My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 461: The Beginning of Magnus's Unfortunate Journey
[ Fenris ] — [ The Fang ]
Raucous shouts echoed between thick, grease-stained stone blocks. Barrels slammed onto stone tables with dull thuds, followed by cheers. The young wolves crowded together, devouring meat and guzzling drink.
At the very center of the hall, upon a high seat draped in furs, the Wolf King rested his cheek on one hand while holding a goblet in the other, watching his rowdy pack with bored eyes. At his feet, two massive wolves lay obediently.
Unlike the drunken chaos filling the hall, though his hair, beard, and furs were tangled together, Leman Russ's gaze remained strikingly clear.
He swirled the wine in his cup and took a casual sip.
Not Fenrisian mead—this thin, red liquid was a gift from the First Legion.
Since they had been forced to make landfall on Fenris to avoid the warp storm, nine snows had passed.
Fenris had entered its brief summer. But summers on Fenris were fleeting—sometimes lasting weeks, sometimes only hours. Regardless, today was a day to celebrate it.
Compared to his carefree, feasting sons, the Wolf King's mood was far heavier.
He could feel it—they were trapped here.
And clearly, this was by the enemy's design.
He, Leman Russ, and a ticking time bomb named Magnus, were all stranded on Fenris.
The Space Wolves had originally been bound for Cadia. But now, Russ found himself more inclined to return to Terra—to check on the Allfather.
The Wolf King fell silent.
Warp routes were certainly cut off. His instincts strongly recoiled at the thought of using them.
Russ sat in silence, searching for another way to break the deadlock.
—Fenris.
Every Fenrisian knew that Fenris was alive.
It was cold. It was cruel. But it followed its own laws. If you paid the price—if you made the sacrifice—then the spirit of Fenris would answer you.
The Thousand Sons had once scoffed at the Space Wolves' Rune Priests, believing them to be nothing more than barbarians deceived by wild psychic phenomena and nature.
But in truth, Fenris was exactly like that. It was unlike any place the Thousand Sons knew—no single template could define it.
The Wolf King thought this over and took another sip of wine. Like the First Legion, wine brought clarity, encouraged contemplation.
But now, clarity was no longer what Russ needed.
This was Fenris.
He needed a way of thinking that belonged to Fenris.
"Mead!" The Wolf King growled. A servant rushed forward and filled his cup with rich, pungent mead, the liquid crackling faintly as it poured.
Without hesitation, Russ raised the cup—
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
"Burp!"
Leman let out a thunderous belch, drunkenly wiping the foam from his beard as he gestured for the servant to refill it again.
Cup after cup, the potent mead pushed the Primarch into a brief, sweet intoxication. For Russ, such moments were fleeting, and so he cherished them all the more.
He scratched his chin and tore off a strip of meat from a platter resting on the armrest.
Then a word slipped out from the window of a dream and landed at his feet—
The Breath of Syrtr. Leman Russ thought.
The Breath of Syrtr—a deep volcanic cavern. In Fenrisian myth, it was the gateway to the underworld.
Fenris was a world with its own unique reflection in the Warp.
In the original timeline, Leman Russ had entered the Breath of Syrtr and descended into the underworld.
There, he faced the spirit of Fenris—and failed every challenge it set before him. Yet he found the "Dionysian Spear," the weapon he had once cast away, now reappearing in Fenris's underworld.
Fenris was cruel. By its laws, having failed all three trials, the Wolf King should have remained in the underworld forever.
If you sought gain, you had to pay a price.
But Russ tried to escape the fate of punishment—and so he was punished.
By himself.
In the underworld of Fenris, he saw another version of himself.
A version raised on Terra.
There, he was struck by that other self—with the Dionysian Spear.
The Dionysian Spear was a divine weapon gifted to Russ by the Emperor. Those pierced by it would come to know the truth.
It was paired with the Apollonian Spear wielded by the Captain-General of the Custodes, Valdor.
Though he was the Emperor's executioner, Russ despised the weapon.
And so, one day, in a drunken stupor, the Wolf King threw it away.
But during his journey through the underworld of Fenris, the Wolf King reclaimed that spear.
And once pierced by it, he gradually came to understand everything.
Thus, after that brief sojourn on Fenris, the awakened Leman Russ took up the "Dionysian Spear" and resolved to thrust it into Horus—who had already fallen—hoping to awaken the Warmaster to the truth behind the deception.
Unfortunately, that strike did not awaken Horus. Instead, it only drove him further into madness.
…
And now—now everything was only just beginning.
The Fenris of the present had already gained a new variable, quietly arriving, now drawing the attention of far greater powers.
The Breath of Syrtr…
Leman Russ let out a drunken belch as the term surfaced in his hazy memory.
The Wolf King felt Fenris calling to him. His thread of fate was quietly telling the warrior that he needed to go there.
…Would there be a way back to Terra?
Russ thought drowsily, but regardless, he knew he had to go and see for himself.
He needed to personally ask the spirit of Fenris whether he could return to the side of his Allfather.
——————
A shrill, malicious shriek echoed across the skies of Fenris, answered by a sudden surge of bitter cold.
Within the Warp, the powers of two entities began to intertwine.
——————
[ Dungeon ]
Magnus suddenly shuddered.
It felt as though he had sensed something just now—but the feeling vanished as quickly as it came.
In the dark, freezing dungeon, the Crimson Sinner curled silently in a corner. He had long since lost all sense of time, but he was certain he had been here for quite a while.
At first, Leman Russ would still come by to inspect the place from time to time. But as the days passed, it was as if the Wolf King had completely forgotten about Magnus.
Perhaps Magnus's good behavior played a role in that. Aside from his initial loss of composure upon arriving on Fenris, he had since returned to the state of a prisoner awaiting death.
I must not do anything more. Magnus thought, even though he constantly felt that something about Fenris was deeply wrong.
But that was no longer something he could influence. Magnus had already made up his mind—he would go nowhere.
He would not… he would not ruin his father's plans ever again.
But clearly, something was calling to him.
At the very moment the Wolf King resolved to set out for the Breath of Syrtr, deep within the dungeon, a small furry head emerged from the shadows.
It was a wolf cub.
+Fen…ris… needs… you…+
Magnus shouted and sprang to his feet. He felt something nudging him. His sudden outcry alerted the guards—the Space Wolves rushed in, warning Magnus and searching his cell.
They found nothing.
Taking him for mad, they scolded him harshly. Magnus sat back down, but before long, he again felt something nudging him.
This time, having already been reprimanded, Magnus made no sound. He reached out into the darkness—and touched something soft and furry.
By the Emperor… Magnus thought, how could a wolf cub possibly appear in a place like this?
He tried to pet the cub—but in the next instant, it bit him—
Before Magnus could scream again in pain, the Crimson Sinner was forcibly dragged into a vision.
No!
At the last moment of clarity, Magnus's soul cried out in despair—
No more visions! He didn't want to see them again!
He only wanted to quietly remain a prisoner! He could not fail them again!
But his will meant nothing.
Magnus was pulled into the vision.
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Note:
In the Warp, a Bird and a Wolf are having a brawl.
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