[My child, my child]
Al opened his eyes and found himself in a pitch-black world.
"Again?"
His heart jolted.
Overlapping, echoing, hollow female voices reverberated through the dark space.
[You're too slow, too slow]
Al spread his hands and retorted, "What else can I do?"
"You stuffed me into her… into Selesthin's belly, and then her relatives brought an army looking for me. What am I supposed to do?"
Al complained,
helpless and powerless.
[Faster, faster]
The female voice seemed not to hear him at all and kept urging on its own.
"Wait, wait!"
Al hurriedly continued, afraid the other party would just kick him out of this dark world.
"We can't ignore actual conditions and only demand speed and results, okay?"
"Look at my surroundings—a tribe of less than a thousand in a forest full of all kinds of monsters and dangers. What I fear most right now is waking up to find a passing giant beast has destroyed the tribe."
"I know opening a portal to send endless Chaos armies is impossible, but I need more help."
"More help." Al emphasized.
[Sacrifice to us, sacrifice to us]
[What you need, what you need]
"What I need?"
Al thought for a moment and realized he needed far too many things.
Population, talent, supplies, artifacts…
[It's over, it's over]
Al asked in confusion, "What's over? Please say it clearly… Mommy."
He gradually sensed something was wrong, but the New Four Gods gave him no further hints.
[They will see you, they will see you]
[It's over, it's over]
The female voice abruptly vanished, as if it had never appeared.
The dark world fell silent, while Al paced in place, completely baffled.
"Crack!"
A rift that pierced heaven and earth suddenly appeared before him, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass.
From the fissure radiated a scorching, everything-burning aura of rage.
"Blood… Bloodmother?"
Al asked in shock and fear, testing quietly.
"Boom!"
The world shattered.
Countless fragments cascaded like a waterfall, as if the apocalypse had arrived and stars were falling.
Violent bloody storms and molten lava flames dyed the world crimson.
On the brass throne piled high with countless skulls, a giant god wearing brass armor sat upright. Its face was obscured, only a pair of crimson eyes visible as it looked down upon everything in its domain.
Countless Khorne warriors, daemons, and greater daemons knelt on tier after tier of steps, offering the highest reverence to the Skull Throne.
Blood!
Fire!
Destruction!
A killing intent far more violent and terrifying than the Bloodmother swept through the world, as if it wanted to offer every living being's skull before the Brass Throne. Al clutched his head and kept retreating.
This terrifying lust for slaughter multiplied geometrically compared to the impression the Bloodmother had left him. It was like a storm of peerless sharp blades that nearly shredded both Al's mind and body.
It felt as if billions of voices shouted inside his head at once:
Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!
Khorne!
Al cried out in pain, covering his head and crouching. On both his arms the Bloodmother's mark flashed with red light.
Another sharp screech pierced the world's barrier.
The Supreme Eagle raised its head from the countless interwoven threads of past, present, and future, from countless changes and influences, and cast its gaze toward the empty void.
The scheming lord Tzeentch's all-seeing sight seemed to cross countless barriers of time and space without interference and noticed this insignificant mortal existence within the illusionary dream.
In a single instant Al felt every secret, every past, and every future on his entire being laid bare before the most terrifying of the Chaos Gods.
Rot, accompanied by a rich, fragrant scent, diluted Tzeentch's dazzling magic light and Khorne's sky-piercing killing intent.
A fat, bloated, rotting exterior that somehow gave a kindly, benevolent feeling—the Grandfather sat in his garden brewing thick soup. Nurglings danced around the pot while Great Unclean Ones carried materials for the Loving Father.
The foul stench kept drilling into Al's nose. Strangely, the smell grew weirder and weirder, and the more Al smelled it the more fragrant it seemed.
The Father of Decay scooped a spoonful, tasted it, seemed to find the flavor lacking, and regretfully poured it onto the mortal world. Thus several new, terrifying plagues and diseases appeared somewhere, bringing suffering to the mortals there.
The last one was the youngest existence among the Four Gods.
The Dark Prince indulged in boundless pleasure in his Palace of Ecstasy. In the gaps between ecstasy It raised Its head and glanced toward the mortal world. Just that fleeting glimpse caused Al to fall into a terrifying hallucination:
It was mother, yet also sister; kin, yet also wife;
It was every man's woman and every woman's man; the beloved of lovers, the desired of the desirous;
The embodiment of all charm and primal lust, the Great Bestower who brought mortals ultimate ecstasy!
The majestic forms and domains of the four gods unfolded before Al without reservation. They gradually turned their gazes toward Al's location.
Beneath the four realms, a man riding a black horse and holding a flaming sword had his third eye emit an eerie divine light that pierced the Realm of Chaos. Behind him stretched an endless, boundless Chaos army, standing silent like terracotta warriors, waiting.
Al's face twisted in agony as he was tossed about in the Chaos waves.
His mind warped and struggled amid four grand emotions: destruction, hope, desire, and despair.
[They will see you see you see you]
[It's over it's over it's over]
"No!!!"
Al let out a miserable scream. The world collapsed and shattered, returning from darkness to nothingness.
He sat up violently from the goat girl's embrace.
Sweat drenched his entire body as if he had just been pulled from water.
Al panted rapidly, his heart beating wildly.
"Sacrifice… sacrifice…"
He swallowed hard. Ignoring the confused, awakened goat girl and centaur girl, he tremblingly crawled up, lifted the tent flap, and rushed outside.
The tribe was still bustling with activity. Everyone was doing their best at their respective tasks, because the beastmen understood that if they did not quickly unite and establish a firm foothold here, the result might be that none of them would survive.
Al stumbled and ran the whole way. Every beastman he met along the path voluntarily lowered their heads in submission, though today's Beastlord looked somewhat off.
He scrutinized everyone he encountered with the gaze of a beast selecting prey or a butcher choosing which part to slaughter, judging their efficiency and potential as sacrifices.
He ran all the way to the enclosure holding the river trolls. He stood outside the fence. The foul stench in the air did not move him in the slightest.
"Trolls… trolls."
The corners of Al's mouth twisted into a difficult, bitter smile.
"Slaughter them all!"
"Gather the army! Now!"
"All males go hunting!"
The two centaurs stood frozen in place, exchanging glances, unsure what the Godson intended.
More importantly, Alina had already caught up and clearly had no intention of obeying orders, so the centaurs did not follow Al's command.
For the K-party, whether something could fight was the first factor. Otherwise, even if the Bloodmother appeared and declared Al was her biological son carried for ten months, they might not fully submit.
The centaur girl lifted Al by the waist, held him against her chest, and walked toward the other side. The goat girl followed closely behind.
"Weren't you planning to use the trolls as an army?"
The centaur girl tidied the sweat-soaked strands of hair stuck to the youth's forehead and asked in confusion, "Have you changed your mind?"
"No… no…"
Al hugged the mare's head, pressed his face against hers, and cried.
Scenes of red, blue, green, and purple hell flashed and surfaced before Al's eyes, along with the final Three-Eyed King who commanded countless Chaos legions and would shatter the myriad realms, bringing the End Times to all worlds.
"We are too weak… far too weak."
Al's voice was hoarse, carrying a sob as he murmured beside the mare's ear.
The centaur girl gently patted his back and carried him toward the river. The goat girl followed step by step.