subjected me to dozens of interrogations stood at the Marshal's right hand, continuing to burn a hole through me with his gaze. It was also impossible to miss the Sisters of Battle, who were watching me with extraordinary interest. Judging by the identical markings on their uniforms, they all belonged to the same Order. Actually, strangely enough, they do not necessarily engage in matters related to war.

There is a vast multitude of Orders whose goals and tasks vary in the most diverse ways. The Sisters of the Orders Famulous, for example, serve within the domains of the highest Imperial nobility, working as chamberlains, advisors, and consuls. They broker alliances between houses, trade deals, and marriages. In short, their hands always find work in the highest echelons of power, because skilled diplomats are always in demand in this vast universe.

And so I do not know who exactly I am dealing with, because even during my training with Jaya and Atreus, they did not place much emphasis on this. Seriously, who needs to know the difference between the Orders of Madrigal, who manage all-female choirs, and the Order of the Planxilium, who organize pilgrim movements? Once I got close enough, I immediately tried to strike up a dialogue. I bowed slightly, showing a sign of respect to the person standing before me.

Handshakes are not as common here, and this method of showing respect is more popular, being widespread even on the most primitive worlds. It is a sign that I trust the person before me with my back and give him the opportunity to strike me. People instinctively understand this, and they do not need to know that I have the power to kill absolutely everyone on this station. A minor detail not worth mentioning.

Furthermore, it was at this exact moment that the amulet given to me by Maria ten years ago flashed for a second. I had always worn it around my neck, knowing it would come in handy someday. And judging by how the auras of the Sisters of Battle flared slightly with surprise, I scored a few points with them.

"I am glad to greet you, Cardinal Akdas. It is an honor to personally meet such a venerable representative of the Ecclesiarchy." The Cardinal smiled, bowing slightly to me in return.

"No need, my son, the honor is entirely mine. I admit, my whole life I dreamed of meeting a true Living Saint who serves as a conduit of His will. And after decades of searching for the right one, I suspect we have finally found him." I turned my head toward the leader of the Space Marines. Judging by his aura, he was interested in me, but it was impossible not to notice a certain degree of wariness.

He was ready for a fight, and should I present myself incorrectly, the High Marshal would not hesitate to sever my head from my shoulders. I addressed him after the Cardinal, but that was by design. The Black Templars were a special Chapter in many respects, and they sometimes behaved unusually for Astartes.

"I am also incredibly glad for the opportunity to personally meet such a distinguished figure as yourself. The sons of Rogal Dorn and the loyal heirs of Sigismund have earned their reputation through deeds as the truest Angels of Death and the most worthy warriors of the Emperor." Through the Space Marine's soul, I could tell he was surprised, yet his overall disposition became more positive.

On many worlds, Astartes were considered boogeymen from fairy tales, and therefore few people knew anything about their history at all. And they are, by the way, extremely proud of it. That is why such simple flattery works; it is what they want to hear.

"I am also grateful to meet with you personally. My brothers spoke of you, and their words only fueled my interest." His voice was full of power, but I could feel he was not trying to intimidate me. The leader of the Black Templars. Well then, we can have a talk. We walked into the temple, striking up a polite conversation. Of course, I did not stop examining the beautiful ornaments of the cathedral out of the corner of my eye, but my mind was completely focused on the conversation.

The Cardinal did most of the talking, but the Marshal of the Black Templars also interjected a few phrases. The Sisters of Battle, however, had not uttered a single word since I met them. They watched me quietly, as if testing whether I met their requirements. Fortunately or unfortunately for them, I was a good actor and knew my role. And mimicking the Imperial Creed was not all that difficult; Atreus and I had analyzed religious texts and how best to behave around Ecclesiarchy representatives.

"I want to point out again that it is an honor for me to meet figures such as yourselves. In a moment like this, people can only rely on faith and the help of true conduits of the Emperor's will like you." I spoke with a slight smile on my face, walking slowly through the long corridors of the temple. The Cardinal was a step away from me, walking at an unhurried pace as his respectable age dictated. Honestly, I am not even sure he had undergone any juvenat treatments.

The Ecclesiarchy is heavily divided on this issue, and many priests reject such genetic modifications because they consider it interference with the Emperor's creations. Yes, by the way, many here truly believe that he created humanity. And while I could correct them on that point, doing so would not be entirely wise. Especially now, and especially in such company.

"No need, no need. It is the duty of the church to guide the people and lead them through the darkness of fears and delusions. I would be a true heretic if I abandoned even a single soul in need of help. However, my abilities are limited, and I am still an ordinary man. You, on the other hand, are a completely different matter." He cast a questioning glance at me, clearly hinting at my sanctity. My smile grew wider as my eyes began to ignite with golden light.

A moment later, a true halo appeared above my head, and wings unfurled from my back. The light of the Astronomican granted me incomparable and incredible power. The main thing is that the bill for this power does not turn out to be too steep.