My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 460: Fenris Runs Deep — It's Not Something You Can Handle
[ Fenris ]
Magnus was shoved and jostled off the ship by the wolf pups.
The moment his feet touched the hard, freezing ground of Fenris, Magnus jerked violently, as if struck by electricity.
Even with both eyes sacrificed, the Crimson Sinner immediately sensed that something was wrong with this planet.
…This planet… this planet is alive!
In an instant, Magnus felt as though he were standing atop a massive eyeball—one that was staring directly at him.
It was deeply unsettling.
Shivering, the Crimson Sinner froze in place. The dense, unfamiliar psychic aura of Fenris made it difficult for him to move. A sharp pain began to throb at his neck.
Seeing Magnus stop, the Space Wolves around him immediately let out low, threatening growls.
Not far off, the Wolf King—who had been overseeing Magnus's transfer—spat on the ground.
He was crouched low, one hand braced against the earth, heels raised. Around him, several Wolf Lords mirrored the same posture, forming a loose circle as they discussed something among themselves.
Leman Russ rose casually, brushed the dirt from his hands, and strode toward Magnus.
Magnus wore a psychic suppression collar—a custom model designed specifically for the Red Sorcerer. It was far bulkier than standard versions, nearly encircling his entire neck. Its inward-facing spikes constantly injected him with suppressants, forcing his head into an awkward tilt.
Matching shackles bound his wrists and ankles.
That was why the wolves could transport him with relative ease—this damned psyker could no longer rely on his proud sorcery.
At Russ's waist, nestled among the thick gray pelts, alongside an oily drinking cup, was a dim, half-hidden eyeball.
Russ approached, spat again, and casually drew his axe.
"Magnus."
The Wolf King jabbed the collar with the haft of his weapon, forcing the prisoner to behave. Blood seeped from beneath the metal.
"You'd better not try anything. Be a good, blind slave."
Magnus cried out, Russ's words snapping him out of his brief psychic trance.
"This place is wrong!" he blurted, almost incoherently.
"This—this isn't right! Where is this?! Cadia?! No—no, no, no! Where are we, Wolf King?! You didn't follow the course!"
Without hesitation, Russ kicked him hard. Magnus stumbled forward, barely regaining his footing in the snow.
"—Where are we? Answer me, Leman Russ!"
"Fenris!" the Wolf King roared, striding forward in fury, breath steaming in the cold. He grabbed Magnus by the collar and hurled him backward.
Magnus slammed hard against the frozen ground.
Russ bared his teeth in a savage grin.
"Welcome to Fenris—my homeworld. And now, I'm going to throw you into its coldest, darkest pit."
Magnus struggled wildly, pushing himself up from the snow.
"That's not what I meant! This place isn't right! We shouldn't have come here—"
"Not right? Using your damned prophecies again?"
In the darkness, Magnus felt his heart drop as he realized Russ had stopped moving. Metal clinked faintly.
A wave of regret hit him—he shouldn't have said that. But this planet was too wrong. Magnus had never encountered anything like it.
This world… its psychic currents were profoundly strange, yet unlike the tides of the Warp. It was independent—governed by its own set of rules.
In other words, for psykers, this place was dangerous.
If he were the Magnus of before, he would have been eager to explore this unknown domain. But now, he only wanted to be left alone—he didn't want any more trouble.
Shivering, Magnus crawled backward through the snow.
"…No, that's not what I meant," he said through gritted teeth.
"It's just… this place is hostile to psykers. Wolf King—it warned me!"
Russ fell silent, staring down at Magnus from above. His axe caught the pale light of the wolf-moon, gleaming like a silver line.
Like an executioner measuring something.
At last, Leman Russ shifted, and his rough, reckless voice rang out again:
"Show respect to Fenris, my brother—it will not harm a guest."
The Wolf King bared his teeth as he spoke, his voice grand and resounding across the snowy plains of Asaheim on Fenris—
Asaheim, the only stable, unmoving continent on the world.
His roar sounded almost like a declaration. For a moment, Magnus felt as though Russ's words were not meant for him at all.
"Listen well, Magnus! You come unarmed, following me—the king upon this land of Fenris—onto this continent!"
"In the midst of the storm, you seek only a brief refuge. Once the winds cease, you will depart at once."
"You swear you will bring no bloodshed—then, by the law, this place will accept you. Otherwise, a shadow will fall upon their fates!"
Russ's footsteps sounded unsteady as he approached. He reached Magnus—still lying in the snow, unable to comprehend what was happening—and hauled him to his feet.
"Magnus. Say that you swear it." A low, threatening growl followed.
"I swear!" Magnus shouted immediately. Strangely, the moment he spoke the words, the Crimson Sinner felt the wind against his skin grow less biting, less cruel.
There were too many things in Russ's words that Magnus could not understand—like the many pieces of opaque, tribal jargon used among the Space Wolves.
As if sensing something at the same time, Russ let out a breath of relief and set Magnus down.
"Respect Fenris—and then you may continue to enjoy your prison life."
Russ growled. Watching as Magnus obediently followed the wolf pups toward the dungeons of the Fang, the Wolf King stood in the freezing wind, seeing the prisoner off.
Loose, unhurried footsteps sounded behind him—his Wolf Lords and Rune Priests had approached.
"…Was I right?" Russ muttered, almost to himself.
"Unlike that damned Magnus… can I truly call myself its king?"
Fenris—a world forged of brutal, killing cold. Aside from Asaheim at the poles, all its landmasses are constantly torn apart by volcanic upheaval and the planet's own violent gravity.
Its environment sits precisely at the edge of what humans can barely survive.
Even under the leadership of a Primarch, humanity here has never truly understood Fenris.
They have only built a crude religion centered around the Spirit of Fenris.
And from this soil arose the Space Wolves' unique Librarius—the Rune Priests.
"Did I anger it?" Russ murmured again. Behind him, the Rune Priest known as the Who-Is-Divided—Kva—answered his king:
"You are the king upon this land. Of that, there is no doubt."
Russ glanced at his son.
"But Fenris is more than just land."
Perhaps bringing Magnus to Fenris had been a mistake. But during the journey, the tides of the Warp had struck them hard—the ship needed repairs. He could no longer keep Magnus confined aboard.
Russ shook his head and snorted.
"The Spirit of Fenris speaks to me as well. I've heard it."
"Perhaps…"
His gaze followed the receding crimson figure in the distance.
The Spirit of Fenris had spoken to Magnus too.
The people of Fenris believe that as long as one shows respect to the Spirit of Fenris, follows its laws, and pays the necessary price—then the Spirit of Fenris is benevolent.
A benevolent presence within the Warp.
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