"Gah, so this is what it feels like to have your soul ripped apart?"
Rases rubbed his head.
Although his physical body did not bear any wounds matching the agonizing pain of a death by a thousand cuts, he still felt an unimaginable, searing heat whenever his fingers brushed against his flesh.
"If they ever actually develop a VR control system in the future, I am definitely making Romulus add a pain editor," he muttered.
Waiting for the physical discomfort to fade, Rases did not forget to observe the outside world.
'Tzeentch must be absolutely thrilled right about now.'
Watching the utter chaos unfolding in the Warp, along with the Bloodthirster and the Lord of Change brawling above Pierre, Rases breathed a sigh of relief.
Logically speaking, deploying a Greater Daemon of Carlos's caliber should have been incredibly difficult.
With the ritual's progress stalled, and Khorne having already extracted souls to forcefully deploy Ka'Bandha, any subsequent attempts by the other Evil Gods to project their power should have been limited to rely opening demonic portals.
But that ant nothing when Transmigrators could essentially cheat.
Arthur had deliberately stalled a ready-made ritual on his end. Slipping a lesser daemon or sothing similar through was no problem. As for the remaining souls required, the Transmigrators could easily provide them to fuel these Greater Daemons.
Then, by leveraging the connection forged with the Lords of Change during that recent flurry of activity, they could use the ritual to forcefully yank them out.
As for refusing?
That was impossible.
Because, fundantally, the ritual only required Rases's own consent.
'Who asked you to secretly siphon my soul? If you weren't so greedy, would things have turned out this way?'
'Now the losers have no choice but to sell themselves and work for , right?'
As for the cost...
The cost was naturally exorbitant. The souls Rases applied to himself alone expended a significant amount, but they had to be used. After all, the Transmigrators rarely had the chance to save this spiritual energy for the next run.
Under normal circumstances, Ka'Bandha was unstoppable; the individual combat prowess of the Transmigrators simply wasn't at that level.
'Co to think of it, it's pretty funny that we don't actually have souls. Or rather, do we simply lack souls that fit this universe's conceptual definition?'
Rases stared intently at the cloaked Greater Daemon of Tzeentch. He wasn't reckless enough to place it in the safe house; instead, he confined it within the Enclave, surrounded by four layers of shadows.
A faint glimr appeared in his eyes. He gripped the souls he had previously secured under Divine Protection, ready to contact the Emperor the mont things went south.
Having called upon Him frequently as of late, he realized that the Emperor's state in the Warp was truly deteriorating. His thoughts were incredibly chaotic, seemingly driven forward only by the abstract concept of humanity.
As long as there were enough uncorrupted souls to ensure the Emperor's gains outweighed His sacrifices, He could be spurred into action.
Of course, the most crucial factor was the Transmigrators themselves.
Having reaped the conveniences brought by the Transmigrators, the Emperor naturally had to compromise to keep them coming. If He pushed them too far and they simply abandoned the whole ss, He would be the one suffering the consequences.
Rases had more or less figured out the communication commands for the Emperor as if He were an NPC.
Input the correct command, and He would return the correct response. Appealing to His emotions or reason was useless; one had to keep their finger hovering over the uninstall button of the Transmigrator experience card at all tis.
While entities asured solely by their utility were inherently tools, since the Emperor treated no one as human, it was only fair not to treat Him as human either.
Gazing at the Enclave, he observed the daemons who, despite showing visible surprise at the sudden appearance of a Lord of Change, did not cease their work transcribing Warp knowledge. Rases nodded in satisfaction.
'Well, this proves that daemons can endure the grind. I'll add two more rounds of tasks later. If they haven't died from working this hard yet, they can definitely take more.'
'These daemons are the ultimate beasts of burden. Plus, using them doesn't co with an ounce of moral guilt. Absolutely perfect.'
Rases looked at the Tzeentch daemon, who had already received its task and was still standing there bewildered, feeling a sense of anticipation.
If he could manage to imprison a Greater Daemon, the update speed of his library's knowledge would reach an entirely new level.
"Where is this?"
The Lord of Change stared at the scene before it in bewildernt.
It was the first ti it had ever witnessed such a bizarre spectacle.
Khorne daemons acting as overseers; Tzeentch daemons confined to a specific area, ceaselessly transcribing various types of Warp knowledge; Nurgle and Slaanesh daemons serving as test subjects; and an assortnt of Chaos Undivided daemons milling about.
Naturally, across the different sectors, these daemons from all corners of the immaterium assud various other roles as well.
But all of these daemons shared one thing in common.
They were visibly withered and drained.
"Hsss..."
The Lord of Change's gaze fell upon a Slaanesh daemon that had completely sunken into a stupor. No amount of provocation from the other daemons could elicit the slightest emotional response from it. Seeing this, the Greater Daemon couldn't help but gasp.
It had never seen anyone capable of tornting so many daemons into such a pathetic state.
It looked up, curiously surveying its surroundings.
Unlike these weak daemons who had practically never experienced the gaze of their dark patrons, it could clearly sense that the gaze of the Changer of Ways upon it had been severed.
"Interesting."
Looking at the task workflow chart that popped up in front of it, which lacked any cruel punishnt chanisms, the Lord of Change grew even more curious.
'How exactly does this place make these daemons so obedient?' it wondered.
It simply sat cross-legged on the spot, wanting to experience the wonders of this strange dinsion for itself.
The surrounding daemons cast a fleeting glance at the ditating Lord of Change. Their eyes looked as if they were staring at past versions of themselves.
They knew that once it realized that even true death was an unattainable luxury here, it would fall in line.
Just as the horde of daemons was busy imagining what the Lord of Change would eventually be reduced to—hoping to witness it and glean so petty joy before their own inevitable demise—the Greater Daemon's body suddenly froze.
In the blink of an eye, the Greater Daemon of Tzeentch exploded, collapsing into a hollow void.
The daemons imdiately fell into a panic, but they still didn't dare drop the tasks at hand. They could only stare nervously at the empty hole.
Then, the void seed to peer back at them, as if a formless entity were using the rupture to look into this world.
An endless stream of azure energy seeped out from within, accompanied by scattered fragnts of crystalline dust.
The flow of ti in this sector visibly slowed down, as though the observer intended to scrutinize the area in excruciating detail.
Rases noticed the pupil peeking out from the swirling, jagged maw. Through a brief misalignnt in space, he sensed the emotions brimming within.
Confusion, curiosity, and boundless desire.
"I knew it."
Rases murmured softly.
It was a good thing he knew exactly where the Transmigrators' bottom lines were.
"Changer of Ways!"
A Tzeentch Pink Horror cried out in shock, rushing excitedly toward the portal, only to be shredded into pieces by the scattering crystal fragnts.
The god did not care for His own creations; He only cared about the entities that did not yet belong to Him.
But the god was destined to be disappointed.
This space was not located within the unseen shadows; rather, it was a pocket of the Warp veiled and secluded from the gods by those very shadows.
The swirling fangs gradually turned ethereal.
The Changer of Ways withdrew His gaze in mild disappointnt. Sparing one last glance at the bizarre spectacle composed of these laboring daemons, He let out a mocking laugh and then departed.
Rases was in no rush to move.
Not long after, another Rift brimming with fangs tore open.
This ti, the Sacrifices were the remaining Tzeentch daemons.
'I knew it.'
"Good thing I'm not Magnus."
Rases shook his head, deciding to abandon this section of the Enclave.
This probing was over, and the outco was neither good nor bad.
He then shifted his gaze toward his comrade.
Rases could not afford to show his face right now. Otherwise, Tzeentch and Khorne might reach a consensus. The conflict between the two gods had to be maintained until the very end.
"My mission is complete. The rest is up to you guys."
The sorcerer's gaze projected downward.
There, a knight was fighting against two adversaries.
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