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The boundless void.
The Heart of Terror pressed forward from afar, its body stretching over a hundred kilometers, exuding an overwhelming pressure akin to a drifting asteroid.
In contrast, the Dreamweaver looked like a mere gnat before the abominable beast—more than ten times smaller.
Yet this warship from the Golden Age of Humanity showed no fear. Instead, it charged head-on with passionate fury.
BOOM—
Chaotic beams clashed with plasma fire, intertwining or exploding into one another. Blinding blasts filled the entire space around them.
The Chaos beam, strong enough to destroy a battleship, slammed into the void shields of the Dreamweaver, creating a cascade of ripples but failing to pierce the multilayered barrier.
Unwilling to be outdone, the Dreamweaver fired another fully charged nova cannon, penetrating the black shielding curtain and unleashing hundreds of boarding torpedoes.
The Savior was initiating a boarding battle!
...
Teleportation Hall.
Eden, fully armed, arrived with Carter and a squad of Thunder Custodians.
He was finalizing his preparations:
"Tarko, is everything ready on the Heart of Terror's end? Make sure nothing goes wrong—we can't afford any major setbacks."
The duel between the Primarch of Hope and the Dark Prince was critical, determining the future of the Terror Legion.
There are millions of Chaos Space Marines in the galaxy, and even more Chaos cultists. Various Chaos factions are spread throughout every corner of the galaxy.
As a rising power, the Terror Legion had to carve its own niche by taking a different path.
Eden had to leverage the Plague War—this galaxy- and Warp-shaking event—to make a name for his alter ego, the Dark Prince.
Only then could he attract more Chaos warriors and corrupted tech-priests, expanding his forces rapidly.
That was a necessary stage.
Otherwise, Abaddon the Despoiler wouldn't have spent so long challenging one warband after another and courting the favor of the fallen Primarchs.
Only after establishing his fame could he command overwhelming support.
Now, Eden's Dark Prince faced the same challenge.
The Dark Prince's reputation wasn't yet widespread.
Even with abundant weapons and divine boons to offer, he still needed to prove himself to gain attention from the broader Chaos galaxy.
Thankfully, Eden had a shortcut.
BOOM—
The Dreamweaver trembled slightly under the barrage.
This fierce skirmish—or rather, theatrical battle—was staged at a key transit node, surrounded by sensor arrays and space stations.
Plenty of Chaos eyes were watching from the shadows.
Thus, the battle needed to be authentic, intense—but also contained. A full-scale war would be counterproductive.
A boarding duel was the perfect choice.
Let the flagships exchange some fireworks, then jump straight to a one-on-one "King vs. King" showdown. It kept the spectacle high and the scale controlled—exactly what Warhammer wars loved to see.
Tarko studied the interior map of the Heart of Terror hanging in the air and, after confirming the last arrangements, turned to Eden and reported:
"My lord, all routes are secured. You will reach the combat arena within the Heart of Terror at maximum speed."
The duel was set on the uppermost level of the Heart of Terror.
It wasn't an easy arrangement.
Only the inner circles of both parties knew the true relationship between the Savior and the Dark Prince.
So during the operation, all Chaos warriors along the route had to be cleared out and replaced with demon scavengers acting as guards to allow unimpeded passage.
Now, everything was in place.
"Let's go. Be ready to receive us," Eden nodded and equipped several medium-grade holy ash grenades—his signature move. A few well-placed throws would really sell the act.
Soon, the boarding torpedoes struck their designated marks and deployed teleportation beacons.
BZZZZ—
Eden led his Thunder Custodians into the teleportation chamber and activated the transport.
...
Heart of Terror – Corridor.
The teleportation channel lit up.
Eden and the Thunder Custodians arrived in the twisted hallways of the abominable beast, instantly greeted by a heavy aura of Chaos.
He looked at the eerie corridor and found it oddly nostalgic.
"Advance at full speed. We'll complete our objective and extract ASAP."
He issued his command firmly.
This staged duel needed to wrap up fast before any uninvited guests could interfere.
He and his warriors advanced quickly toward the designated battlefield.
ROAR—
Within the warped corridors, the guardians—towering five to six meters tall, engulfed in warpflame—detected the intruders.
They let out savage howls, a terrifying sight to behold.
These demon scavengers, blessed anew by Diablo, had seen their combat power skyrocket—capable of tearing apart Terminators or worse.
Few could break through their defensive lines.
Awoooo!
But upon spotting the mighty four-armed Savior, their eyes instantly cleared.
They straightened up, formed ranks, and saluted.
Old habits die hard. Once humble janitors, they now instinctively lined up for inspection whenever their leader came by.
"What are you doing?" Eden scolded them, frustrated. "Stick to your roles! You're guards now—act like it!"
The demon scavengers broke into cold sweat under his rebuke, bowing and nodding frantically. Then, with a thunderous rumble, they returned to their positions, pretending to fiercely block the intruders.
Claws flailed. Thunder Custodians countered.
It was all for show. The resistance was flashy but ineffective—soon enough, the defense lines crumbled.
Before long, Eden and his warriors broke through wave after wave, finally reaching the grand hall—the appointed arena.
...
Inside the hall.
Dark warp energy surged like a tide, radiating fearsome pressure that would chill the soul of any living being.
At the heart of the storm stood the Black Iron Throne.
Upon it sat the Dark Prince, wreathed in hellfire, skeletal wings of bone and shadow spread wide, generating a deep darkness.
He slowly rose, scarlet eyes glaring down.
In an instant, his malevolent presence blanketed the entire hall. Even the battle-hardened warriors felt a shiver of primal fear.
But truthfully, the atmosphere wasn't nearly as hostile as it seemed.
After all, it was a room full of their own.
Carter and the Thunder Custodians were chatting with the Dark Thunder Custodians, curious about their mutated brothers' Chaos-forged weapons, bone spurs, and demonic wings.
Some were even envious.
After Diablo's blessing, the Dark Custodians had evolved into one of the most aesthetically pleasing mutant Chaos troops—radiating a savage, brutal beauty.
They were objectively cooler than the regular ones.
Not far off, the Dark Prince himself was staggering around like a broken NPC.
Eden was attempting to control both his main body and the alt simultaneously.
Because the clone lacked a conscious mind, it wasn't like the split-souled avatars others used in the galaxy. Dual-control was exhausting.
"Urgh… I feel like I'm about to have a mental breakdown…"
He struggled to maintain both personas, but gradually adapted. Still clunky though.
Maybe his psychic strength wasn't enough yet—he couldn't control two bodies in intense combat simultaneously.
Luckily, there was a workaround.
Turn-based combat. One move at a time.
BOOM—
Eden had the Dark Prince unleash a wave of warpflame, gouging the floor.
Then his main body fired a blast of psychic energy.
The flames and psychic force merged, detonating into a tremendous shockwave.
The battle had officially begun.
Carter drew his crimson chain greatsword and stared intently at his former lieutenant—now the leader of the Dark Thunder Custodians:
"Let's see what you've got."
He wanted to test how far the former subordinate had come.
The Dark Custodian leader swallowed hard, igniting his power sword. "Commander Carter… please go easy on me…"
He had been tormented by this man too many times in training.
Meanwhile, the other champions from both squads also picked their sparring partners.
This was both a drill and a real contest—each side eager to show off in front of the Savior and the Dark Prince.
No one wanted to be humiliated.
CLANG!
Carter and his dark counterpart clashed swords, erupting into ferocious combat.
The other warriors followed suit.
In an instant, the hall was engulfed in battle. Most of its infrastructure was reduced to rubble, and the fighting spread rapidly.
ZZZZZT—
The Dark Prince tore through the steel dome above and soared into the sky.
The Savior followed.
Moments later, explosive shockwaves ripped through the void—the clash between the Primarch of Hope and the Dark Prince obliterated one area after another.
Shadowy demonic visages and golden divine silhouettes roared across the skies, drowning the void in dazzling special effects.
That's why Eden had chosen the Heart of Terror for the fight—
It was big enough, and more importantly, easy to repair.
With enough warp energy, the damage could be fixed quickly—no one would cry over some wrecked rooms.
The two champions didn't even bother with close combat.
They just stood at range, flinging super attacks.
It was all about the spectacle—massive attacks, flashy effects.
True veterans of the stage.
The violent clash of energies began to tear at the very fabric of reality.
Tiny fractures in the material realm transmitted echoes of this battle straight into the Warp.
Gradually, the duel between Eden and the Dark Prince reached a fever pitch.
And then—under the horrified gaze of many Chaos observers—Eden unleashed all of his medium-grade Holy Ash Grenades in one furious sweep.
One after another, golden suns bloomed in the void of the galaxy, each more awe-inspiring than the last.
The divine radiance was so intense that it seared the vision of any who watched.
Of course, Holy Ash Grenades weren't thrown around lightly.
If he really incinerated his own Dark Prince clone, that would be a massive loss.
Thankfully, the grenades Eden used were special-effects versions—greater in scope and theatrical impact, but with significantly reduced destructive power.
This was one of the Savior's most prized and cutting-edge technologies—because what's a Savior without proper visual effects?
And the Dark Prince clone had prepared in advance, shielding himself and diving into a predetermined blind spot to avoid major harm.
As the brilliance of the golden suns dimmed—
The scorched, scarred form of the Dark Prince surged forth from the aftermath, and with unstoppable momentum, struck Eden down!
Just as he was about to deliver the finishing blow, a burst of psychic power repelled him.
Eden had struck back with the last of his strength, blood trailing from his form, his steps faltering—he was on the verge of collapse.
Fortunately, Carter and the Thunder Custodians arrived just in time to evacuate the Savior, teleporting him back to the Dreamweaver.
Moments later, the two flagships engaged in an even more intense firefight.
Ultimately, the fierce skirmish ended with the Dreamweaver's retreat.
The Heart of Terror did not give chase. It turned in another direction and vanished into the stars.
Eden's stage-managed spectacle had concluded perfectly. The curtain fell.
Back aboard the Dreamweaver, he returned to the miniature garden to sunbathe and recuperate.
The most crucial part of his "rivalry propaganda" campaign had been executed. Now all that remained was a flood of follow-up: stories, legends, dramatized accounts, and plenty of trash talk to stir public opinion.
That would be handled by the Savior's propaganda ministry and the Dark Prince's demon spin-doctors.
In any age, the ability to build a personal brand and accumulate believers or fans is invaluable.
Especially in this dark era where faith is power, that cohesion and prestige can determine the fate of entire legions.
A devoted following could even give one access to supreme power.
Even the Regent of the Imperium—who scorned the worship of gods—carefully maintained his public image.
He appointed apostles of war to spread his ideals and legends. His appearances were ritualized to perfection, always accompanied by a choir of pure, white-robed children singing his praises.
Some time later...
A crimson blaze cut through the star sea.
A colossal warship wreathed in bloodfire arrived at the battleground where Eden and the Dark Prince had clashed.
Its prow was enormous and grotesque, shaped like a snarling demon's head that opened and closed with unsettling ease. Huge bronze oars churned the void in defiance of natural law.
At the heart of the massive vessel, booming drums pounded with relentless rhythm, and a gigantic cannon made of bones emerged from the ship's spine.
It constantly spewed howling bloodflame.
This was a Khorne Bloodship, as ancient as a relic from the Age of Myth.
Yet its unnatural power made it just as deadly in this age.
It had become the flagship of Ka'Bandha, the Supreme Bloodthirster, to aid his crusade across the stars.
...
Skull Hall.
Ka'Bandha roared from his throne, sparks flying from his fanged maw.
"Where are they?! The Savior! The Dark Prince! FIND THEM!"
He had come all this way to challenge the Dark Prince—and found nothing.
"My lord," said the blood-drenched daemon tactician Baal, shaking his head. "They've long since departed—and they used some form of interference. No trace remains."
"However, my spies did record their battle…"
Baal gestured, and the Khorne sorcerers cast forth a flaming veil, within which played back footage of the duel.
The footage was distant, blurry—but one could still make out two titanic figures exchanging blows, warp and psychic power colliding in titanic bursts. The visuals were overwhelming, even in low fidelity.
The battle had ripped rifts in space itself.
Every daemon present was frozen in awe.
Then came the moment when Eden's cursed weapons unleashed their golden suns—lighting up the void.
The daemons trembled involuntarily.
They realized they likely wouldn't survive such cursed divine energy.
And yet—the Dark Prince had withstood it!
His terrifying form endured the scorching of the golden suns and struck Eden down.
The great Daemon-Slayer had been defeated!
This shocked the Khorne daemons even more. Eden's divine wrath filled them with dread—yet the Dark Prince had survived it and retaliated.
That was terrifying.
For many of them, it was the first time anyone had gained the upper hand against Eden.
Though it wasn't a decisive victory—it was close enough.
And for the first time, they felt a glimmer of reverence for the Dark Prince.
"He's strong…" Ka'Bandha muttered, eyes fixed on the image of the golden sun.
A flicker of caution crossed his face.
He now knew that the Dark Prince was not much weaker than himself.
Both could survive a full strike from such a devastating cursed weapon.
But what Ka'Bandha didn't know was that the Dark Prince had only survived thanks to the special effects version.
He had judged him by full-strength standards.
Ka'Bandha's actual power far exceeded what others estimated.
"No…"
When Ka'Bandha saw the Dark Prince knock Eden down—his sworn rival—he was filled with pain.
He howled in rage, eyes glowing red, "You can't fall like this! I won't allow it!"
It was as if he had lost his life's purpose.
Someone else had struck down his eternal foe—and it wasn't him.
What greater humiliation was there?
"Savior, GET UP! I won't allow you to be this weak!"
He was completely immersed in the drama now, eyes locked on the fallen Eden, silently praying for him to rise.
Thankfully, Eden soon counterattacked and repelled the Dark Prince.
Ka'Bandha sighed in relief. At least Eden hadn't lost—this was still a draw.
There was still hope.
His eyes grew cold. He gave a new order: "Keep searching for the Dark Prince. That Chaos scum will fall to me—his true rival."
This grudge would be avenged.
The bloodship blazed with fury and departed the sector.
The void slowly returned to peace, save for scattered wreckage that proved a ferocious skirmish had occurred.
But the shockwaves of the battle between Eden and the Dark Prince rippled outward—into deeper star regions and the Warp.
With careful manipulation by interested parties, a massive narrative storm was stirred up.
A terrible Chaos being—the Dark Prince—had defeated the Savior, the Daemon-Slayer! For the first time, a daemon had beaten that terrifying champion!
Others disputed it.
They claimed Eden had not lost. That it was an ambush on enemy turf, and he had retreated strategically.
Rumors flew wildly. Supporters of both sides waged a war of words across the galaxy and the Warp.
Exactly the result Eden had wanted.
As for Eden being knocked down—it didn't matter.
The Imperium was used to their warriors falling again and again, only to rise stronger.
Even the Regent had been crushed countless times—yet he remained Humanity's greatest hope.
The biggest consequence?
Some of the Chaos faith once centered on the Daemon-Slayer now shifted to the Dark Prince.
But it was just moving a belief system from one hand to the other.
In fact, because the Dark Prince was of the Chaos faction, the dark faith he attracted was even more potent—a huge net gain.
Thus, the rivalry between Eden and the Dark Prince became one of the most sensational tales of the Plague War.
Both now regarded each other as eternal nemeses.
As for Ka'Bandha?
Few still mentioned him.
Even Eden had publicly stated that Ka'Bandha was inferior to the Dark Prince.
He hadn't even been a match for Eden.
...
Khorne Bloodship – Skull Hall.
"Damn it!" roared Ka'Bandha, his warpflame incinerating the bone walls around him.
He trembled in fury and heartbreak. "I am the Savior's true archenemy!"
But no matter how he raged—
The galaxy and Warp spoke more of the Dark Prince. His feats spread like wildfire. How he had conquered plague worlds. How he had slain Nurgle's daemons.
Ka'Bandha was forgotten.
To reclaim attention, he personally led an assault on a plague world in the Scourge Stars.
He beheaded every Great Unclean One and daemon there, building a towering bone monument from their skulls.
It was a public challenge to both Eden and the Dark Prince.
But neither responded.
His declaration caused barely a ripple.
So many plague worlds had already been destroyed—only the Nurgle forces mourned, confused:
"You're challenging Eden and the Dark Prince—so why the hell are you attacking us?!"
And the two rivals? They never even acknowledged Ka'Bandha again.
As if he was no longer worthy of the main stage.
No heat. No buzz.
Worse, the galaxy and Warp were now abuzz with the rise of a new mysterious Chaos god: Diablo.
The Plague War continued—but its overwhelming momentum had faded.
Humanity began reclaiming lost territory.
Ka'Bandha fell into depression—like a has-been celebrity struggling to remain relevant.
But under Baal's guidance—
He began preparing an even greater war against the Nurgle daemons.
The Supreme Bloodthirster would seek such glorious victory that the galaxy and the Warp could not ignore.
To reclaim his lost glory.
Meanwhile, the forces of Nurgle were crumbling.
Even Mortarion and Ku'gath had vanished, staying hidden and low-profile.
...
Dreamweaver – Savior's Sanctuary – Miniature Garden.
At a desk among the flowers, Eden flipped through the latest battle reports.
He sensed something wasn't right.
Recently, the major Nurgle forces leading the Plague War had all gone quiet.
That was more worrying than any attack.
Eden took a deep breath, uneasy. "What are those bastards scheming…? Don't tell me they're about to unleash something big…"
Somewhere in unobserved void...
This was once the battlefield of Eden and the Dark Prince.
A giant black fly silently emerged, buzzing through the debris left behind. Its razor-sharp mouth glinted in the starlight.
It searched… for something.
Soon, it found a chunk of floating ice.
Inside the ice—a single drop of congealed blood.
The fly pierced the ice with its proboscis and greedily drank the blood.
Its compound eyes gleamed with excitement.
More precisely, its master's excitement.
He had obtained the blood of the Savior.
Which meant—the final piece for the Divine Plague to descend upon the galaxy… was in place.
(End of Chapter)
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