In the room behind the tavern, Alexander sat on a chair made of scrap metal and took out a red ring and a blue cross from his four-dimensional pocket.
The Truth and Falsehood Divination Machine, a tool that can determine whether any question is correct or incorrect.
Alexander had rented it once in Ashford to confirm that he could exchange for an anywhere door, the Emperor's situation, and the identity of Sanguinius in Ashford.
It was an extremely useful tool, with a rental price of 1.5 million for 10 questions.
Alexander pondered his words for a moment, then looked at the ring and cross on the table and asked softly:
"I can successfully find Sanguinius' remains in Angel Keep and resurrect Sanguinius, without suffering any severe harm myself."
As his voice fell, Alexander stared intently at the cross and ring on the table.
But neither of them moved, which meant there was no definitive answer to the question.
Alexander couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.
According to his experience in Ashford, if the Truth and Falsehood Divination Machine confirmed the truth or falsehood of a question, it would become an unchangeable future.
If the Truth and Falsehood Divination Machine had just confirmed the truth or falsehood of this question, then Alexander would absolutely not suffer any severe harm in any form before resurrecting Sanguinius, and would certainly be able to resurrect Sanguinius.
But the Truth and Falsehood Divination Machine deemed this question to have no truth or falsehood, indicating that everything still had variables.
"But Sanguinius' remains are indeed in Angel Keep," Alexander muttered softly, stroking his chin.
If Sanguinius were not in Angel Keep, then the Truth and Falsehood Divination Machine would have directly judged it as incorrect.
Alexander pondered for a moment, then asked again:
"The power preventing me from resurrecting Sanguinius mainly comes from the Blood God in the Warp."
The red circle flew up, indicating that Alexander's statement was correct.
Indeed, it was Blood God Khorne interfering in this matter. Alexander's objective was still unknown to the Empyrean.
But Baal was within the Scarlet Scar, a place deeply influenced by the Blood God, and the Blood God and his Greater daemons' gazes were constantly fixed here, with Baal receiving an especially large amount of attention.
Alexander had not yet been noticed, but when he began to approach Sanguinius' remains, he would inevitably be watched by the Blood God.
"The power preventing me is a Greater Daemon under the Blood God," Alexander asked again.
He did not name names, nor did he even try to describe the characteristics of that Greater Daemon, because doing so could very likely attract the attention of that Greater Daemon.
Kabanha, a Bloodthirster under Khorne, was a fanatic follower of Sanguinius, whose track record included once smashing the Archangel's two legs.
But Sanguinius had recovered, ripped off his wings, and shattered his spine with a knee.
Since then, Kabanha had fallen in love with... oh no, he had held a grudge against Sanguinius and the Blood Angels, and not long ago he was banished once again by the Blood Angels and Grey Knights working together.
Now, the largest gathering of Blood Angels in ten thousand years was on Baal, with nearly thirty thousand Blood Angels likely having already attracted Kabanha's attention.
If all went as expected, he should already be attempting to enter the material universe.
If he discovered that Alexander was trying to resurrect Sanguinius, this fellow would surely try every means to get there.
However, to Alexander's surprise, neither the red ring nor the blue cross on the table moved, indicating that the question Alexander asked had no right or wrong answer.
This made Alexander slightly taken aback.
Could it be more than one Khorne Greater Daemon? Not just Kabanha?
Alexander frowned slightly, then thought of a possibility.
"The power preventing me is a Greater Daemon and a daemon Prince under the Blood God."
Khorne Greater daemons, or Bloodthirsters, are native daemons in Khorne's domain, among the most powerful of the Blood God's creations.
Khorne daemon Princes, on the other hand, are beings chosen by the Blood God from the material world, granted Chaos boons, and elevated.
Kabanha, Skarbrand, and Angrath are Khorne Greater daemons, while Angron and the Seed of Destruction are Khorne daemon Princes.
The red circle on the table rose accordingly. A faint light flashed in Alexander's eyes.
It seemed his guess was correct. Not only Kabanha, but Alexander also had to face a daemon Prince.
The Seed of Destruction was sealed about five thousand years ago by a group of Blood Angels within a statue of Sanguinius, and has not yet been unsealed.
As for the other more minor daemon Princes, given the Blood God's Pay attention to of Sanguinius, it was unlikely he would send them.
The most likely candidate could only be... Sanguinius' brother, the daemon Primarch Angron, Lord of the Red Sands, Red Angel, Primarch of the World Eaters.
Of course, he was also an honorary member of the Harlequin Troupe, a mount for the Butcher's Nails, and a chosen of the Laughing God elevated to daemonhood by Khorne.
During the Siege of Terra, Sanguinius banished him, and Angron was likely to follow the anger of ten thousand years ago, invading reality to seek revenge on his brother.
Although his life was clownish and tragic, his mind wasn't very sharp, and he often served as a stepping stone in battles, a daemon Primarch was still a daemon Primarch.
Even Sanguinius himself, if alive, would have to fight a bitter battle to defeat him.
Alexander rubbed his temples slightly.
Kabanha and Angron, one of them was difficult enough to deal with, but two?
Khorne was truly going all out, with two of his top combatants acting simultaneously.
Even if Sanguinius were resurrected, it would be extremely difficult for him alone to fight Kabanha and Angron.
For a moment, Alexander even wanted to quickly find a star map, go to Caliban, and steal the sleeping beauty Lion El'Jonson to Baal.
After stealing him, he would throw the Lion to Fenris, framing the Space Wolves.
"At least two Primarchs would be a fair fight, wouldn't it?" Alexander couldn't help but mumble.
Astramael (Celestial Adalia)—this star, bound by the Emperor's will and compressed by his psychic power—burned fiercely within the Saint's Treasure Vault, providing energy for this Blood Angels' library.
Every time Chief Librarian Mephiston passed through the Saint's Treasure Vault, looking at Astramael (Celestial Adalia) hanging in the chest of Sanguinius' statue, he would always marvel at the Emperor's powerful psychic abilities.
To be able to compress a star to a diameter of a dozen meters, without losing any mass, and stably provide energy for the Blood Angels for ten thousand years.
Such a miracle, even for a powerful psyker like Mephiston, could not help but make him tremble, and he couldn't help but imagine the Emperor's appearance when he still walked among men.
But Mephiston was unwilling to stay long in the Saint's Treasure Vault; he was accustomed to darkness, accustomed to the night.
The scorching sun would make him feel his psychic powers decline.
It was this gloom that made many brothers of the Chapter fear him, and even dislike him.
Mephiston shook his head, passed through the Saint's Treasure Vault, and entered the Tomb of Malefis.
Most battle-brothers resided in the Blood Coffin Hall, but that was a place of life, unsuitable for Mephiston, who had returned from death.
He was a man of death, and the Tomb of Malefis buried the bodies of most Blood Angels Chief Librarians; it was reasonable for Mephiston to reside here.
In pale coffins made of ivory, regular blood transfusions kept the bodies of past Chief Librarians fresh.
Mephiston could almost feel the psychic echoes still present within them, and he hoped to gain inspiration from his predecessors.
Tyranid were marching on Baal, Abaddon the Despoiler had attacked Cadia again, and strange blue figures had appeared in the Nether Shield Star System... Mephiston's psychic premonitions constantly warned him.
He walked to his sarcophagus and lay down in its velvet lining.
The sarcophagus slowly closed, blood surged through Mephiston's body, and darkness slowly enveloped the man who had returned from the Black Rage.
Fire, fiercely burning flames ignited in the darkness, and countless chaotic illusions appeared before Mephiston's eyes.
He immediately realized that he was dreaming, which was extremely rare.
"Blood," a crisp voice whispered in his ear, like a maiden's soft song: "Blood is flowing on Cadia."
An ominous premonition arose in Mephiston's heart, and the illusions before him rippled, gradually revealing a clear vision to Mephiston.
Black stones glowing with green light burst one by one before Mephiston's eyes, revealing a planet straddling a distorted rift.
Cadia and the Eye of Terror, Mephiston recognized the planet and the rift.
"Land of Collapse, Place of Screams, Homeland and Destruction," the voice echoed again in Mephiston's ear, with a mournful sob.
Mephiston saw countless warriors gathered on Cadia, more than those gathered on Baal.
Blood and violence, blasphemy and loyalty were spilled on Cadia, countless daemons and traitors poured out of the Eye of Terror, swearing to destroy Cadia, to plunge blood, vengeance, and fear into the heart of the Imperium.
The Black Legion was marching, the World Eaters roared, the Iron Warriors forged blasphemous machinery, the Emperor's Children indulged in lust and pleasure, the Death Guard carried plague and pestilence, the Night Lords hung corpses from their towers, the Thousand Sons' magic stirred ashes, the Word Bearers chanted blasphemous scriptures again, and the Alpha claimed eternal loyalty.
Nine traitor Legions returned to the world, seeking to reignite the war of ten millennia ago.
Mephiston saw many fragmented scenes.
He saw a beast bathed in blood and fire roaring.
"Blood for the Blood God, skulls for the Skull Throne!" the beast roared.
He saw a burly Tech-Priest in a red robe.
"I come for the true Lord of Macragge," the Tech-Priest said.
He saw the Lion sleeping on the great rock slowly open his eyes.
"You are merely old," someone said to the Lion.
He saw a blue figure holding a staff standing before a roaring bloodson.
"Don't you want to know where Erebus is?" the figure asked the bloodson with a light laugh.
He also saw a wooden stick with a white cloth gently tapping on a silver skull.
Each tap ignited a soul-fire in the Warp.
"Praise the Omnissiah, praise Dora, Omnissiah..." The praises were endless.
Scene after scene appeared before Mephiston's eyes.
The information in these scenes was so complex, filled with incomprehensible meanings. Some scenes Mephiston would forget moments after seeing them.
Ultimately, Mephiston only saw burning Blackstone flames falling to the earth, causing stars to crumble, all things to disintegrate and split apart, and a sky interwoven with red, purple, blue, and green to swallow the stars, plunging everything into darkness.
Only a metallic blue figure gradually rose as the waves of the Empyrean surged and churned.
Mephiston roared in agony; he could feel all things sinking into the turbulent ocean of the Warp, and he, too, was falling into it.
"Greetings, Lord of Death."
A silver mask suddenly appeared before Mephiston. It belonged to a slender, tall figure, and a musical female voice emanated from the mask.
"I bring you the enlightenment of Ynnead, Lord of Death and Souls."
The will of this Eldar xenos witch was pouring into Mephiston's brain. Those visions were seen under her guidance, allowing Mephiston to perceive them amidst the tumultuous waves of the Empyrean.
Ynnead, Lord of Death and Souls. Mephiston knew this name. It was the Eldar god of death.
Within the Eldar's infinite spirit circuit, a new entity born from the power of the ancient God-King Asuryan and pure Eldar souls, a god of death.
Eldar seers believed that Ynnead would only truly be born when almost all Eldar had died, and would then utterly destroy the Eldar's enemy, Slaanesh.
This Eldar witch was her apostle.
"Xenos!!!" Mephiston let out an enraged roar, cursing the blasphemous xenos that had invaded his consciousness.
However, before Mephiston could speak, he heard the sudden sound of hooves echoing in the Warp.
The Eldar witch's body trembled with fear, and she cried out in a panic: "No, I did not come for blood—"
A sharp saber cut through the dream.
Eagles screeched, horses neighed, and a hunter laughed heartily.
The Eldar witch's head flew into the sky, blood gushing.
"You dog-faced xenos, always prattling on with your riddles." A laughing curse came from before Mephiston.
The language was low gothic, interspersed with unique vocabulary. Mephiston knew this language was a remnant of the culture from Terra's eastern Dragon Kingdom.
A steppe rider had appeared at some unknown moment, sitting astride his steed, looking down at Mephiston.
The rider had eyes like an eagle, gazing down at Mephiston from above.
Mephiston felt as if his entire being had been seen through by those eyes, his whole self exposed beneath the hunter's hawk-like gaze.
"Lord of Death?" The rider laughed heartily, as if in mockery: "There are too many contenders for that name, son of Sanguinius."
"You have some power, but you are still the weakest among them."
Mephiston's pupils trembled slightly. He realized who this steppe rider standing before him was.
"Are you...?"
"Boy, you are the Chief Librarian of the Blood Angels!" The steppe rider scoffed: "If you don't recognize me, then I should suggest Sanguinius find an Ogryn to replace you!"
"I bring you revelation from the Path of Heaven."
The steppe rider mimicked the Eldar's tone playfully, saying:
"Tyranid spies will infiltrate Baal; you must be wary of it."
"Kabanha is attempting to enter the material universe; you have gathered too many, and it salivates."
"Abaddon is completing his Thirteenth Black Expedition; Blackstone will fall, and the rift will open."
"My brothers will return one after another, Guilliman and your father. Guess who will be the first unlucky one?"
"One of the candidates for the Lord of Death, the Omnissiah, and another unknown position, has already arrived at Baal III. You must make a choice: support him or oppose him?"
"Oh, my father's great power is also gradually growing stronger, but whether this is good or bad, I do not know."
Direct and clear information was conveyed through the steppe rider's mouth. Mephiston was dumbfounded.
He often received enlightenment and prophecies from the Warp, but most were intertwined with illusions and riddles, difficult to discern.
This was the first time Mephiston had heard something so direct and unpretentious from the steppe rider.
Was this still the Warp?? So clear and organized??
But even so, Mephiston felt somewhat overwhelmed for a moment.
Tyranid spies will infiltrate Baal?
Kabanha is about to descend?
Cadia is likely to fall?
The Primarchs are about to return, and Sanguinius and Guilliman could both be the first?
The Lord of Death, the Omnissiah, and a candidate for another unknown position have already arrived at Baal III, and the Blood Angels must make a choice?
The Emperor's power is growing, but it may not be a good thing?
Mephiston felt somewhat overwhelmed for a moment.
Among the things this steppe rider spoke of, the Tyranid were surprisingly the least important.
Even Kabanha was only the second least important.
The other matters were simply too shocking to Mephiston's understanding.
"My Lord!"
Mephiston couldn't help but ask, even though he knew such an inquiry in the Warp was extremely dangerous.
But if it could bring back his genefather, and allow the Blood Angels to make the right choices in the future, he had to take the risk:
"How exactly can our father return? And who is that candidate? Is he human? And why might the Emperor's increasing strength not necessarily be a good thing?"
The steppe rider's eagle eyes gazed at Mephiston. Those eyes seemed capable of seeing through the essence of most things in the world.
But the rider's reply was...
"How would I know? How could I know so much?"
The steppe rider snorted a laugh. He lightly patted the steed beneath him.
The steed reared its hooves high, and before Mephiston could react, the hooves stomped fiercely on Mephiston's face.
"My Lord!!!" Mephiston cried out in alarm: "Great Khan!!"
He abruptly sat up, and scarlet psychic energy surged towards the sarcophagus lid.
The ivory sarcophagus lid shattered into two pieces, crashed against a distant wall, and then diagonally impaled the coffin of a deceased Chief Librarian.
Pneumatic seals sprang open erratically, and hibernation monitors embedded in black carapaces were torn off, blood gushing from the tubes.
"By the Blood of Sanguinius!!!"
Mephiston involuntarily gasped, breathing heavily. He recalled the vision he had just seen in his dream, and after a brief hesitation, he whispered:
"By the Eagle of Chogoris as well."
He knew that a legendary entity had provided assistance to the Blood Angels.
A rumbling commotion echoed from outside the Tomb of Malefas.
Clearly, the disturbance Mephiston had created had been heard by the other members of the Blood Angels Librarians and their guardians.
The sound of them descending the stairs reached Mephiston's ears; the sound was frantic but without hesitation.
Evidently, they were prepared.
Whether to help Mephiston or to control an out-of-control monster.
The doors of the Tomb of Malefas were pushed open.
Epistolary Gaius Lascelles—the second-in-command of the Librarians—led fully armed warriors into the Tomb of Malefas.
They had clearly prepared for the worst, their taut bodies revealing their fear, tension, and resolve.
What kind of destruction would an out-of-control Mephiston cause? Even Mephiston himself feared this.
"Mephiston!" Gaius Lascelles aimed his bolter at Mephiston's head, though he knew it would be of little use: "Is that my friend Mephiston standing there, or a monster fallen to the curse?"
Gaius Lascelles was one of the few Blood Angels who shared a friendship with Mephiston; others mostly feared and mistrusted Mephiston.
"It is I." Mephiston tried to keep his voice as calm as possible: "I have not lost myself."
"By the Blood." Gaius Lascelles breathed a sigh of relief: "Thanks to the Emperor and Sanguinius, I was almost ready to die."
"What happened to you? What is going on?" Mephiston's friend couldn't help but ask.
Gaius Lascelles' gaze fell on the ivory plate diagonally impaled in the coffin of a former Chief Librarian as he asked.
"..I received a revelation." Mephiston chose his words carefully: "I need to see Commander Dante."
In the back room of the Blood Scorpions Tavern in Angel's Landing, Alexander looked at the Truth and Falsehood Divination Machine before him and asked again:
"I want to obtain a map that can be used with an anywhere door to go to Baal, and I should go to the east side of Angel's Landing."
A blue cross flew up from the table, indicating that what Alexander said was incorrect.
Not the east side, then. Alexander didn't hesitate and continued:
"I want to obtain a map that can be used with an anywhere door to go to Baal, and I should go to the west side of Angel's Landing."
The blue cross flew up again.
"I want to obtain a map that can be used with an anywhere door to go to Baal, and I should go to the north side of Angel's Landing."
Still a cross, but Alexander's lips curved into a smile:
"If I go to the south side of Angel's Landing today, I can obtain a map that can be used with an anywhere door to go to Baal."
This time, as expected, a red circle flew up, indicating that what Alexander said was correct.
To obtain a map that could take him to Baal, Alexander should go to the south side of Angel's Landing. There, Alexander would find an opportunity.
Although he didn't know the reason, nor what he would encounter there,
Since the Truth and Falsehood Divination Machine had judged it correct, Alexander only needed to go to the south side of Angel's Landing to obtain a map to Baal.
Alexander glanced at the remaining chances on the Truth and Falsehood Divination Machine, stroked his chin, and continued:
"Before obtaining the map to Baal, I will not suffer any form of serious harm."
A red circle bounced up from the table, and Alexander's lips curved into a smile.
It was done.
He stood up, walked out of the tavern, and headed south in Angel's Landing.
Alexander didn't notice that, at this moment, a wave of anger surged in the Warp.
"Cawww!!!!" The Lord of Change let out a sharp shriek.
Rough grit blew across Angel's Landing.
Alexander walked south along Sanguinius Avenue, which was relatively cooler, protected by the shadows cast by angelic wings.
He adjusted the decorative glasses on his face, silently glancing at the Astartes occasionally walking down the street.
They were primarily warriors of the Crimson Blades, divided into small groups, performing rites in the city to honor the traces left by Sanguinius.
The Blood Knights, however, were nowhere to be seen on the streets, either having left or gathered somewhere.
Ordinary pedestrians were even scarcer, with most people only daring to hide in their homes, watching the Astartes from afar, some not even daring to cast a glance.
Heavy footsteps crunched on the sandy ground. A figure in black armor, with a skull-shaped helmet, approached.
The angry skull-shaped helmet looked at Alexander, its neatly arranged metal teeth clamped tightly on the breathing tube, and its pale green eye lenses shimmered in the sun.
A Crimson Blades Space Marine Chaplain, Alexander raised an eyebrow slightly.
The death-symbolizing face certainly didn't scare Alexander; he even observed the Chaplain with interest.
The Chaplain, accompanied by several Space Marines, walked towards Alexander. He nodded slightly, his power armor creaking.
"Greetings, honorable resident of Baal II," the Chaplain's voice was deep, carrying an accent distinctly different from Baal and the Underworld.
His voice, amplified through a speaker, was slightly jarring: "Do you know where the Grand Plaza is?"
"I wish to pay my respects to our Father."
The Chaplain seemed to be trying to make his voice sound amiable,
but combined with his helmet, his voice, and the amplifier, it was enough to make every child in the city wet their pants at night.
Alexander blinked lightly.
A gentle Chaplain? How rare, especially among the sons of Sanguinius.
In fact, let alone the sons of Sanguinius, even among the sons of Guilliman, Chaplains were often the most fanatical individuals in a Chapter.
Could this be the opportunity to get the map, as determined by the Truth and Falsehood Divination Machine?
But Alexander hadn't yet reached the south side of Angel's Landing.
"I am not a native of Baal II," Alexander smiled faintly: "I am Neoth Da Xiong, a pipe repairman from Ashford, responsible for plugging broken pipes to prevent sewage, mutants, and GSC from flooding into the Lower Nest."
"I am also here to express my respect and reverence for the Archangel."
When Alexander spoke of respect and reverence, Sanguinius at the corner of his eye noticeably twitched with disdain, as if questioning Alexander's piety and respect for the Archangel.
What a damned birdman.
"But I seem to be lost as well," Alexander shrugged, speaking with a hint of helplessness.
He didn't directly steer the conversation towards the map, feeling it would be too abrupt.
The Chaplain watched Alexander for a few seconds, then said in a gentle voice: "I see, Neoth from Ashford. I have heard of your battles; your loyalty is commendable."
"Lost? Your companions seem to be in the south of the city; just follow Sanguinius Avenue."
The Chaplain turned to point Alexander in the right direction.
The mention of Ashford seemed to have evoked a positive response from the Chaplain, as his tone became slightly less deep and somber.
Companions? Where would I get companions? Another group of Ashfordians?
Alexander didn't show his inner confusion; the face wrapped around him was a fake one molded from Body Clay, making it easy to control his expression.
"Thank you for your guidance," Alexander nodded slightly in acknowledgment, and the Chaplain returned the gesture.
Then Alexander continued towards the south of the city, while the Chaplain turned to continue searching for the Grand Plaza.
"Greetings, honorable resident of Baal II."
The Chaplain found another pedestrian, to whom he said, as the pedestrian trembled:
"Do you know where the Grand Plaza is?"
"I wish to pay my respects to our Father."
His words were identical to what he had just said to Alexander.
Alexander, who had covertly glanced at him, twitched his mouth slightly. This Chaplain, though gentle in tone, was meticulous in his actions, speaking as if following a template.
Could it be that when he speaks, he's always following the toilet paper—oh no, the codex astartes?
Alexander retracted his gaze before the Chaplain could notice.
As a Space Marine, the Chaplain's senses were extraordinarily enhanced.
But beneath Alexander's fake skin, made from Body Clay, was the Phantom Thief DX Suit, and with the sensory enhancements brought by that pale deathly aura, his reaction speed was even faster than the Space Marine Chaplain's.
This was why he hadn't revealed any substantial flaws in front of the Chaplain.
Alexander silently disappeared at the end of the street.
After Alexander disappeared, the Chaplain slowly raised his head, looking in the direction he had vanished.
"Brother, was there anything suspicious about him?" asked a Crimson Blades Battle Brother standing beside the Chaplain.
".." The Chaplain was silent for a moment, only the creaking of his power armor resounding: "No."
The Chaplain detected neither Chaos corruption nor genetic mutation.
"It's just his demeanor that surprises me; rarely does a mortal speak with me without fear. Has the war in Ashford tempered its inhabitants? Or does their unique faith sustain them?"
The Chaplain recalled the so-called Saint Doraemon. Commander Dante had chosen to temporarily tolerate this sect that worshipped a saint not recognized by the Adeptus Ministorum.
If the man named Neoth was a companion of the Ashfordians in the south of the city, he should also be a follower of Saint Doraemon.
"It's strange, the name Neoth, it even gives me a sense of the sacred, as if the name itself is worthy of respect..."
Vehicles, crudely assembled from simple machinery, were parked at the southern edge of Angel's Landing, beside a thin red mist.
A group of people with Ashfordian faces, dressed in linen clothes, gathered by the vehicles, seemingly clutching something and praying in low voices.
"..Spirit of the Machine... bless our vehicles to never stall..."
"Hope... bless us to arrive safely."
The low prayers reached Alexander's ears, and he walked forward with a hint of curiosity.
Seeing Alexander approach, they immediately stopped praying and stuffed the items in their hands into their pockets.
They eyed Alexander warily, eventually settling their gaze on his face, which looked neither like a Baal native nor an Ashfordian.
"Fellow villagers, where is your convoy headed?" Alexander smiled slightly, asking in low gothic with an Ashfordian accent.
Hearing Alexander's accent, the Ashfordians' gazes softened considerably in an instant.
"Second Fardiya Town," said the leader of the Ashfordians.
Second Fardiya... Alexander blinked lightly.
"What a coincidence, we're going the same way," he said with a smile.
"What a coincidence, we're going the same way," Alexander said, a smile appearing on his lips.
He decided to act according to the Truth and Falsehood Divination Machine's judgment.
Second Fordia Town. Alexander had lived in hive city Fordia in Ashford. This sounded like a place where Ashford refugees gathered.
He might even meet some old acquaintances there. Alexander's gaze swept over the flaxen clothes of these Ashford people.
The color scheme was very, even nine-tenths, familiar.
Was this his chance to find the map?
Hearing Alexander say they were going the same way, the Ashford people visibly relaxed their guard.
In their eyes, Alexander had become an ordinary Ashford person looking for a ride.
"You want a ride?" the leader of the Ashford group asked.
The leader's face was weathered, his chin covered in stubble, and a gruesome scar ran from his temple to his jaw.
Alexander recognized that the scar was left by a Tyranid blade, and by its size, it was likely from a Hormagaunt.
This leader was very lucky; he took a hit from a Hormagaunt and didn't fall.
Alexander slowly nodded, "I can pay for the ride."
The leader hesitated, "We need to discuss it."
With that, the leader turned and huddled with his companions, discussing in low voices.
Their voices were faint, but they couldn't escape Alexander's senses, which had been enhanced by the Phantom Thief DX Suit.
"He does seem to be from Ashford; his accent is familiar. The thirteenth district and several nearby major districts all have this accent."
"It's not that we doubt his identity, but many people have prejudices against our faith."
"Yes, in the Red Mist, with no village ahead and no inn behind, it would be terrible if a conflict broke out."
"But being away from home… sigh, it's not easy for anyone. If we can help, we should."
"Don't forget bishop's teachings to us, don't forget the Saint's demands of us. We can temporarily hide our faith to avoid conflict; the Saint will permit it."
The last sentence made the Ashford people make up their minds.
The leader looked up and walked over to Alexander:
"Get in, brother, we need to reach Second Fordia Town before nightfall."
"The Baal desert nights are too dangerous."
Alexander nodded slightly, a smile on his face, "Thank you, I will pay you."
The leader waved his hand, signaling Alexander not to say more.
He patted Alexander's back, leading him to the vehicle and saying, "We're all Ashford people."
"Our homeland is gone, but family isn't. We're all one family; don't talk like that."
As they spoke, the vehicle rattled to life, slowly driving into the now thinning Red Mist.
Seeing that these Ashford people had so easily agreed to give him a ride, and were even willing to forgo payment, Alexander couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and say, "My payment would be very generous."
Hearing this, the leader couldn't help but laugh. He shook his head and said, "No means no. The unity among Ashford people is more precious than any reward."
Such a familiar feeling. Alexander's eye twitched slightly.
If it weren't for the fact that these Ashford people showed no signs of mutation, Alexander would have started to suspect they were GSC.
And in Ashford, besides GSC, the only other selfless group like this was...
Damn, could it be that Reyna? She wouldn't still be obsessed with religious superstition, would she?
Alexander couldn't help but show a slightly strange expression.
"Danton," the leader introduced himself with a smile while Alexander was thinking.
As he introduced himself, the scar on his face wrinkled slightly, making it look even more gruesome.
"Huang Daxiong," Alexander returned the smile, changing Neoth to Huang.
In the Lower Nest, the name Neoth was already well-known due to the GSC cult's propaganda.
Alexander didn't want to attract too much attention for now.
"Are you a member of the Ark Gang?" Alexander asked the leader, Danton.
Hearing this, Danton was visibly stunned, then immediately showed an expression of pride:
"Brother, your observation skills are truly sharp. I am a former Ark Gang member. I once fought on the battlefield with Cult Leader Reyna, One-Eye, and Leman Russ."
He pointed to the scar on his face as if it were a medal of honor:
"This is a scar left from defending the Ninth District entrance in the Lower Nest. That damned Hormagaunt almost killed me."
"Thankfully, Sanguinius, the Emperor, and Saint Do—"
Danton's voice broke off, as if he suddenly remembered he needed to hide his faith, so he quickly changed his words:
"Thankfully, Sanguinius, the Emperor, and the Saint protected me, and I narrowly survived."
"Brother Danton, you've told that story hundreds of times already."
The Ashford person driving turned his head and joked:
"Brother Huang Daxiong, be careful, he can tell you the whole way."
"I can brag about this for a lifetime, alright!" Danton laughed heartily upon hearing this.
Then he gave a slight smile, shook his head, and said, "Of course, compared to those true legends and the brothers who died in battle, I'm just a small fry."
"I know my abilities are lacking, and that's why I chose to come to Baal III."
Chose to come to Baal III? Hearing this, Alexander was slightly stunned.
But before he could think deeply, he saw the Ashford people in the vehicle passing around a kettle to drink water.
After Danton took a gulp of water, he handed the kettle to Alexander.
"Have some, it's going to be very dry crossing the desert ahead."
Alexander nodded slightly; he knew that every drop of water on Baal III was extremely precious.
"Thank you," Alexander took the kettle and also took a gulp of water, feeling his throat, which was dry from the climate, become more comfortable.
"What for? It's just a sip of water," Danton chuckled. "Back when I was with Reyna, Leman Russ, and One-Eye on the battlefield, we were willing to give up our lives..."
"See, see, he's starting again!" The driver couldn't help but laugh.
The vehicle was immediately filled with laughter.
Listening to everyone's laughter, Danton immediately slapped his thigh: "Then I'll tell you something else."
"I witnessed it with my own eyes," Danton lowered his voice, "I witnessed Leman Russ grow wings."
As he said this, the atmosphere in the air immediately became serious.
"Danton," the person sitting next to Danton shook his head at him, subtly glancing at Alexander.
"It's alright, Brother Huang Daxiong isn't a bad person."
Danton shook his head, looked at Alexander, and said:
"Brother, what I'm saying is nothing else, just what I saw with my own eyes. Don't overthink it."
"We are all devout good people, and I believe you are too."
"Yes, yes," Alexander nodded approvingly.
Sanguinius chuckled, as if finding Alexander's piety a joke.
"I witnessed Leman Russ grow wings, pure white with a hint of blue, so sacred and magnificent."
"I saw him soar, like Sanguinius reborn, holding a spear forged from light, piercing through the brainbug and killing the Tyrant in the blink of an eye."
Danton's voice involuntarily carried a hint of reverence:
"Brother Huang Daxiong, at that moment, I knew that Leman Russ must possess something divine."
"The Archangel, the Great Archangel, must have been with him at that time."
As Danton recounted, the other people in the vehicle also showed expressions of reverence.
Only Alexander's lips curved into an awkward yet knowing smile.
Although what Danton said was indeed true, hearing it from someone else made Alexander feel a bit eerie.
Evidently, some Ashford people had already started to worship him as some kind of saint, angel, or even god.
This sent shivers down Alexander's spine; he was not a god.
Sanguinius couldn't help but shake its head. It seemed to say something, but Alexander still couldn't hear clearly.
Its power had not yet recovered enough to pierce through the barrier between reality and the Warp.
Apparently noticing Alexander's expression, Danton sighed softly and stopped talking about Leman Russ.
As the makeshift vehicle gradually entered the depths of the desert, the surrounding Red Mist also grew thicker.
Even Baal's sun became hazy and blurred, turning into a faint, sickly little dot in the sky.
Conversely, the Scarlet Scar, which spanned the sky like a wound on the physical universe, became clearer.
Alexander glanced at the Scarlet Scar in the sky, recalling the legend that this scar was carved out by the Blood God's blade.
It hung in the sky, almost dripping with blood.
"Brother Huang Daxiong, don't look too long," Danton quickly warned.
"This isn't like the hive city; the sky is unobstructed, the Scarlet Scar is fully visible, and it's also clearer than in the Netherworld Star System."
Danton lowered his voice and said:
"If you look too long, anger will rise in your heart, you'll become agitated, and you might even fall into hallucinations and indiscriminately harm others."
Why do I feel no effect? Alexander raised an eyebrow, not voicing his thought.
He already had some resistance to psychic powers, so the indirect influence of the Scarlet Scar might not affect him much.
If it did have an effect, he could always recite the Rogal Dorn's Heart-Cleansing Mantra a few more times.
The vehicle slowly stopped in the desert, and the driver looked back at everyone behind him:
"The car is running great today; the engine seems happy and hasn't given me any trouble."
"But no matter how strong the car is, people can't keep going... Let's all rest for a bit and grab something to eat."
Alexander blinked in confusion, watching the Ashford people around him nod in agreement.
They couldn't help but hold their bottoms, groaning as they stood up from their seats, stretching their bodies.
Danton noticed Alexander's slightly bewildered gaze and couldn't help but click his tongue and ask:
"Brother Huang Daxiong? Are you iron-butted? How can you sit still with all this bumping?"
Hearing Danton's words, Alexander suddenly understood.
This vehicle, being cobbled together, was indeed very bumpy when driven.
But Alexander truly had an iron butt; beneath the fake butt made of Body Clay was the shock-absorbing metal butt of the Phantom Thief DX Suit.
Thinking of this, he grinned:
"I trained this by squatting on the toilet. I can now squat on the toilet for ten thousand years."
Danton couldn't help but laugh out loud at this. "You're something else! Come down and eat something with us."
Alexander flipped out of the vehicle, and Danton took out a few pills from his pocket, distributing them to everyone present.
These were anti-radiation medicines, a necessity for life on most planets in the Scarlet Scar.
Without taking this medicine, one could easily mutate under the dangerous radiation of the Scarlet Scar.
Alexander took one and put it in his mouth, even though he didn't need it.
As the Ashford people began to unload food from the vehicle, Alexander, while they weren't paying attention, took out several portions of fire scorpion meat from the four-dimensional pocket, which he had brought from the Blood Scorpion Tavern, and also a bottle of One-Eye's aged Scarlet Wine.
Ashford had been destroyed in flames, and One-Eye's whereabouts were unknown, so this wine was becoming rarer with each bottle drunk.
By the time Danton and the others had taken the food from the vehicle, Alexander had already opened the wine bottle.
Danton looked at the scorpion meat and the Scarlet Wine in Alexander's hand with a bewildered and astonished expression.
"Where did you get so much stuff?" Danton couldn't help but ask.
Alexander smiled, not answering his question, but instead brought One-Eye's Scarlet Wine to his face.
"Smell it," Alexander said with a smile.
Danton couldn't help but take a sniff, and then he smelled a stimulating, familiar, and sweet scent of wine.
"This is the smell of Ashford," Danton said blankly.
"I brought it from Ashford," Alexander motioned for Danton to get some containers for the wine.
Danton eagerly nodded, quickly retrieved several metal cups from the vehicle, and carefully wiped them clean.
All the Ashford people watched expectantly as Alexander poured the Scarlet Wine into the cups. The bright red liquid bubbled in the cups, releasing a scent that did not belong to Baal II.
This was wine brewed in Ashford, by Ashford people, using Ashford methods and ingredients.
Alexander handed a cup to every Ashford person present.
Danton's hand trembled as he took the cup.
"To Ashford."
Alexander gently clinked his cup with Danton's and said:
"And to you, to all who lived and died."
"To Ashford." The surrounding Ashford people also successively took their cups and raised them high.
"To Fordia city!" "To the Netherworld Star System!" "To Cult Leader Reyna!" "To Leman Russ!" "To the warriors of Cadian and the Ark Gang!" "To the Blood Angels!"
Danton took a deep gulp of the rich, red wine, his eyes moist, and he shouted, raising his cup:
"To Ashford! To Saint Doraemon!"
"Danton!" The Ashford people standing beside Danton were startled, and Danton immediately realized he had said the wrong thing.
The moment he heard the words "To Saint Doraemon," Alexander's lips couldn't help but twitch a few times.
Danton's face also showed some embarrassment: "Brother Huang Daxiong, actually we…"
"Hmm?" Before Danton could finish speaking, Alexander couldn't help but frown.
He suddenly turned his head to look into the thick, bloody mist behind him; his enhanced vision noticed...
In the swirling bloody mist, two figures were gradually appearing—two sturdy figures over two meters tall.
Sanguinius let out a wail that was almost a lament.