Dixus hastily knelt, as if she thought Alexander was questioning her piety.
Sanguinius trembled slightly and said something, which Alexander still couldn't hear clearly.
But Alexander could guess what Sanguinius was complaining about city of Perfectio.
Alexander motioned for Dixus to stand up and not to kneel.
"Do either of you have a map of the location of Angel Keep right now?" Alexander asked them.
If he had a map, Alexander could use the anywhere door to directly enter Angel Keep, easily bypassing its external defenses.
Currently, a five-digit number of Sons of Sanguinius were gathered near Angel Keep, almost the largest assembly of Blood Angels and their successor chapters during the Horus Heresy, nearly one-thirtieth of the total Astartes in the Imperium.
The defense level of Angel Keep, the Second Empire Emperor's palace, was now second only to the Terra Imperial Palace.
There were indeed a few items that could make Alexander invisible on a physical or psychological level, but they either had flaws or were too expensive.
For example, the stone hat that could make others completely ignore Alexander's existence cost almost one-tenth of Alexander's current savings to rent.
Once exchanged, there wouldn't be enough funds for the item needed to resurrect Sanguinius.
One-Eye shrugged, sighed, and said, "This task is too difficult for us."
"An accurate map of Angel Keep? How could we, mere mortal refugees, get our hands on that? Have you ever tried to infiltrate it?"
One-Eye looked at Dixus; he had witnessed the infiltration skills of the Dying-worshippers before.
"..We tried two months ago." Dixus shook her head and said, "But we were discovered before we could act."
"That Chief Librarian, who was like a corpse, discovered us through his precognitive abilities and stopped us."
The Chief Librarian, Mephiston, looks like a corpse?
Alexander's eyes twitched slightly, and he raised an eyebrow.
Mephiston is one of the most powerful psyker in the Imperium.
It would be impossible for Dixus and her group to infiltrate without Mephiston sensing their psychic powers.
"Furthermore, my Lord, the entire Angel Keep has undergone significant changes," Dixus said, organizing her thoughts.
"Chapter Master Dante issued an order for excavation to take place within several thousand meters of Angel Keep."
"Ancient structures, buried by ten thousand years of sandstorms, have been unearthed to house the assembling Angels."
"They even discovered an ancient and sturdy city wall, which has become Angel Keep's new shield."
Upon hearing this, Alexander nodded slightly.
He knew a little about this.
With Guilliman splitting the legions into one-thousand-man Chapters, the Blood Angels on Baal were no longer enough to fill Angel Keep, which once housed the legions.
Most of that ancient fortress had been swallowed by Baal's yellow sand over ten thousand years, leaving only the core area.
But with the arrival of support from the successor Chapters, Chapter Master Dante ordered the blood thralls to re-excavate the lost parts of Angel Keep.
Old bunkers, towers, meeting rooms, and city walls were discovered, and Angel Keep's perimeter expanded by several thousand meters.
It was a fortress, sturdy and vast enough, where the Archangel once led the legions, and the best place to defend against the Tyranid invasion.
But Alexander guessed that Sanguinius' remains should still be stored in the core area, the part that was never buried by sand.
Old maps should still be usable, allowing Alexander to quietly infiltrate Angel Keep with his anywhere door.
"I only need a map of the former core area," Alexander said to Dixus and One-Eye.
"Clues will also suffice."
Dixus was silent for a moment, then said, "My Lord, we have only been on this planet for about three months."
"But a group of evil creatures had already infiltrated Baal much earlier, lurking in the desert, and they likely have a map of Angel Keep's interior."
One-Eye was visibly stunned when he heard Dixus' words, then asked, "Are you talking about the genestealer?"
"Yes, indeed…" One-Eye nodded. "These guys seem to know Baal very well."
"These bastards previously tried to corrupt refugees from Ashford, but fortunately, we knew a lot about them and followed the clues to discover their whereabouts."
"However, when the Angels arrived to support us and encircle them, these damned mutant monsters suddenly vanished into the desert, leaving no trace."
"We suspect that these genestealer might have quietly infiltrated Baal many years ago, and for over a hundred years, they have been lurking in the desert, slowly developing their forces and gathering intelligence on Baal."
"Only recently, with the Tyranid's imminent arrival, did these guys start to become slightly active, and we just happened to catch them in the act, exposing them."
Listening to Dixus and One-Eye, Alexander stroked his chin and fell into thought.
genestealer... Indeed, in the upcoming Battle of Baal, genestealer did appear.
They, along with a Lictor, infiltrated Angel Keep, attacking the blood coffin hall where new recruits were trained as a diversion, and then taking the opportunity to destroy Angel Keep's Void Shield.
They clearly had a good understanding of the situation inside Angel Keep.
It seemed the Tyranid had been preparing to invade Baal for a long time, possibly even for over a hundred years.
The genestealer, infected by the Tyranid, must have been extremely cautious to quietly infiltrate Baal and gather such useful information for the Tyranid.
They surely possessed a map of Angel Keep's interior.
And for Alexander, finding them would not be difficult... Alexander had a person-finding cane.
With enough information, he could easily find anyone.
"Tell me about the genestealer lurking on Baal, as specifically as possible," Alexander said to Dixus and One-Eye.
"This goes back to when we first arrived on Baal, before we split up," One-Eye began.
"Initially, most of the refugees from Lexio had either come to believe in Saint Doraemon or High Sister Magda, while a significant portion of the Ashford refugees only believed in Sanguinius."
"We thought nothing of it; whether they believed in Sanguinius, Saint Doraemon, the Emperor himself, or the local Lexio faith, it didn't matter, as the ultimate enemy was the same."
"Unless they believed in the twisted cult of the genestealer."
Dixus continued for One-Eye: "We were always wary of that possibility. My sisters quietly infiltrated among those cultists who believed in Sanguinius, and by following the clues, we discovered one of their small strongholds and a chapel."
"These genestealer might not have yet received information about Ashford from the Tyranid; they didn't understand our capabilities and underestimated us, the Dying-worshippers' assassins."
"My sisters and I infiltrated their stronghold and chapel, and we found that they indeed worshipped Sanguinius, but not the Sanguinius as we understood him."
Listening to Dixus, Alexander couldn't help but raise his eyebrows; he seemed to guess what would happen next.
genestealer do not only worship the Four-Armed Emperor; they often adapt their tactics based on local needs, developing new, twisted beliefs.
For example, in a Forge World, they might develop a 'Blade Omnissiah'; in the Five Hundred Worlds, they might develop a 'Brood Mother Guilliman.'
If they happened to invade a daemon World, there might even be 'Copulating Slaanesh,' 'Brainworm Tzeentch,' 'Horned Khorne,' 'Dung Beetle Nurgle,' and such abominations.
Sanguinius in his peripheral vision also trembled its wings slightly; it seemed to be struggling to maintain its composure.
"The Sanguinius they worship doesn't have pure white wings, but rather two pairs of scythe-like elytra, like a fly or a wasp."
"In their doctrine, Sanguinius did not truly die but fell into a deep slumber within a Tyranid egg after being gravely wounded."
"When the fated moment arrives, the egg encasing the Archangel will descend from the heavens, and Sanguinius will resurrect from within, spreading his scythe wings."
"At that time, all genestealer who believe in him will merge into Sanguinius' egg, to live eternally in bliss with the Archangel."
Dixus paused briefly, then softly said, "They call their faith... Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings."
"Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings," Mephiston murmured the name of that blasphemous faith.
The genestealer, corrupted by the Tyranid, twisted the pure faith in the Archangel, transforming it into a blasphemous heresy to deceive the inhabitants of Baal, luring them into corruption.
Upon learning of the existence of this sacrilegious cult, almost every Blood Angel fell into a rage.
Right on Baal, in the homeland of their Gene-Father, the Blood Angels' homeworld, these twisted xenos had developed such a blasphemous cult.
And the Blood Angels had never noticed.
But Mephiston understood that this was almost an inevitable outcome.
The Tyranid had clearly been quietly targeting Baal for a long time.
Among these genestealer who infiltrated Baal, there must have been powerful psyker, who used their abilities to evade the Librarians' detection.
And Baal itself was covered by desert, with many caves, tunnels, and ancient structures beneath the vast yellow sands.
The genestealer were very careful and slowly expanded their influence, previously completely hidden in the desert.
It was almost impossible for the Blood Angels to imagine that such a group of blasphemous xenos was hidden on Baal.
If not for their recent attempt to corrupt refugees from the Netherworld Star System, the Blood Angels might not have discovered the existence of this genestealer Cult until the Tyranid arrived, let alone found their settlements.
However, Mephiston, through the blasphemous prophecy of the Eight-Face Weirdo, foresaw that a Lictor would soon appear in the Genestealer settlement and found the exact location of this settlement.
It was hidden deep within Baal's desert, amidst endless yellow sand, in a complex tunnel system beneath a dune.
These tunnels might have been part of a sewage system from tens of thousands of years ago, unknown even to the Blood Angels.
Mephiston stood at one of the entrances to the pipeline system.
The Eight-Face Weirdo's prophecy not only indicated the location of the Lictor and the genestealer Cult but also revealed the identity of the so-called "Saint Doraemon," a candidate for multiple positions in the Warp.
Mephiston chose to investigate the genestealer first because he believed Saint Doraemon was clearly more dangerous than the genestealer.
He still remembered the Eight-Face Weirdo's head suddenly exploding in front of him... that xenos sorcerer, whom the Blood Angels had failed to kill in three thousand years, had his head explode simply by mentioning Saint Doraemon's name.
Even Mephiston, with his extraordinary psychic powers, dared not investigate him rashly.
A breeze suddenly picked up, carrying radioactive sand that struck his unique power armor.
His power armor was distinctive, like the exposed muscle tissue of a skinned man, with every muscle fiber sculpted from ceramite.
The color of Mephiston's power armor was also deeper than what the Blood Angels usually wore, like a constantly pulsating dark red, shimmering with a bloody glow under Baal's crimson sun.
But Mephiston was not worried about being exposed.
As an Astartes, his massive size meant that unless he disguised himself as one of those idiotic aberrations, no physical disguise he knew of could conceal his identity.
So Mephiston chose to use the psychic power of the Empyrean; he used his powerful psychic abilities to embed several layers of extremely complex cognitive distortion on himself, ensuring that the genestealer would perceive him as an ally and not draw attention.
Mephiston stepped into the pipeline.
The Red Great Hall was brightly lit, with magnificent carpets woven by the Blood Angels themselves spread before its doors, their golden threads shimmering and displaying ever-changing, intricate patterns.
Blood slaves in long robes stood on either side of the great doors, singing ancient hymns in melodious voices. These songs either praised Sanguinius, extolled the divinity of the Emperor, or lamented the past glory of the Legions.
These were all shared memories belonging to the Sons of Sanguinius.
Astartes from different Battle Groups passed through these doors, all clad in power armor made of ceramite, each appearing as if forged from solid rock, noble and sacred.
The Lamenters, long dwelling on starships and without a homeworld, stepped onto the soil of Baal. Their Chapter Master, Flordak, was conversing in low tones with the Chapter Master of the Glorious Angels Battle Group.
Gorenn, Chapter Master of the Divine Angels, discussed ancient Blood Hawk oaths with the Tomb Guard Battle Group, while the Reclusiarch of the Repentant Angels, clad in black armor, silently observed the scene.
Yor, Chapter Master of the Blood Cavaliers Battle Group, was also alone, holding spiced wine mixed with blood, though Dante noticed he did not remove his helmet to partake.
The Blood Wings and Crimson Blades chatted about Bloodthirst, Black Rage, and the Codex Astartes. The Flesh Tearers nearby seemed displeased by the Crimson Blades' constant mention of Guilliman, and the Carnivores appeared to share his opinion.
The Red Knights, meanwhile, carried a deep melancholy, partaking in spiced wine alongside the white-haired Red Wings.
Dante stood outside, watching these scenes unfold in the Red Great Hall.
So many Blood Angels successor chapters gathered together.
Except for a very few Battle Groups, all the Sons flowing with the Angel's blood had come to Baal.
The Crimson Angels would likely not come to assist; they had formalized their slaughter and completely broken with the parent Chapter.
The Spears of Atlantis acted reclusively and strangely, rarely communicating with other Battle Groups, and evidently ignored the call for aid.
The Cryptek, still unlucky, had repeatedly chosen to directly face the brunt of the Kraken hive Fleet to protect numerous Imperial worlds, and were now nearly annihilated, unable to support Baal. Dante hoped Sanguinius would protect them.
And even among these blood brothers who had arrived, countless differences still existed.
More than once, Dante had seen warriors from different successor chapters exclaim in surprise at their mutual differences. Ten millennia of separation had even created disparities within the same bloodline.
Some of these successor chapters were plunged into the black-red curse, some resisted tenaciously, some were cynical, and some were calm and collected.
These warriors wore different battle armor, interwoven with colors such as red, black, white, and gold, their exteriors as varied as their interiors.
Bang!!!
Suddenly, several intense sparks burst from a brazier beside Dante, its warm light illuminating Dante's golden armor and the power armor of every Sanguinius in the Great Hall.
Gold became soft, red became hazy, black became vibrant, white was tinged with crimson... These colors intertwined, and they seemed less different from each other now.
Yes, we are still connected by blood.
Dante thought and hoped involuntarily.
Time had changed much; temperament, personality, customs, and history were all distinctly different, but none of this could change the blood of Sanguinius.
Beneath different traditions and profound rituals, beneath power armor of varying liveries... we are still brothers and kin, and this planet beneath our feet is still the blood homeland of every Son of Sanguinius.
Now, the Sons of Sanguinius had come home.
They would defend Baal with their blood, even if they had never set foot on this fervent land before.
And Dante would use everything he had to unite them, to ensure that every drop of blood was spilled for Baal.
He stepped into the Red Great Hall, and the blood slaves' voices rose as they began to sing.
"Dante! Lord of Angels! Dante! Lord of Baal! Dante! Lord of the Firstborn!"
"Dante! Dante! Dante!"
Almost all the Sons of Sanguinius turned their gaze to Dante, most with goodwill and reverence. A millennium of service had made Dante a legend.
But Dante's aged face beneath the Sanguinius golden mask twitched slightly. It was this worship that made him feel guilty and embarrassed; he felt he was unworthy of such adoration.
And even if he had no experience dealing with such scenes, facing the worship of so many Astartes, and who wrote the songs the blood slaves were singing? Why hadn't anyone told him?
Lord of Angels? Lord of Baal? Was this trying to equate him with the Archangel?
For a moment, he suddenly felt that Mephiston's decision to go to the desert to find the Genestealer lair before the Red Council began was a wise one.
In the crimson desert of Baal, hot sand swished against Logans' fiber robe. Some grains of sand even burrowed into the robe, getting stuck in the chitinous shell beneath its fibrous fabric.
This made Logans feel very uncomfortable. He lifted his robe and rubbed out the sand.
"By Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings!"
Not far away, Karl. Jane, dragging the corpse of a fire scorpion, turned his head and said impatiently:
"Can't you hurry up? We still need to rush to Sheath Wing Fortress!"
"Lingnao.Mophiston, the High Priest, sent word that Dante is summoning us... summoning every devout Son of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings."
"It is said that the great Living Saint, Sanguilius, is about to descend!"
Logans looked at Karl. Jane's urging and couldn't help but lower his head. He hated his brother.
Although they shared the same parents, Karl. Jane was more excellent. The genetic sequence in his body not only came from their parents but had also been modified by the sacred blood mutation masters within the cult.
"Those who besieged us also had a Dante."
Logans couldn't help but mutter.
He was referring to the heretics who had previously besieged them, but under the leadership of Lingnao.Mophiston, the High Priest, they had easily hidden in the desert, concealed within Sheath Wing Fortress.
"They are genestealer."
Karl. Jane made a gesture of exorcism and said, "They have been corrupted by profaned genes. The Sanguileno they worship doesn't have scythe wings, but a pair of bird wings!"
"Bird wings! A pair of bird wings! How heretical!"
"Their Dante doesn't have four sharp claws, their Mephiston doesn't have the specialized brain tissue of a High Priest, and their Living Saint is Sanguileno with bird wings, not the great Sanguilius!"
Karl. Jane's tone carried deep disgust as he spoke.
"But they won't live long!"
Karl. Jane emphasized, "Dante is holding the Red Council, gathering every Son of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings."
"The Living Saint, Sanguilius, is also about to descend, and soon after, the eggs of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings will fall from the sky, leading the Sons in Sheath Wing Fortress to conquer those imitating blasphemers."
Logans nodded, half-understanding.
He knew that he and Karl. Jane hunting fire scorpions was to prepare for the Red Council.
Every Son flowing with the purple blood of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings would gather in Sheath Wing Fortress, and at that time, everyone would need a great deal of food.
So Lingnao.Mophiston, the High Priest, had issued a command through a vast psychic link to every Son: collect enough food on the way.
"It's your turn to drag it now."
Karl. Jane put down the rope tied to the fire scorpion and was about to hand it to Logans.
"Hurry up and move. It is said that this time, Dante will personally select a group of excellent warriors and bestow upon them his own gene-seed."
"I don't want to fall behind others. You also try hard; maybe you can get a gene-seed bestowed by the sacred blood mutation masters."
Logans, with a displeased look, took the rope from Karl. Jane's hand and hoisted it onto his shoulder.
"By Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings, maybe we are the genestealer, not them."
Logans couldn't help but complain as he took the rope.
"Bastard!"
Karl. Jane kicked Logans, enraged by his blasphemous words, "What a bastard thing to say! With such blasphemy, perhaps I should kill you here!"
"Remember, we are descendants of the sacred bloodline of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings. The blood of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings flows in our veins. Besides us... everyone on this planet is a blasphemous heretic! All are shameless genestealer!"
"The blood flowing in those bastards is not the revered scythe-wing blood, but the blasphemous bird-wing blood."
Logans lowered his head and stopped speaking, just pulling the blood scorpion forward in silence. Suddenly, Logans saw what appeared to be a faint figure standing in the desert ahead.
That figure was also clad in a linen fiber robe, resisting the wind and sand, walking step by step towards Logans and Karl. Jane.
Karl. Jane let out a low Damn, and chitin-wrapped claws emerged from his robe.
"Four-Clawed Dante, Lingnao.Mophiston, Sanguilius, Sacred Blood Mutation Masters, Sheath Wing Fortress—you're quite a complete set."
A mocking voice came from the other side of the wind and sand. The figure held a staff in one hand and seemed to be clutching something small in his left hand as he walked towards the two.
"Who are you?"
Karl. Jane asked in a deep voice.
"Me?"
The figure in the wind and sand became visible.
It was a man wearing a cowboy hat, with short hair, a linen robe, and glasses.
The man held a staff in one hand, and in the other, a small figure sitting on a chair, wearing a hat, and holding a megaphone.
He smiled slightly, tapping his finger gently on the hat of the small figure in his hand.
Ding----
A clinking sound came from the small figure, and it slowly raised its megaphone and shouted, "Ready... action!!"
The man's body trembled slightly, and a sincere and kind smile suddenly appeared on his face.
"Actually, I am the chosen of Doraemon of the Shell, a friend of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings, named Big G."
"Guided by Doraemon of the Shell, I have come to help the Sons of Sanguinius of the Scythe Wings overcome their difficulties."