My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 486: Corax Awakens
A joke repeated too many times stops being funny.
Stimulation only reaches the peak of pleasure the first time.
And there is never only one audience for a play.
. . .
Corax awoke amid a wave of powerless dizziness.
The wound in his abdomen throbbed faintly, and an immense weakness enveloped him. For a Primarch, it was exceedingly rare for anything to knock him unconscious outright and still leave him weak after waking.
But he truly had blacked out.
The moment the Primarch's reason returned, he felt the restraints binding his hands. From the sensation around his wrists, he knew it was not human technology.
It came from xenos.
Or more precisely, the Eldar.
Corax did not open his eyes immediately. He could tell he was lying on some sort of platform. Around him came hushed whispers and footsteps—the Eldar were speaking among themselves.
"—security is extremely tight. It almost looks as though He is determined to claim it at all costs."
"Naturally, the Youngest Queen is destined to devote everything to this. There will only be one chance."
A burst of footsteps followed. Corax heard the faint metallic sound of iron striking iron.
"No need to worry," one of them lowered his voice. "We have found the true god of the underworld… haven't we? No longer five swords, no longer a god of the dead, no longer endless spells and prophecies. For us, all of this has become too simple—too tempting."
Corax heard someone curse bitterly, apparently condemning why they had abandoned the gods of their own race, and why the "god" of another species could be obtained so easily.
A god?
Weakly, Corax thought back to what he had witnessed aboard the Vengeful Spirit. The very mention of the word immediately brought those scenes flooding back.
Everything he had failed to understand—everything that had disgusted him—now had an answer.
The world must have gone mad.
"So simple! There will only be one opportunity—otherwise when would we ever find it asleep?"
"When the human Primarch fully falls to corruption, we strike. We lure over the Merciful One. During the Emperor's Children's ritual, the enormous warp resonance will help us complete what comes next."
"Can He truly kill Her?"
A long silence followed.
"The only reason the Changer of Ways still exists is because it run at first sight of Him. But still… the Dark Prince will not truly perish so easily."
That voice rang out solemnly.
"The domains of gods grind against one another. The balance cannot easily be broken. At this very moment, if He truly to completely devour the Dark Prince and grow once more…"
The Eldar's voice lowered.
"Then this would become a genuine catastrophe for the Warp itself—a disaster born from the material universe."
The companion opposite him spoke up.
"Is it really worth it?"
"There will only be one chance." The Eldar repeated gravely.
"Only one. And if fortune favors us, the Merciful One will grievously wound Her—we may even be able to obtain the Fifth Sword."
In Eldar legend, the Croneswords were five blades forged from the finger bones of the goddess Morai-Heg.
It was said that once all five Croneswords were gathered, the Eldar God of Death would awaken, and the Eldar would gain the power to slay Slaanesh.
However, one of the five Croneswords rested within Slaanesh's palace.
To obtain the power to defeat Slaanesh, one needed all five swords. Yet to gather all five swords, one first had to enter Slaanesh's palace.
At present, the Masque of the Midnight Sorrow did not know the whereabouts of the other four swords. Yet before this operation began, the Laughing God had already informed the troupe's Great Harlequin that the fifth sword was in the possession of the Youngest Queen.
It had originally been destined to be the final sword obtained across countless cycles of fate and reincarnation.
But now, the Lord of the Underworld, one who severed countless chains of causality and destiny, stood beside them.
Perhaps they truly could gamble everything and attempt to reclaim that blade while Slaanesh lay gravely wounded.
The Masque of the Midnight Sorrow was the most extreme among the Eldar. To destroy Chaos and the Thirsting Lady was the ultimate purpose of their existence.
The troupe master looked toward the Death Jester before him and said thoughtfully. His gaze flicked briefly toward the Primarch at their feet—bound by chains and gravitic restraints of every kind—before casually moving away again.
"—Destiny approaches. Go check on the Fool. He must not lose his rhythm at a time like this."
Footsteps sounded.
Corax judged that the Eldar who had been asking questions had departed.
The Primarch opened his eyes and silently sat up.
He saw the Eldar standing before him.
The xenos showed no surprise whatsoever at the Primarch sitting up.
The troupe master wore an exaggerated black longcoat, its lapels and tails spread wide to reveal a gaudy harlequin-patterned lining beneath. Upon the Eldar's face rested a mocking pale-white mask, crowned with crimson feathers rising high above it.
The Eldar looked toward Corax and gave him a deep bow, speaking with theatrical flourish:
"Welcome, guest from beyond fate."
Corax said nothing. His lips were pressed tightly together, his face drained of all color.
"You must have many questions. Upon this stage, countless exquisite dramas unfold. You have merely stepped from backstage of one play that has ended into backstage of another that is just beginning."
"What happened to my brother?" Corax suddenly spoke.
His pitch-black eyes fixed on the Eldar troupe master.
"—The Emperor's Children. What happened to Fulgrim?"
The troupe master looked at him. The mocking expression on the mask now seemed grotesquely twisted.
"He has fallen," the Eldar said.
"And now, aboard his flagship, the Pride of the Emperor, he is preparing a daemon ascension ritual so that he may finally become the favored child of the Dark Prince."
Ordinarily, complete corruption and ascension required a Primarch to offer vast sacrifices—whether gene-seed or the agonizing deaths of countless lives. But now, the Four Gods had clearly relaxed their conditions.
Not only had they relaxed them, they had become lavishly generous in granting their power.
Corax fell silent like a corpse.
He remembered the Alphas aboard the Vengeful Spirit.
Now he understood everything.
"You intend to use Fulgrim's ascension ritual. To use him as bait," Corax spoke calmly.
But there was still one thing he did not understand.
Who was "He"?
Who was the "Merciful One"?
Vaguely, Corax recalled the prayer he had heard before losing consciousness, but his thoughts abruptly halted before the name could fully surface.
Head of the Silent Sisterhood. Corax thought.
The Primarch's mind raced, piecing together every fragment of information he possessed.
There were "gods" within the Warp.
But there also existed something "above the gods."
Everything—his brother's corruption, Mortarion's transformation—had been caused by these "gods," by the Warp itself.
And now…
All eyes were fixed upon Cadia, because the "Merciful One" was imprisoned there.
Corax remained silent.
He had now been forcibly drawn into yet another conspiracy. The xenos intended to use humanity's Fulgrim—and the Head of the Silent Sisterhood—to achieve their own ends.
Corax felt the exhaustion weighing upon his soul.
And he, this uninvited guest—what role did he occupy within this play?
"I am another unexpected piece of bait as well, aren't I?"
Whether for the Head of the Silent Sisterhood, or for the Youngest Queen the Eldar had spoken of.
Corax watched the Eldar emit a low, hissing laugh.
The Primarch's cold gaze hid beneath his disheveled hair as he spoke evenly. After everything that had happened, his heart had become ash.
"I can cooperate with you. But I want to see Fulgrim first. He is my brother. I hope he can still be saved."
Would these words be a lie?
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Note:
In short, the Eldar want to use Fulgrim Ascension as a bait to yeet Hades toward Slaneesh, if he can kill her, that's good, if he can't and she escaped instead, he would surely give her a massive wound first, and they are fine with that too.
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