"I am!!! I am the King of Kids!!!"
"Fat and strong!!! No one is better than me!!!"
The deafening song surged directly towards Erebus' face, and in an instant, every part of the surroundings, from the Warp to reality, was wailing, roaring, and sounding.
Erebus' head felt dull, and blood immediately gushed from his ears; he felt as if his brain was about to spray out, and his entire body stiffened in place, almost unable to move.
The Greater Daemon, controlled by Alexander, flew forward, a raging Emperor's Fire burning on the baseball bat in his hand, its golden, scorching flames aimed directly at Erebus' head.
Just then, the cold shadow coiling around Erebus wriggled slightly, and a Shadow Blade extended from the darkness, colliding with the Greater Daemon's baseball bat. In an instant, golden and shadowy flames intertwined, neither gaining the upper hand.
The Shadow Master, the first daemon Prince Be'lakor, ferociously revealed his body in reality. His black, gray, and blue intertwined, grotesque muscles rippled, and his night-like wings suddenly spread, unleashing a tragic hurricane that rushed towards the Greater Daemon's face, but before it could even touch, it was shattered by the barbaric singing.
"What the hell is this thing?!" Be'lakor roared, his Shadow Blade instantly clashing with the Greater Daemon's baseball bat several times.
As a daemon Prince blessed by the Four Gods, Be'lakor immediately recognized that the powers of Khorne, Slaanesh, the Emperor, and Saint Doraemon were simultaneously coiling around this Greater Daemon, making its composition extremely abstract and chaotic.
Blessed by Tzeentch and Khorne, Be'lakor had now recovered most of his peak power, capable of exchanging a few blows even with a daemon Primarch, but for a moment, he couldn't deal with this inexplicable Greater Daemon.
He immediately cursed his bad luck in his heart.
Be'lakor wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but he vaguely felt that Erebus' luck today seemed poor, as if he was very unlucky, as if he had been abandoned by fate.
First, there were those dozen extremely difficult abstract questions, which caused Be'lakor to suffer several punishments as well. Then, as soon as they went out, they encountered an intractable enemy.
It should be known that the strange box that turned the entire ship into an escape room explicitly stated that all doors led to random destinations.
With a dozen doors, encountering an enemy as soon as they went out was itself a low-probability event.
Even lower probability was that when they went out, this peculiar Greater Daemon had just finished off the Word Bearers who could have provided assistance.
Be'lakor immediately became vigilant, vaguely sensing that the flow of fate was somewhat strange, and felt that continuing to stay with Erebus might lead to bad luck.
He quickly swung the Shadow Blade in his hand, instantly forcing the Greater Daemon back a few steps, and then—
"I'll leave this to you for now, I'm going to open the next door." Be'lakor shouted without hesitation to Erebus, who was still in a daze behind him.
Erebus immediately showed a look of horror, but before he could stop Be'lakor, Be'lakor transformed into a shadow, rushing without hesitation towards the farthest door, putting distance between himself and Erebus.
Alexander, controlling the Greater Daemon, tilted his body very smoothly and nodded towards Be'lakor. Be'lakor also nodded towards the Greater Daemon.
The two instantly reached an understanding. The Greater Daemon allowed Be'lakor to pass him by, then raised the baseball bat in his hand and directly swung it towards Erebus' head.
Erebus was hard-controlled in place by the sharp singing, almost unable to move. The baseball bat in's hand smashed directly towards Erebus' head.
But there was no sound of blood splattering.
Nine blue, rune-composed bird-shaped tattoos on Erebus' body wriggled, and one of them detached directly from Erebus and flew between the Greater Daemon and Erebus.
"Wrestling!!!"
A strong, muscular bird claw directly extended, gripping the baseball bat in the Greater Daemon's hand, which was burning with the Emperor's Psyker flame.
The flames scorched the bird claw, but the Greater Daemon that emerged from Erebus' body seemed to feel no pain.
It was a Greater Daemon wearing an Ancient Terra samba costume, a strange mask covering its face, and strong muscles all over its body.
Judging by the aura on this Greater Daemon, it was clearly a Tzeentch Great Unclean One, but its eyes lacked any of the cunning and wisdom a Tzeentch Great Unclean One should possess; instead, they were full of dullness.
This dullness was not the dullness of a puppet; it was pure emptiness of mind, a dullness devoid of any knowledge.
"Wrestling! Wrestling!!" the Greater Daemon shrieked, engaging in a struggle with the Greater Daemon.
Erebus quickly clutched the ritual dagger around his neck.
The power of the ritual dagger was so strong that it could help the user resist fatal attacks.
An evil gleam flashed on the dagger, which had committed countless murders, briefly bringing Erebus back to his senses.
Looking at the Tzeentch Great Unclean One entangled with the Greater Daemon, Erebus knew it wouldn't last long.
Tzeentch claimed it was a new species of Greater Daemon he had created, named Wrestling Eagle Person.
But Erebus knew the truth.
Recently, a strange pathogen had been circulating in Tzeentch's domain. Tzeentch Great Unclean Ones infected with this pathogen would suffer unbearable abdominal pain and incessant diarrhea until all the knowledge in their brains was expelled.
Even Tzeentch had no way to cure this pathogen, only to isolate and suppress it.
And those Lords of Change whose brains had been emptied were recycled by Tzeentch, infused with concepts related to muscles and fitness, forcibly twisted into this type of Greater Daemon with only strength and no wisdom.
Tzeentch had given Erebus a total of nine such useless things in one go, claiming it was a blessing of the Nine Bird Needle Technique.
Erebus knew that the Wrestling Eagle Person wouldn't last long, so he quickly rushed in Be'lakor's direction.
Be'lakor was trying to answer the question on the door.
"Please answer: Who was the Emperor's first Warmaster?"
Looking at this question, Be'lakor immediately breathed a sigh of relief.
This question was much simpler than the previous dozen.
Indeed, all the problems just now were Erebus'. Erebus' luck today was clearly strangely bad, as if he had been cursed by something.
"Ollanius Persson."
The door lock clicked open with a bang, and a light-door appeared before Be'lakor's eyes.
Be'lakor did not hesitate and was about to step through the door.
As for Erebus?
Be'lakor could only wish him good luck.
Just then, a blasphemous incantation suddenly sounded, uttered from Erebus' mouth, turning into shackles that slowed Be'lakor's movements for a split second.
"You son of a bitch, Erebus!" Be'lakor cursed, but before he could stop Erebus—
Erebus grinned and slipped into the light-door in a flash.
He wouldn't trust Be'lakor to go first—
The sound of a chain axe rang out, and a bloodson cleaved vertically across Erebus' face.