My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 462: He Just Came to Kill You Along the Way
Now, Magnus had confirmed one thing—
He was unlucky.
He hadn't actively used his psychic powers, nor had he resisted the Space Wolves' imprisonment. So why had he been dragged into this again?
Beneath his feet was biting cold. Magnus still hadn't activated his witch-sight; he stood cautiously in place, deducing that he had been pulled into some kind of independent psychic domain.
This feeling…
He sensed the chill underfoot—he should be standing in snow.
This was likely Fenris.
Magnus paused. Did Fenris, like the Space Wolves, reject him? Or had he done something wrong—had he broken the oath the Wolf King had once forced him to swear?
The Crimson Sinner searched his memories. In the end, he was certain that he had not broken his oath.
Damn those Space Wolves, he cursed inwardly. He knew their Rune Priests were always acting mystical and cryptic—Magnus had once dismissed that as ignorance and superstition.
But now, reality told him that the Rune Priests had been right.
Magnus struggled internally. On one hand, he had once again been dragged into trouble—and deep down, he still longed… longed to do something.
But on the other hand, Magnus firmly believed that he should do nothing at all.
The Emperor, Hades (when thinking of that word, Magnus felt an instinctive fear and decided to use another term instead), Mortarion, Leman Russ…
Every one of them had told him the same thing: do nothing more.
And Magnus agreed.
He could not bear it… could not bear to face the consequences of his sins again.
Magnus took a deep breath.
You've already accepted all of this, he told himself. Even if that wild dog treated you poorly, he was loyal to your father. And besides, everyone believed the Wolf King was in the right. You shouldn't dwell on it anymore.
Magnus made up his mind. He would prove himself useless—and return to that dungeon.
Within the illusory snow, the Crimson traveler, forcibly dragged into this realm, cautiously took a step forward and spoke in a hoarse voice:
"Great spirit of Fenris—or whatever title you prefer—I mean no offense."
Magnus's form seemed slightly smaller than usual—one of the conveniences of a psyker, able to adjust his own size at will.
Having often dealt with psychic entities, Magnus knew well what posture to adopt before a vast planetary will.
"I am merely a traveler…"
He inhaled.
"A criminal, guarded by your son, Leman Russ. I did not come here of my own will, but the warp storm has trapped us here. Under the decision of your son Russ, I had no choice but to set foot upon your land."
Magnus paused, feeling the cold around him. It did not reject him—that was a good sign.
So he continued:
"By your son Russ's account, I am unarmed, merely seeking shelter from the storm. I hold respect for this land—I have no intention of harming it."
"If any of my actions have offended you, then that is the negligence of your son, Leman Russ. From beginning to end, I have carefully obeyed his rules."
"If you wish to punish me, or demand that I change my behavior—please seek out my keeper, Leman Russ. I have no authority over my own actions."
Hoping to quickly return to his dungeon and do absolutely nothing, Magnus decisively shifted all responsibility onto the Wolf King—and felt quite satisfied with himself.
+No.+ Something spoke.
Blind within this realm, Magnus judged the voice to be coming from ahead.
He could not see it—but before him lay a small island encircled by a river, and upon that island stood a gnarled, towering tree.
It was that tree speaking to him.
+Fenris needs you.+ The ancient voice echoed, bringing Magnus the last message he ever wanted to hear.
A surge of bitter anguish erupted within him. He didn't want this—he didn't want to do anything anymore. Was this real? Or just another trap?
Once, Magnus would have believed himself lucky—countless coincidences and opportunities seemed to come his way.
But now, after everything he had been forced to witness before the Emperor…
To Magnus, everyone looked like they were trying to harm him.
There were no benevolent beings in the Warp.
Not even his own father.
But despite that thought, Magnus still spoke with utmost respect. He raised a hand and touched the shackles around his neck.
"Spirit of Fenris—look at me. I am no longer what I once was. The power I wield now could not contend even with an ant, and my sorcery cannot compare to the faintest glimmer at the tip of a blade of grass."
"I am merely a blind, innocent passerby, with no intention of stepping into the river of Fenris's fate."
"I believe your son would be far more willing to accept your gifts and your request. Perhaps you have chosen the wrong person."
After speaking humbly, Magnus fell silent, waiting tensely.
He knew the rules of the Warp well—so long as he did not explicitly say "accept," or anything similar, they could not claim his power.
At that thought, Magnus uneasily peered inward at his own soul once more. That crack was still there, reminding him that he had already made one bargain.
And what he was doing now—what he was desperately trying to avoid—was preventing the being that would come to collect on that bargain.
Everything the Emperor had done was meant to disrupt that deal as much as possible, while keeping Magnus hidden.
Having realized this, Magnus had neither the strength nor the will to do anything more.
So—just let him go back.
Back to that stinking, freezing dungeon of the Space Wolves.
+No…+
The voice continued.
+Your thread of fate is intertwined with Fenris. This is the sin you have committed—you must repay it.+
Magnus raised a brow in surprise.
"I mean no offense—but what is a 'thread of fate'?"
+Fate.+
"Why is it my sin? I have never harbored ill intent toward Fenris."
A sigh echoed.
In the next moment, Magnus felt something like a feather brush across his shoulder.
The Crimson Sinner shuddered violently. He spoke in disbelief, his voice sharp and fractured:
"It—it's found me?!"
Without hesitation, Magnus immediately began calling out within his mind for the Head of the Silent Sisterhood—the best possible way to sever connection with the Warp, even though something instinctively felt wrong.
+FOOL!!!+
The roar came with a heavy blow. Magnus felt something like a beast pounce at him from behind—it felt just like the Wolf King's kick. He was thrown forward, tumbling straight into the rushing river.
The water enveloped him. Coughing, Magnus fell into darkness—
Pinpricks of starlight began to appear in the void, followed by a strange, flowing river of light. A blinding light tore open the heavens.
Magnus realized in shock that he could see again.
He was floating silently amidst a sea of stars.
Then he understood—this was Fenris's witch-sight. Fenris was sharing its vision with him.
He blinked, a familiar sense of dread rising in his chest.
Slowly, Magnus looked around.
He could no longer see the light of Terra.
But he saw a brilliant stream of blue light, rushing straight toward him.
Even from Magnus's perspective, for a world that nurtured its own soul, that blue current was not fatal. In the past, Magnus could have weakened it through complex rituals.
But the problem was not the blue light.
There was no light left in Magnus's eyes as he stared in despair at what followed behind it.
A monstrous, all-consuming darkness—an indescribable black entity. Its tendrils stretched forward with greedy, mindless hunger, trying to grasp the flickering blue plume ahead.
Wherever that frenzied darkness passed, not even the faintest glimmer of light remained.
It… was far larger than when he had last seen it.
More chaotic.
More mindless.
Driven entirely by instinct. Governed entirely by law.
Magnus trembled as the thought formed—
That was… Had—No! Stop! He must not call it name!
That jailer who once imprisoned him—why had it become so vast in an instant?!
What had it gone through since then?!
Had it devoured the souls of an entire thriving star system?!
Even that wouldn't be enough to grow into something this terrifying!
Magnus felt his mind trembling.
He was staring directly at a monster.
His soul throbbed with pain as the familiar suffocating nausea returned—only far heavier than before.
Don't— Don't come any closer!
Magnus let out a wail. Instinctively, he tried to retreat—but in horror, he realized he could not move at all.
At that moment, he was Fenris.
And in that instant, Magnus felt absolute terror.
Coughing, he struggled up from the river, forcing himself upright, his scalp tingling with dread.
"He—he's coming for me?" Magnus asked, suffocating on the words. He understood now—his creditor had finally found him, and had come to grant him the most horrific death imaginable.
Fine… just him.
Magnus thought. Only he would suffer. He would not drag down his sons, nor his father… he could do this. He could.
Magnus drew in a deep breath. Though his entire body trembled with fear—he accepted it.
He didn't understand why, but if his creditor wished to settle the debt through the cruelest death possible, then he would accept it.
Magnus inhaled again.
"I understand," he said weakly, exhaustion weighing down his voice.
"I'm sorry for bringing danger upon you. You may speak with your son, Leman Russ—have him give me a ship. I can leave on my own and await my final judgment."
For a moment, the spirit of Fenris gave no reply. Only the howling wind filled the silence.
For an instant, Magnus found a flicker of relief. Was the spirit of Fenris mourning his sacrifice?
The wind continued to wail.
+…Child, you must break free from the confusion clouding your perception. It is not here for you.+
In the next moment, Magnus saw it—
The figure of Leman Russ, standing before an altar.
Blinding white and blue light intertwined there.
His vision shifted downward—moving, passing through the white stone altar piled with skulls, through the surface soil overgrown with roots, through the long, dull depths beneath the earth. Flickering candlelight and distant, echoing sounds intertwined as he beheld the underworld of Fenris—the domain where those so-called Fenrisian warp-creatures dwelled.
Magnus drew in a sharp breath.
Fenris was a world capable of sustaining an entire, complete subterranean warp-realm.
But his vision kept moving—downward, further still—
Then Magnus saw it.
A gate, unmistakably alien in design.
It looked long abandoned, yet its defenses were still active. Magnus could see it resisting Fenris's psychic influence.
Ancient Aeldari script was etched across it. Magnus frowned, translating it word by word.
"—Web—way—"
What is this?
Magnus wondered.
As if answering his question, the spirit of Fenris sighed—its voice heavy with exhaustion and anger.
+It delights in theatrics and change, that is why it chose me.+
+Magnus, fifteenth son of the Master of Mankind, the Crimson King—show me your resolve.+
Magnus turned.
And he saw, deep within the Imperial Palace on Terra, the scene Mortarion had once witnessed.
He saw the roads being built.
In an instant, Magnus understood everything.
Terror—overwhelming, incomprehensible terror. His soul screamed silently as panic consumed him, so intense that he could no longer think of anything else.
"It's going to—it's going to—it's going to bring the Lord of the Underworld into the Webway?!"
At that moment—at the very instant Magnus screamed—he slowly, despairingly realized something.
There was no longer any possibility of doing nothing.
The part of his soul that had once been eroded by the black domain throbbed faintly. He knew—no matter how elaborate a warp illusion might be, it could never replicate even a fraction of the terror of that monster.
This—all of this—was real.
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Note:
The bird sacrificed a part of itself to bring Hades into Fenris (By using itself as bait), just so it can bring him to the Webway and then into Terra.
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