"What my eyes see is not what I see."
The knight murmured softly, as if hypnotizing himself.
Why would you compete in skill with prey weaker than yourself?
That voice echoed across the battlefield, transmitting into the minds of every warrior, as if instructing those affected by Chaos.
Why would you admit that sothing weaker than you could affect you?
Yes, the Warp was a festering sore clinging to every life in this world. This was their tragedy. They could not cast aside these influences; they could only stand at the bottom of the abyss, facing an insurmountable gap that hid the sky as they fought against monsters and demons.
This was the most disgusting trait of Daemons.
But Transmigrators could.
And the warriors behind the Transmigrator could!
Clang!
The knight swung his blade at a speed untrackable by the naked eye. It was a slash guided purely by instinct.
A new wound appeared on the Keeper of Secrets. Its perfect defense was shattered, and its proud skills were pierced through.
"What my body blocks is not what I block."
Crunch!
A pair of bloody hands reached out from the tide of Daemons.
A warrior who had been pinned down simply climbed back to his feet. He tore away the fungus licking at his wounds and crushed a leaping Nurgling beneath his boot.
"Shut up!"
Visibly, the Greater Daemon of Slaanesh panicked. For the first ti, an expression of sheer horror appeared on its face.
It could no longer see the knight's movents.
Seeing through techniques was supposed to be its divine right, an authority it exercised over this world.
Yes, this was a real, existing world, and they were real, existing entities.
A nauseating stench of blood sharply assaulted the nose. The winds of the Warp swept past, carrying a malicious intent that sought to poison everything in its path.
A suffocating atmosphere brewed within, as if this world were eternally shrouded in the shadows of despair, agony, and terror.
This world was never ant to be peaceful.
However—
Thud!
This was the sound of a body lunging forward with a shield, hamring into a hard carapace.
Swish!
This was the sound of boots planting firmly into the earth, driving a blade to tear through flesh.
A pool of blood gathered beneath the knight's feet. He raised his head, his erald eyes coldly detached.
This is my world.
Why should I follow the rules of your world? Why should I bother matching my skills against yours?
Halt. Accelerate. Slash. Defend.
Surrendered to pure instinct, his sword-wielding body had long since etched every art of slaughter into its muscle mory. All that remained was to cut them down.
If you were a dragon, why would you abandon your mighty physique to compete in skill against a dwarf using only your claws?
Technique is a tool for the weak to defeat the strong.
And you—
You venomous insects.
The two intersecting figures separated in a flash. The Keeper of Secrets staggered back dozens of steps, its body covered in a crisscross of blade scars.
Blood dripped down, dampening its velvet-like silks. The form of Slaanesh constantly tempted its opponent to lay down arms and embrace pleasure.
Arthur remained completely unmoved and raised his sword once more.
It shouldn't exist.
"If my will does not exist, then nothing exists."
The blade ignited with radiant light, silently echoing the knight's holy words.
"I told you to shut up!"
The Keeper of Secrets shrieked, swinging its elven longsword to batter against the black blade in a desperate bid to shatter it.
It couldn't see them.
It thought in panic.
It had completely lost sight of them.
"You will die! Everything you cherish will die—no, their souls will fall into the Six Circles of the divine realm, never to fade away."
It roared frantically, issuing threats in the most cruel manner it knew.
It released a dense, intoxicating mist, attempting to corrupt those brave warriors once again and force the knight to hold back out of fear of harming his own.
This was the true nature of Chaos.
Twisting minds with absolutely no bottom line.
However—
There was no daze?
The chainswords of the Battle Sisters swung down, still cleaving through the skulls of the enemies of humanity.
There was no blasphemy of flesh being forcibly manipulated?
The plasma flas firing from the weapons of the Adeptus Astartes still blood with destructive power.
When sounds of "depravity" lingered in their ears, when toxic sores of "plague" attempted to spread across their flesh, these resolute warriors did not show even a sliver of hesitation.
Yes, they were never going to waver to begin with.
When the terrain was shifted to the sa elevation, how could rolling stones shake a giant tree?
'What the fuck is this?!'
The Keeper of Secrets descended into utter confusion.
It was never supposed to be like this. Even a being as mighty as a Primarch could only maintain their own purity, unable to save their progeny from falling.
This world had always been like this!
The knight's blade swung forward, eting the wanton roar of the gale, but the Greater Daemon could no longer trace its trajectory.
"When the shadows no longer rise, when the light is no longer silent."
He chanted in a low voice. The tone was clear and cold, yet carried a subtle, piercing brilliance, like the first ray of dawn spilling over a mountain peak wrapped in frost and howling winds.
"When we stand on the sa horizon, we are far taller than you."
A Daemonette of Slaanesh struck the armor of the Adeptus Astartes with a deft, glancing blow. Billowing, srizing smoke sprayed out recklessly—a technique ant to drag countless souls into depravity.
The pitch-black iron armor moved, its hydraulic systems letting out a roar that sounded like a mocking sneer. He swung down the barrel of a plasma gun hot enough to ignite the atmosphere, smashing it like a colossus trampling at will.
Dropping to one knee, he shattered the bodies of three Daemonettes. The plasma barrel scorched the sickeningly sweet toxic mist in the air, while the spiked bayonet at the base of the gun drove deeply into a daemon's flesh.
"We endure the trials, and we will not break."
A Daemon of Nurgle was forced back. To its no-longer-sluggish opponents, its bloated mass was nothing more than a fleshy target to be ravaged at will. The bursting pustules it sprayed were supposed to be lethal weapons capable of torturing the flesh.
That crimson-armored figure lunged forward, her roaring chainsword singing a song of pure exhilaration. She swung the blade in a vicious upward slash, tearing through the plague clouds. The holy fire erupting from the revving teeth dyed her like a burning cot, as unbridled and brutal as a butcher.
On that no longer pristine face, lips splattered with rotting flesh pulled into a fierce, violent grin. The Sister of Battle twisted her waist in mid-air, bringing the chainsword crashing down right onto the Daemon's neck.
What sprayed from that tumorous neck was not toxic pus, but dazzling sparks of holy fire as the flesh ignited under the extre heat of the ripping blade.
"Our noble character will shine brightly before the dawn."
Gurgle. Urgh.
The Keeper of Secrets was forced back once again. It was an assault completely beyond its comprehension, like the roaring of a mythical dragon.
Only then did the Keeper of Secrets realize what was truly different about its enemy.
This was an entity that fundantally shouldn't exist in their world. The knight strode forward, letting his own cognition cleanse this filthy, corrupted realm. He was going to overwrite this place with his own world.
But there was no longer any ti left for it to think.
"We—"
The expanding air pressure blasted outward, sending chunks of corpses mixed with imnse filth flying away from the epicenter.
And from within that blast, the knight charged once more, leading the warriors behind him who were gradually beginning to ignite with holy fire.
"Will never fall!"
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