Chapter 63: I Want This Too
The spacious and artistically designed spiral staircase leading to the ground, originally intended to showcase the grandeur of the Governor's Mansion, had now become a crowded slaughterhouse.
*Hiss—ha—!*
A piercing scream echoed through the passageway.
Countless mutated creatures surged from the shadows above. Once impeccably dressed nobles were now chaotic flesh puppets, their limbs twisted and skin melting together; even the Governor's guards had tentacles and sharp bone spurs sprouting from beneath their armor.
And among them, mingled with an even more deadly shadow—Slaanesh.
These daemons, emerging from rifts in the Warp, had pale purple skin and fought with the graceful yet deadly grace of dancers. Sharp crab claws tipped their arms, each swing accompanied by a tantalizing fragrance.
"Maintain formation! Advance!"
Cole led the charge.
The Commander didn't swing his halberd wildly; instead, it transformed into a death whirlwind invisible to the naked eye.
*Thud, thud, thud!*
The surging Daemonettes and mutated monsters at the front didn't even have time to see his movements before their heads and bodies were cleanly sliced open. The disintegrating force field instantly evaporated the blood from the wounds, leaving only charred cuts.
"Follow up!"
Sicarius roared.
The Company Captain held Eileen firmly on his left shoulder armor, wielding the power greatsword *Talassa Storm* in one hand, protecting the center of the formation.
Sergeant Varo, carrying the unconscious Lars, whistled through the air with his chainsword, sawing in half the mutated nobles and guards trying to pounce from the side.
"Right side of the stair landing! Heretics are trying to flank!"
Sicarius shouted.
"Leave it to me!"
The response came from a veteran Terminator from the First Company, whose breastplate bore the "Holy Relic Hairband."
This giant, clad in heavy, dark blue armor, didn't fire. On the narrow stairwell platform, he chose to temporarily transform himself into a ferocious bulldozer.
*Thump! Thump! Thump!*
The Terminator's heavy footsteps cracked the marble slabs of the platform. He ducked, his shoulder thrusting forward, crashing directly into the dense horde of monsters.
"For the Saint Bearer!!"
The veteran roared.
An incredibly agile Daemonette swooped down from the ceiling, hanging upside down.
Its eyes gleamed with a cruel, ecstatic light—the primal instinct unique to Slaanesh daemons, a thirst for pleasure derived from the suffering of their enemies.
*Hiss—!*
Sharp, crab-like claws, capable of slicing through ceramite alloy, flashed purple as they viciously clawed at the Terminator veteran's front armor.
A small plasteel box hung from the armor, containing the yellow hairband Eileen had given him.
"Filthy heretic!!" the veteran roared in fury.
But the Daemonette's angle was too tricky; its claws had already touched the surface of the breastplate.
In that instant.
A sudden change occurred.
*Buzz—*
The unassuming yellow hairband suddenly glowed with a faint yet exceptionally resolute golden aura.
This aura wasn't dazzling, nor did it radiate heat.
But the moment the Daemonette's claws touched this golden light.
*Awooo——————!!!*
A bloodcurdling scream, utterly distorted and piercing, erupted from the Daemonette's throat.
It wasn't a groan of pleasure.
It was pure, unadulterated agony, devoid of any gratification.
Illuminated by the golden light, the Daemonette's hard, keratinous claws, like cheese touched by a red-hot iron, instantly smoked and melted away.
This golden power was the Daemonette's very nemesis. It robbed the daemon of its ability to draw power from pain, leaving only a futile, searing agony.
The Daemonette tried to retreat in terror, but it was too late.
"Die, heretic!"
The Terminator veteran's massive powered gauntlet, carrying the force of a thunderbolt, slammed down.
*Bang!*
The punch landed squarely on the Daemonette's face.
Enhanced by the golden light of the hairband, the daemon didn't even have a chance to escape back into the Warp.
The moment its body touched the gauntlet, it flamed like a piece of burning paper, instantly disintegrating into a cloud of charred ash in the air.
The Terminator veteran roared excitedly.
He simply spread his arms, abandoning his defenses, letting the mutants and daemons pounce on him.
Every monster that touched him—or rather, touched that layer of golden light—instantly let out a shrill scream, then was reduced to ashes by the veteran's golden fists.
On the other side of the group.
The veteran swordsman wielding the power sword moved with even greater precision and lethality.
The yellow hair tie, secured to the end of the sword hilt, swayed with his movements.
*Swish!*
He swung his sword.
The blade of the power sword was no longer just covered in a blue disintegrating force field, but was now coated with a layer of flowing golden light.
A tall, mutated governor's guard raised his shield to block.
But the golden sword light sliced through the shield, through his armor, and through his flesh without hindrance.
The cut was smooth as a mirror.
No blood splattered, no internal organs spilled.
A charred, carbonized mark remained at the wound. The guard even maintained his shield-raising posture, his body already stiff, before disintegrating into a pile of black powder.
"This is… the blessing of the Saint?"
The veteran swordsman stared at the sword in his hand, his eyes beneath his visor filled with fanaticism.
He flicked his wrist, and the sword light shimmered like a tapestry.
Any Slaanesh creature struck by the blade would suffer agonizing burning if they were solid mutants, while the semi-solid daemons, even if merely scratched, would have their presence destabilized, and if a vital point was struck, they would slowly turn to ash.
"This is too powerful!"
Eileen, perched on Sicarius's shoulder, stared wide-eyed at the one-sided slaughter on both sides.
"That's just a hair tie, isn't it? Am I really some kind of weapon enchanting master?"
"This is the power of faith, Lady Eileen."
Sicarius, while wielding *Talassa Storm* to decapitate a Daemonette, glanced at the two veterans wreaking havoc.
The Company Captain's tone remained calm, but the envy practically overflowed from his helmet.
"They are fighting for you. And your possessions also carry a trace of great power."
Sicarius pierced the chests of three mutated nobles with his sword, then silently thought to himself:
'Next time… next time, no matter what, I must find a chance to ask Ms. Eileen for a relic. Hmm… the cookie crumbs she left over from last time seem pretty good. I'll collect them when I have time to clean up my armor.'
'The gate to the surface is just ahead!'
Cole's voice interrupted everyone's thoughts.
Ahead, a large gate, intricately carved, lay tightly shut, an eerie purple light emanating from its cracks.
'Break it down!'
Eileen shouted, pointing at the gate.
'Roger!'
The Terminator veteran felt a surge of power coursing through his body. He roared, accelerated to full speed, and charged forward like a battering ram.
*Boom!!!*
The heavy gate, frame and all, was blasted away by the savage impact, reduced to twisted scrap metal.
The dust settled.
The group rushed out of the passage and arrived at the inner garden of the Governor's Mansion.
However, the sight before them caused even the well-traveled Astartes to instinctively pause.
"By the Emperor…"
Sergeant Varo looked around, his chainsword spinning in the air.
This was no longer a human structure.
The entire governor's mansion, along with the surrounding gardens, had transformed into a gigantic, living, nauseating organism.
The once pristine white walls were now pink, breathing flesh, covered in trembling purple tongues.
The windows were gone. In their place were enormous, wet tentacles and twisted, shrieking faces.
These faces crowded haphazardly across the fleshy walls, purple liquid oozing from their empty eye sockets.
The garden plants had all transformed into mouth-shaped, thorny whips.
The tallest spire was now a twisted, living chimney.
Countless thick, sucker-covered octopus tentacles coiled around the tower, continuously spewing pink, hallucinogenic mist into the sky.
The cloyingly sweet smell even penetrated the filters of their power armor and entered everyone's nostrils.
*Beep—beep—beep—!!*
The auspex emitted a piercing red alarm.
"High-energy subspace reaction detected!"
Varo reported loudly, a hint of wariness in his voice.
"Readings off the charts! The veil of reality here is thinning! This should be a sign that a Warp rift is opening!"
"Ugh…"
Eileen covered her nose, looking at the "breathing" house with disgust.
"This house… it's disgusting! It looks like a large intestine covered in purple mold."
She patted Sicarius's helmet, signaling him to lower her down.
"Uncle Varo! Wake up that unconscious guy!"
Eileen pointed to Lars, who was being held by Varo.
"Let him see what his house looks like now! And make him show you where his gang leader dad is!"
Sergeant Varo didn't waste any words.
He simply lifted Lars up, then loosened his grip slightly, letting Lars drop a bit, before grabbing his ankle and shaking him upside down.
"Wake up! Mortal!"
Lars coughed and groggily opened his eyes.
"Huh? I… where am I? Are those big tin cans gone?"
He had just opened his eyes…
He saw a wall of flesh oozing purple pus, and a huge eyeball that had turned to stare at him.
"Ugh..."
Lars's eyes rolled upwards, as if he was about to faint again.
"Don't faint!"
Eileen yelled from Sicarius's shoulder.
"If you faint again, I'll throw you into that disgusting purple mouth (the mutated door)!"