Fezex was on the verge of tears.
"You can't kill me! You shouldn't kill me! I'm useful to you! I can swear on my true name and pledge myself to you! Total loyalty! Not that worthless oath about not lying, a real bond of servitude! Bind my soul-core to you completely!"
Every part of its body that could move was struggling frantically.
"Keep me at your side! I can guide you! I know every crack in this space hulk! I can sense any warp entity or psychic fluctuation that comes near! Do you know how many good things are hidden in this hulk? Centuries of accumulation! Imperial relics, xenos relics, even antiques from the Dark Age of Technology!"
"I'll be more loyal than any watchdog humans have ever kept!"
Lawson looked at it.
Then he smiled. It started at the corner of his mouth and slowly spread to his eyes.
In the dark armory, beneath the silent watch of hundreds of weapons, surrounded by five expressionless Deathsworn, Lawson showed the first genuinely sincere smile he had worn since arriving in this world.
"All right."
Fezex's lone eye lit up.
It stayed lit for only three-tenths of a second.
Because after those three-tenths of a second, Lawson's left hand closed around its throat again, all five fingers sealing shut.
"Ghk..."
Fezex Vomyulin's neck let out a dense chain of cracking sounds inside Lawson's grip.
Its lone eye bulged to the limit. Its mouth gaped wide, that blackened half-tongue stuck stiffly out into the air.
"You said all..."
Lawson's voice was calm.
"I said all right. But I don't trust you."
His fingers tightened further.
Fezex Vomyulin's body began to collapse in Lawson's hand.
Its one eye dimmed. That forked tail gave one final weak curl, then hung limp.
The system prompt sounded:
[Detected lesser warp entity, warp imp, physically destroyed.]
[Soul energy intercepted and purified.]
[Warp Energy +1.]
Fezex Vomyulin's body completely broke down in Lawson's hand.
It left behind nothing at all.
Just like its companion, it had been wiped cleanly out of the universe.
Lawson wiped his palm on his trouser leg.
"The only good daemon is a dead daemon."
He looked toward Number One beside him.
"No matter how sweet it talks, no matter how readily it agrees, a warp daemon, even the lowest sort of imp, leaves a stronger and stronger scent in the immaterium the longer it stays at your side. The higher-ranking daemons will follow that scent sooner or later, the way sharks smell blood in the water."
The imp's offer had sounded extremely tempting.
A loyal guide.
A living map.
An early-warning system that could sense warp disturbances.
Those were all very real advantages.
But what was the price?
The Bloodthirsters nesting on the lower decks, the Daemon Prince worshipped by those Chaos warriors, even the nameless things peering into realspace from the deeper abysses of the warp would eventually notice that signal.
When that happened, it would not be two little imps coming for him.
Hit the target, get the profit, eliminate the risk.
That was the only correct way to do it.
Now he needed to deal with what was inside this armory.
Lawson turned his attention back to the weapons on the racks.
After picking up that warp-tainted boltgun, he noticed that one tab on the system interface, previously greyed out and locked, had changed.
The [Armory] tab had lit up.
A holographic projection unfolded in his field of vision.
Inside it was a cube-shaped space roughly one cubic meter in size.
Its edges were outlined in pale blue light. Inside, it was completely empty.
Beside it floated a block of explanatory text:
[Armory System Unlocked]
[Current available storage space: 1 cubic meter.]
[Storage Rules: The host and all subordinate Deathsworn may store or retrieve items from this space at any time, regardless of distance.]
[Special Function: Weapons and equipment stored in this space will undergo an underlying-law purification process, removing warp contamination and physical damage, limited to damage within repairable range.]
[Space Upgrade: Current space may be increased to 2 cubic meters at the cost of 100 Dimensional Anchor Fragments.]
[Dimensional Anchor Fragments: 0.]
Lawson stared at the last two lines for several seconds.
Dimensional Anchor Fragments.
Another new resource type.
The system gave no indication at all as to how they were obtained, but that could wait.
The truly important part right now was the Armory's core function.
Purification.
Lawson looked down at the warp-tainted boltgun in his hand.
The weapon dissolved into a cloud of pale blue motes and vanished without a sound.
Inside the one-cubic-meter Armory space on the system interface, a holographic image of a floating boltgun appeared.
Its surface was covered by a visible dark red glow.
That was the visual manifestation of warp contamination.
[Warp-tainted weapon detected. Initiating underlying-law purification process...]
[Purifying... 20%... 50%... 80%...]
[Purification complete.]
[Warp contamination residue has been stripped and stored in Scrap Yard.]
Lawson switched to the Scrap Yard to inspect it.
Sure enough, inside that rolling, twisting gray mist, there was now an additional clump of dark red residue.
It was deeper in color than the Waaagh! waste stripped from greenskin souls, thicker in texture as well. Within it, faint broken lines, almost like fragmented runes, drifted slowly in the mass.
He switched back to the Armory.
The dark red glow around the boltgun had vanished completely.
At the same time, the purification process had also repaired some minor physical damage on the weapon.
Lawson took the purified boltgun back out.
He raised it, worked the action, and checked the chamber and feed port.
Smooth.
No drag.
No hesitation.
He tossed the purified boltgun to Number Three.
"Yours."
After that, it became assembly-line work.
Lawson directed the Deathsworn to begin systematically processing every piece of equipment in the armory.
One cubic meter of Armory space was not particularly large, but for purifying individual weapons, it was more than enough.
Numbers One and Four handled moving weapons off the racks.
Numbers Two and Five sorted and organized the purified weapons once they came out.
Number Three, holding the boltgun he had just received, resumed guard duty with Number Two at the entrance.
By the time the last batch of weapons had been taken out of the Armory space and neatly arranged across the floor of the munitions bay, Lawson looked over the pile of equipment before him and allowed himself a satisfied expression.
Time to distribute.
"Number One."
Lawson handed Number One a purified Locke-pattern boltgun and four fully loaded magazines. Number One had been stuck with that lasgun whose ammunition had long since run dry. Now he had finally moved up a tier.
"Number Two."
Number Two received an M-G standard lasgun, three charge packs, and a chainsword.
"Number Three."
Number Three already had the purified boltgun. Lawson added a chainsword and several grenades.
"Number Four."
One lasgun, three charge packs, four grenades, and a fine-condition adamant-steel combat knife.
"Number Five."
Number Five received the power shield.
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