Nergüi tried to turn and flee. He could not withstand the overwhelming pressure emanating from the golden giant before him.
For a child raised in the mines of Cthonia, his movements were astonishingly fast. He knew better than anyone how to survive in this darkness. He lightly touched the ground with his toes, turned his body sideways, tensed his muscles, and unleashed all the strength he possessed. In a single instant, like a startled burrowing rat, he could dart into a complex side tunnel and shake off his pursuer.
But the moment he took half a step, a massive hand grabbed the back of his neck.
The hand was warm and powerful; five fingers clamped around him like iron vices and lifted him effortlessly.
Nergüi's feet left the ground. He kicked wildly in the air.
"Let go!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the narrow mine tunnel.
Datch ignored the boy's distress. He pulled the boy closer to his face and examined him carefully.
The boy's clothes were ragged, bound to his body with coarse hemp rope. They were covered in filth and bloodstains and gave off a pungent odor. Through holes in the fabric, shocking and horrific scars were visible on his body. They encircled his shoulders, waist, and the bases of his limbs.
It was as if this body had once been torn into countless pieces and then forcibly stitched back together.
Datch frowned. Is this man really a Primarch?
The boy was much taller and more muscular than children his age. It was clear he had been forged through years of heavy labor in the mines. However, compared to the original, he was completely different.
The boy before Datch's eyes was terribly emaciated and covered in injuries. When captured, his eyes had been filled with terror and rage.
It was difficult to connect this person with the Horus who would later trigger a galaxy-spanning rebellion. But the game information panel did not lie.
Datch stared at the boy until a mission prompt appeared before him, then turned his attention to it.
[Mission Complete! You have successfully suppressed the rebellion in the Dortria District and eradicated the hidden cancer.]
[Quest Rewards: 1,200 EXP, 1,200 Points, +300 Reputation]
As soon as the notification disappeared, a new mission prompt appeared.
[Mission: Designate Primarch Sixteen and establish a base for him. Zaraphiston, chief sorcerer of the Grand Despoilers, used the Chaos artifact "Time Rift" to send you into the past.]
[You have unexpectedly encountered the yet-unawakened Horus. Horus is the Primarch who shattered the Emperor's dream, but at this point he is still an unknown member of the Raider Tribe.]
[His name is extremely important. It will determine the course of his life. By giving him a name, you will change the fate of the Warhammer universe and ultimately defeat the Chaos Gods.]
[Quest Rewards: 2,000 EXP, 2,000 Points, +600 Reputation, Reality Stone ×1]
"As expected of the most popular game of the year."
Datch muttered to himself as he read the mission prompt.
Before the match, he had watched several videos from online content creators. He knew that games set in the Warhammer universe featured very clever plot designs involving various spacetime theories. Players needed to travel through different eras, obtain items, and modify the story in order to ultimately defeat the Four Chaos Gods in the final battle and achieve the best ending.
Simply defeating the Four Chaos Gods without doing so would be meaningless. It would only delay the end of the universe and would not allow humanity to transcend and ascend to greater heights.
Because the Four Chaos Gods existed simultaneously in the past and future, temporarily defeating them would be meaningless. To completely eliminate and defeat them, their root cause had to be eradicated.
Datch examined the magical item he had received as a mission completion reward, his eyes shining faintly.
Reality Stone—one of the six Infinity Stones from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It could fulfill any wish in the real world, alter physical laws, distort causality, and reconstruct the rules of the entire universe… Anything imaginable, the Reality Stone could make real.
Of course, like other magical items, the more changes made, the wider the scope of influence and the greater the cost. Crafting an Infinity Gauntlet would reduce the usage cost.
Datch closed the quest notification and looked once more at the boy in his arms.
Nergüi still clutched his short dagger made of chipped metal scrap and continued to resist. He mercilessly stabbed Datch's wrist.
Clang—
The dagger struck the golden armor with a sharp sound. The tip of the blade snapped off and flew into the darkness.
Nergüi stared at the half-broken dagger in his hand and the still-smooth golden armor clinging to the opponent's body. Despair filled his eyes.
This dagger was his most precious possession. He had found it on a corpse deep in the mines and had spent an entire month sharpening the blade. Now even the white marks could not be scraped away.
"There's no need to be afraid, child."
Datch calmed the boy and set him on the ground but did not release his grip to prevent escape. With his other hand, he retrieved several items from the Room of Requirement: a silver-white canteen filled with water, a handful of thumb-sized candies wrapped in colorful paper, and some military rations that did not taste too bad.
Datch placed the items on the ground, then released Nergüi and gave him freedom.
"These are all yours."
Nergüi first cautiously retreated, then hesitated for three seconds before darting forward again. He grabbed the canteen, tilted his head back, and poured water into his mouth. Water dripped from the corners of his lips and soaked the front of his clothes. He only stopped drinking when he choked and coughed.
Immediately afterward, he grabbed the candies—wrappers and all—and stuffed them into his mouth. His eyes widened.
They were much sweeter than the berries he had once struggled to find.
Cthonia had once been the industrial center of humanity's technological age, but with the arrival of the Eternal Night, the civilization built by the pioneers had perished amid prolonged chaos and internal strife. Only endless ruins and pollution remained.
The sky was always covered in oily smog. The land was stained with industrial waste, and toxic wastewater flowed through the rivers. The survivors huddled together in underground mine tunnels, scavenging the remnants of ancient civilization to barely survive.
Here, people would kill for a single bottle of water and sell their souls for a moldy piece of bread.
This was the place where Horus grew up—the place where the future Warmaster spent his childhood, the place that shaped his body and soul.
Datch patiently watched Nergüi and taught him to remove the wrapper before eating the candy so it would taste even sweeter. Only after the boy showed a satisfied expression did Datch begin to speak and initiate communication.
"Nergüi, you need a name too."
In Cthonian, "Nergüi" means "Nameless One."
It referred to those who could not gain fame through slaughter, those not accepted by the tribe, and those fated to die deep in the mines.
"Fame through slaughter can only be gained through slaughter," Nergüi said, shaking his head, his voice hoarse.
He could not understand how the golden giant before him knew about him, but instinctively felt fear.
"No," Datch said. "A name is not merely about slaughter. It is a mark—a mark of life, a mark of the fate a person is destined to experience."
Datch crouched down and looked Nergüi in the eyes.
"You need a name as an unwavering indicator for the future."
Nergüi shook his head again.
"No. They will kill me. Only those who have shed blood and gained fame are accepted."
"This problem," Datch said, standing up with a smile, "can be easily solved."
…
The Raider Tribe's camp was located deep within a vast underground cavern in the mine tunnels. This place had once been an underground warehouse of an ancient civilization but had now been transformed into the tribe's settlement and gathering place.
Countless caves had been dug into the surrounding walls, serving as homes for many tribe members. In the center of the cavern, a fire burned endlessly, roasting unidentified meat. Oil dripped into the flames with a sizzling sound. The air was thick with a strong stench—sweat, blood, and rotting flesh—mixed with the foul odor rising from piles of garbage.
Children scavenged through trash bins for anything edible. Women squatted in corners processing prey. Men sat around the fire, guzzling alcohol, arguing loudly, and ready to draw knives at any moment.
This was a Raider Tribe—and at the same time, a microcosm of Cthonia's survival rules. It was a world built upon murder.
Khageddon, Nergüi's adoptive father, sat beside the fire enjoying the finest meat and wine. He was the strongest man in the tribe—two meters tall with bulging muscles all over his body. A horrific scar ran from his left eye to his jaw—a badge of honor from battle.
Beside Khageddon lay a massive meat cleaver with dried bloodstains on the blade. His overwhelming presence could intimidate any fool who dared challenge him with a single glance.
Led by Nergüi, Datch easily located the camp and eliminated all the raiders before they could charge with their roars. Even the strongest, Khageddon, lasted only a single round before being sent flying. The tyrannical leader slammed into the rock wall like a rag doll and slid to the ground. The massive machete in his hand flew out and landed in the fire, sending sparks flying.
The camp was enveloped in deathly silence. The tribespeople stared blankly at their warriors lying on the ground, then turned their eyes to the golden giant standing in the center. Their gazes were filled with terror and awe.
Datch turned and looked at Nergüi standing beside him.
"Rules are made by the strongest. Everyone else can only follow them."
He pointed at Khageddon.
"Fame through slaughter can only be gained through slaughter—that is the rule this man established. Let us overthrow him and create our own rules."
Khageddon lay on the ground, his legs twisted, his face contorted in pain. Yet he gritted his teeth and rasped, "This is Cthonian tradition… It cannot be changed by outsiders like you…"
"Yes, it is tradition," Nergüi murmured.
He had lived in Cthonia too long and had witnessed far too much slaughter, far too much bloodshed, and far too much cruelty. Something had taken deep root within him and become part of him. From those events, he had come to understand that to survive, one must kill others. To gain fame, one must kill. To grow stronger, one must trample over the corpses of the weak.
It was a law etched into their very bones.
Datch stared at the brutal leader and spoke calmly.
"Nothing is unchangeable. If one wishes, one can flatten mountains, change the course of rivers, or move stars."
Khageddon let out a hoarse, grating laugh, as if squeezed from a broken bellows. He lay on the ground with blood dripping from his mouth, yet his smile was full of mockery.
"Outsider, you may have power, but your words are nothing but wishful thinking. Flatten mountains? Change the course of rivers? Move stars? Who do you think you are? The Creator?"
Datch said nothing. He simply looked down at the tyrannical leader and directly summoned the world editor.
With a single thought, the terrain change was decided.
In the next instant, the earth trembled. At first it was only a faint shaking, as if something underground had flipped over. As time passed, the shaking grew more violent. People in the camp stumbled and fell to the ground.
"What's happening?!"
"Earthquake! It's an earthquake!"
"Run! The mine tunnels are collapsing!"
But no one could run. The earthquake was too violent; standing was impossible, let alone fleeing.
A thunderous roar came from deep underground, as if countless colossal dragons were roaring deep within the crust. The sound grew closer and louder until—
BOOM!!!
The thick layer of earth overhead was pushed aside by an invisible force. It was neither collapse nor explosion—it was forcibly torn open, as if someone had lifted a curtain with their hand.
Rocks, soil, and mineral deposits buried for millions of years all obediently crumbled before that force. The long-lost sky finally appeared.
The tunnel where the Raider Tribe's camp had stood rose and transformed into a high mountain. From its edge, one could overlook the vast and desolate land.
A fierce heat wave carrying the scent of oil surged from afar.
It was Cthonia's air—polluted for years by industrial waste, carrying a pungent sulfur stench and a nauseating chemical odor.
People who had lived underground their entire lives raised their heads and looked up at the sky. An icy-blue star floated in the heavens, casting scorching light through the oil-stained atmosphere.
Looking around, they saw only ruins of a city. This had once been Cthonia's most prosperous industrial center, but now only ruins remained. Massive mining machines lay fallen on the ground like dead giant beasts, their once-grand towers twisted and leaning, enormous cables coiled around their bases like countless dead snakes.
The Raider Tribe stared in stunned silence at this sight. They gazed blankly at the sky and the ruined city.
They turned and looked up at the golden giant who had torn open the earth. Their eyes were filled with terror and awe.
Khageddon lay on the ground with his mouth wide open, unable to speak. His eyes were filled with disbelief. The face that had been mocking just moments ago was now expressionless and filled with terror.
Datch ignored the NPCs and continued editing Cthonia while spending points.
The thick polluted clouds floating in the sky were swept away by an invisible hand, revealing the true sky. Green appeared on the barren land. Plants sprouted from the cracked soil and grew visibly at a rapid pace. Shrubs, trees, and vast forests followed. The once-desolate hills were instantly covered in lush vegetation.
Water gushed forth from dried-up riverbeds, sparkling under the sunlight. The streams merged into rivers that meandered across the land and eventually flowed into the once-polluted sea after countless years. At Datch's will, the seawater was filtered repeatedly until the pungent odor disappeared, replaced by a unique oceanic scent.
The ground tremors stopped. Unstable faults were reinforced. Dangerous volcanoes were forced into dormancy. Mine tunnels on the verge of collapse were filled in.
Gangs and tribes hiding deep within the mine tunnels were dug out from underground by an invisible force. They screamed and struggled, but the force was merciless. One by one, they were placed on the fresh green land under the sunlight. They stood there in a daze, staring at the sky, the earth, the trees, the grass, and the rivers. Some wept. Some knelt and kissed the ground. Some rolled madly on the grass, praising the god who had changed everything.
In a single instant, all of Cthonia was transformed by Datch's will. The sun was warm, the air was fresh, the land was green, and the rivers were clear. People who had once suffered in darkness now stood in the sunlight like newborn infants.
Khageddon had lost the ability to speak from shock and could only watch in silence. He had lived for decades and experienced countless cruel events; he had believed he understood how the world worked. But in this moment, all that understanding was shattered.
Faced with this golden giant, everything he had once taken pride in was nothing but a joke.
Datch turned and looked at Nergüi beside him. The boy stood frozen, mouth agape, his body trembling slightly—whether from fear or excitement, he did not know.
"You should have a name as a mark," Datch said.
Nergüi turned to look at him, his eyes filled with awe.
"What they told you was wrong," Datch continued. "It was a distortion of the world and the universe."
"Slaughter is not the only law. The strong do not always trample the weak. To live is not to step on the corpses of others."
Nergüi remained silent for three seconds, then slowly knelt and placed one knee on the ground. He drew his broken short dagger and a silver coin from his waist and raised them high with both hands, offering them to the Great One.
In a slaughtering tribe, this gesture signified submission. It meant entrusting one's life and loyalty to the other party.
Datch looked at him, accepted the broken dagger and silver coin, and said:
"I shall bestow upon you the name Horus Lupercal. It is a name that symbolizes the guardian of the sky and law, the suppressor of tyrants, and the protector of justice."
"Your life will be determined by this event. It cannot be changed or distorted."
The moment these words were spoken, an indescribable ripple of time suddenly spread outward. It passed through everyone's bodies at an indescribable speed, piercing all of Cthonia, the entire Milky Way Galaxy, and the entire universe in an instant.
The Warp trembled. An unprecedented ether storm erupted, sweeping everything away. It spanned past and future, shaking stars that had existed for billions of years.
In the depths of the Warp, even the realms of the Gods were affected.
The Four Gods stood in their respective domains, their faces filled with terror.
Just a few minutes earlier, they had been rejoicing that Zaraphiston had banished the Nameless One into the Time Rift.
That damned bastard is finally gone. Now we can finally focus on the battle against those four Primarchs. Without him, this war will be an easy win—easily controlled.
But now…
They sensed that something was wrong.
The Nameless One had somehow escaped the Time Rift, returned to the past, and accomplished something truly astonishing!
Damn it.
Had they been outmaneuvered by Abaddon's scheme? While openly banishing the Nameless One, had he secretly helped him return to the past to shake the very foundation of their existence?
…
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