My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 467: O Changer of Ways, Grant Your Servant Power!
The cold wind surrounded him.
Step by step—deep, then shallow—the snow piled up to a Primarch's knees was forced aside as Magnus trudged across the frozen plain.
Winter had come.
Above the vast sky, the edge of the wolf-moon gleamed with a chilling light. It watched him. They watched him.
He could feel the surging power. Magnus could no longer tell whether it was the blessing of Fenris—or the result of his bargain with the Changer of Ways.
But it didn't matter.
Magnus thought, praising the Changer of Ways in his heart, condemning the false Emperor's cruelty, and fearing the coming of the "jailer"—and for that, he was willing to make this bargain.
He felt a corner of his soul begin to churn, glowing with a radiant blue light.
He's timing it perfectly, Magnus thought—just enough to avoid Fenris's notice, yet sufficient to ensure he would not go back on his word.
A collector always has his own judgment. The fact that He was willing to lend Magnus power meant He believed the return would exceed the cost.
It meant He believed Magnus would ultimately fall into His service.
He—Magnus—would not go back on his word.
He would fulfill the bargain. And if he failed, then he would suffer the backlash of failure.
The cold wind lashed his face. Magnus gritted his teeth. This storm was meant to hinder Leman Russ—but it hindered him as well.
Ice shards the size of stones struck his bare skin. Fortunately, his skin was red, otherwise, his arms would have long since been torn raw.
Amid the endless white, he staggered forward—a lone crimson point moving through the snow.
The ancient voice of ice echoed in his ears:
+Crimson King, he is coming. Prepare your spell. We still have hope.+
Magnus clenched his teeth.
The solution given by the spirit of Fenris was to use psychic power to ignite a path that would draw "it" away, while protecting the Webway within Fenris as much as possible.
Magnus let out a quiet laugh.
Naive, he thought. Completely naive…
Anyone who had truly endured hardship would know that this would never work… just like… before…
He refused to think further.
Such naïveté was destined to suffer.
A twisted smile spread across Magnus's face.
He went along with Fenris outwardly, while inwardly calling upon the Changer of Ways. The Changer had given him another incantation—almost identical to Fenris's, except for the ninth syllable from the end.
That altered syllable would allow Magnus to sacrifice Fenris itself—and seize its power.
Magnus let out a hoarse, almost sobbing laugh.
Barefoot, he stumbled forward, entering the very scene he had once seen in prophecy.
The ragged crimson figure stepped into the altar prepared for him by Fenris.
Magnus drifted in a daze. The storm battered him, urging him onward—but he was not in a hurry. No matter when he began, Leman Russ would arrive at that precise moment.
Fenris did not know this—just as it did not know Magnus had already made another bargain.
Naive.
Magnus slowly raised his arms. He tilted his head upward. The blindfold had long since been removed. Cold snow fell onto his smooth crimson face, melting into clear droplets that slid downward.
He could feel the approaching darkness.
I was right!!!
Magnus screamed silently. The prophecy was real—and yet no one had believed him!!!
In his haze, amidst the extreme cold, it was as if he had returned to that stage.
Magnus blinked weakly. He saw himself standing once more upon the platform of Nikaea.
His vision seemed restored. Under the gaze of the crowd and the blazing lights, he stumbled back in panic.
If only time could turn back…
How desperately Magnus wished for it to rewind to that moment—even if it was only a final illusion.
He hadn't meant to ruin everything. He could have apologized in advance… he told himself.
But deep down, he already knew that at the moment he made that bargain, his ending had already been sealed.
Magnus opened his one remaining eye—the one not yet given to the false Emperor—and strained against the light, trying to find, in the audience below, the Thousand Sons eagerly waiting for him to speak.
He had failed them…
Magnus forced a smile—one more painful than crying.
On the stage of Nikaea, Magnus smiled gently. With elegance, though trembling slightly, he bowed to the audience.
Then he began to speak, pacing slowly across the platform.
"There are benevolent entities within the Warp," Magnus said. He swallowed nervously.
He could do this. He wouldn't ruin it this time. Give him one more chance—he would not disappoint them. He would prove that he was right.
"But due to the limited number of observable cases, I cannot directly present evidence to you."
As he spoke, sweat beaded on his forehead—was it sweat, or melting snow from Fenris?
From below the stage came a familiar scoff.
"Absurd!"
The Wolf King laughed loudly in disdain, slapping his chair roughly.
Magnus smiled at him—but in the crimson sinner's eyes burned fury.
He stared at Leman Russ.
How he hated him.
Russ, who had been born on Fenris—who had seen everything—yet had refused to stand by the truth because of his own stance.
The truth was this: Fenris could have borne witness for Magnus. It could have proven he was right.
He was right.
Magnus breathed heavily. Brilliant blue surged into his eye, accompanied by overwhelming hatred and pride.
Countless visions flashed before him. In an instant, the Changer of Ways showed him innumerable brighter futures—countless endings that should have been his.
But all of them had been stolen.
Taken by those damned anti-psyker zealots.
"Leman Russ," Magnus said calmly, "you have always been a brute—a savage. One who does not respect knowledge. One who shuts his eyes and refuses to see the truth."
"You destroyed me. You allowed them to judge me—yet you refused to defend me."
"And all the while, your own home, Fenris, was the strongest proof that I was right."
Magnus smiled.
He knew his words had carried. The wind bore his voice far away—toward the stumbling figure rushing toward him.
"—MAG—NUS—!"
The Wolf King's howl echoed through the storm.
"What are you doing?! Stop the hell right now!!!"
Magnus smiled—and suddenly raised his voice.
The incantation tore through the winter. He lifted both arms high as the storm swirled violently around him in response to his chant.
Even now, Magnus thought, as a blue glow lit the tips of his hair, Fenris still believes I am benevolent.
Magnus had once been benevolent.
That Magnus was dead!!!
Because this world was cruel enough!!!
If you wanted to live—to stand above the lives of others—you had to be cruel.
Trust no one.
And never believe that anyone would trust you.
Magnus thought: now, he lived only for himself.
Above his crimson hair, a mad darkness gazed down upon him.
In the vast ocean beyond, a star burned into sudden, searing brilliance.
Magnus felt his soul grow hot.
Fenris was still loyally holding back Leman Russ for him—
But Russ had arrived.
Magnus burst into laughter as the charging Wolf King tackled him into the snow. Blood splattered.
Poor, pathetic Fenris still tried to restrain its own son for Magnus's sake.
How pitiful.
Magnus could already hear the Changer of Ways applauding.
If He had allowed Magnus to foresee this moment—then had He been just as delighted during the Council of Nikaea?
Magnus did not know.
And he did not need to know.
The crimson sinner laughed wildly, allowing Leman Russ to seize his throat, trying to stop his incantation.
But Magnus burned with absolute hatred—absolute unwillingness to yield.
A sorcerer's tongue would never fall silent.
Until the very moment of death, it would only curse more fiercely.
Lying on his back in the snow, Magnus "saw" the approaching monster.
This, he thought, is the only fairness left in this world.
Leman Russ was nearly strangling him. His voice finally faltered.
The crimson sinner felt the darkness beginning to seep in.
Deep beneath the ground, tendrils arrived first—probing into the Webway. Cracks spread, tunnels collapsing piece by piece from the entrance inward.
"It" had not even fully arrived yet.
Fenris's plan had been doomed to fail from the very beginning.
Because it was too naïve, too kind. It had never witnessed true, brutal malice.
What was surging toward them now was the most terrifying existence in the entire galaxy.
The will of a single planet was not enough to oppose it.
There was no time left.
Choked by the throat, Magnus rasped out the inverted ninth syllable.
In the next instant, a violent shockwave erupted—Leman Russ was blasted away!
The Wolf King struggled up from the snow, staring at Magnus in disbelief.
Magnus stood before him, bathed in a blazing blue radiance.
Leman Russ knew it with certainty that Magnus, this bastard, could no longer be called his brother.
"Praise be to the Changer of Ways," Magnus laughed, brushing his tangled hair back from his forehead. He lifted his head proudly amid the betraying storm.
He spoke casually, as blinding arcs of psychic lightning surged from his arms.
Only now did Tzeentch truly begin to grant his power. The force of Chaos rapidly invaded Magnus's soul—and the crimson sinner did not resist it in the slightest.
Magnus traced a finger across the smooth skin where his eye socket had once been.
"You damned Fenrisian brute," Magnus said, "I will offer you to my master… in exchange for my true rebirth."
The final syllables could only be spoken when soaked in blood and sacrifice.
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