Chapter 268 – Eden: “Ah, why are you beating up Little Ma?”
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Hi everyone, it's Zaelum, the event will start tomorrow! Now I will tell you how to participate on it so you can choose which fanfic you want to be translated!
This time there will be 2 challengers! A Naruto and a Bleach fanfic, both I check them and they both looks promising.
The event consist on 3 rounds of challenges:
1: The Likes Round: If the post gets 100 likes it will earn a point (Both can win that point) (Will start Saturday) (This is in Patreon)
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3: The Reviews Round: If the fanfic gets 50 reviews on Webnovel it will get a point! (Both can win that point) (Will start Sunday)
Now what would happen if both reach the 3 points? I will pick both!
The true both are fun so I kinda don't care if both win, hahaha. So if you want, try to make me pick both by doing the event.
Also as bonus... if any of the fics get into the top 10 in Webnovel I will make it a double chapter schedule for that fic!
Anyway, I thought it was going to be fun to do an event where you all get to participate, and if the events its succesful I may do more of them, for more new fics or for currents ones.
Thanks you all for reading this, and I will see you later!
Ciao!
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A phantom plaza.
A brilliant, sacred light fully suppressed the raging corruption of Chaos. The golden, towering figure radiated an aura as imposing as a mountain, its mere presence an intangible weight, brimming with ultimate majesty and power.
After all, He was… the Emperor!
When Eden saw that His Majesty the Emperor had arrived, he immediately darted behind Him, giving up his spot.
He didn't need to do anything—just stand by and watch the show. Truth be told, Eden kind of wished he had some sunflower seeds on hand…
A father-son showdown, and poor Little Ma… is in big trouble!
The Emperor looked at Magnus in silence.
He was like a volcano about to erupt—filled with rage!
Eden could somewhat understand His emotions.
After all, the Emperor had been stewing over his anger toward Magnus for ten thousand years, with no outlet.
Imagine it:
Your brat of a kid wrecks every collectible you've saved for a lifetime, then calls you "Old Man" and keeps hopping around in front of you.
And you can't lay a hand on him. The humiliation of it all!
It's beyond imagining. Some parents in a certain place face a similar predicament, where the law forbids them from hitting their children. They have to grit their teeth, sometimes even sneak the kid away to another district over the weekend, and only then can they, well… educate them thoroughly.
The Emperor's situation is more tragic still.
Magnus's stupidity destroyed the Emperor's life's work and left Him trapped upon the Golden Throne and confined to the Warp. No matter how great His power, He couldn't move an inch.
For ten thousand years, He watched that foolish son continue harming the Imperium—and could do nothing.
It's impossible to fathom just how stifling that must have been.
So when Eden, via the "little sun" in his spirit, asked the Emperor, "Please come lock the doors and give Little Ma a lesson," that golden sun trembled wildly, reeling with intense emotion.
Then He rushed over to this place of embodied faith and soul.
The Emperor strode forward, moving toward Magnus, the taut muscles beneath His armor trembling slightly—His aura climbing with each step.
Seeing this, Magnus… panicked.
The Crimson King desperately pushed at his Warp energy, trying to escape this soul-manifested space.
But he quickly discovered that, with the Emperor's arrival, the entire area was sealed tight.
He was trapped.
Watching that towering figure draw closer, Magnus forced himself to hold firm, though his roar quivered:
"False Emperor! What… what do You want?!"
"False Emperor?"
Hearing his fallen son call Him that, the Emperor halted.
He gazed upon Magnus's twisted, hideous form, and a deep sadness crossed His features.
In that moment, He recalled the scenes of father and sons turning on each other ten thousand years ago—so many Primarchs lost to Chaos, betraying Him and plunging the Imperium into darkness.
Horus, Fulgrim, Mortarion, Angron…
But none pained or angered Him more than Magnus, the child He had cared for the most.
How had it all come to this?
Eden, seeing the Emperor in His sorrow and gathering power, sighed inwardly.
His Majesty was brilliant in every respect—except at being a father.
Back in ancient Terra's Rome, He'd led a wild life: a saint, a painter, a knight… rumor even said He'd once stood on a street corner, though that was just some cryptic recollection from a mysterious source. Possibly nonsense.
But in any case, for all those colorful experiences, He was, at heart, a socially awkward introvert.
A look into His early life helps explain: as a child, He had witnessed horrendous familial tragedy—His uncle murdered His father, and He, in turn, killed His uncle.
Such a childhood shadow would linger for a lifetime.
Possessing an intensely rational mind and poor skill at emotional expression, the Emperor tended to impose rigid expectations on those children He most cared for.
Logic and emotion coexisted in Him.
But the result was often disastrous, as the Primarchs typically never felt that paternal affection. Some even believed He didn't care about them at all.
That was the Emperor of the past, of course.
Now, who knows how many personalities He's split into? There might even be a chatty, talkative side hidden away somewhere.
"F-Father…?"
Magnus sensed the profound grief emanating from that imposing figure; he couldn't help but echo it.
He had once been the Emperor's most cherished child.
He'd even received warm embraces and direct psychic teachings from his Father that none of the other Primarchs ever got.
"Father, I did nothing wrong! Fate forced me down the path of Chaos!"
Magnus roared, struggling to explain.
Even now, he felt no remorse nor second thoughts.
In his eyes, he had never been at fault.
Hearing that, Eden nearly burst out laughing. The nerve of him at a time like this. Was he trying to hand the Emperor a buff?
Double the father's fury!
Sure enough, the moment Magnus finished speaking—
Boom—
The anger the Emperor had bottled for ten thousand years finally ignited, a searing flame spreading out and shaking the entire space.
"Here it comes!"
Eden watched eagerly, eyes locked onto the scene.
The Emperor's fatherly wrath and terrifying might filled Magnus with dread.
He tried to backpedal, flapping his wings furiously to flee.
But in the next instant, a massive hand clamped onto Magnus's neck, stopping him cold!
He struggled, daemonic wings flailing, but to no avail.
Right now, the Emperor—bolstered by billions of believers across the galaxy—was even more terrifying than He had been ten thousand years ago, especially in terms of raw psychic strength.
Here in the soul-realm, even Tzeentch would likely receive a colossal pounding.
"Father, You've no right to treat me like this! I gave everything for You, for the Imperium, and never got what I deserved!"
Magnus sounded part-pleading, though still haughty.
"Ah, Your Majesty, why so angry?" Eden piped up in a well-meaning voice. "Little Ma isn't wrong—he only broke the Webway and left You stuck on the Golden Throne, costing the Imperium its Webway network. Surely it's not that big a deal…"
Magnus howled, "Daemon-Eater!!!"
But before he could say more, fatherly fury erupted like a volcano. One psychic blow landed with a resounding crash.
"Aaaargh—!"
Magnus's features contorted, unleashing a guttural scream. That scorching, destructive force seared him to his very core.
This was power so dreadful that even the Ruinous Powers themselves feared it!
Listening to his cries, Eden went on coaxing, "And this time, didn't Little Ma just want to rip open another Webway portal? Not like he succeeded. No need to get so worked up, right?"
No sooner had he said so than Magnus's face got hammered by an even more explosive psychic backhand.
Fangs flew, feet left the ground, and the Crimson King spun two and a half times in midair before thudding back down.
"You… you just wait! I'll make you taste unimaginable torment!!!" The Crimson King pinned Eden with blazing hatred in his single eye.
All of this was that Daemon-Eater's fault!!!
Eden merely made a helpless face, "Hey now, that's gratitude for you. I'm just doing what's best for you…"
He scooted back a bit, wary of the splatter of daemon blood.
Roar!!!
Magnus tried lunging at Eden, only to be yanked back by the Emperor.
With every "well-meaning" word Eden uttered, the Crimson King got treated to still more fatherly fists of fury.
His wings tore; his chaos-warped body was covered in wounds.
"Daemon-Eater, please—enough with the advice…"
Magnus moaned in pain, battered black and blue, his mind teetering on collapse.
His arrogance had evaporated.
"Yeah, maybe best if You stop, Your Majesty. If Little Ma ends up traumatized, he won't be able to go on troubling the Imperium in the future, right?"
Rumble—
The Emperor's rage intensified further. Fatherly fists lashed out again and again, flooding the space with psychic brilliance.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
One devastating strike after another pounded Magnus's body.
For a fallen Primarch, it was pain to both flesh and soul.
His chaotic might began unraveling.
"No!!! Father, spare me! I admit I was wrong—please, stop!"
At last, the Crimson King's defenses collapsed entirely. He lay on the ground, sobbing and begging for mercy from his father.
Yet the Emperor did not relent.
He punished this son who cost Him everything—His life's work, His ten thousand years locked in the Golden Throne, and who continued to ravage the Imperium.
It was the fury He had suppressed for a millennium.
Each blow carried His wrath and disappointment—His heartbreak and helplessness.
This child, once so full of promise, had become the Emperor's deepest wound.
This fallen son, obstinate and arrogant to the end… deserved no mercy.
"Fatheeeer!!!"
Magnus's shrieks of pain, his sobs, and pleas echoed endlessly.
"Whoa," Eden muttered, "the Emperor must've been holding in quite a rage—this is even fiercer than when He clobbered Tzeentch that one time!"
Witnessing this paternal drama, Eden shuddered. His own guts clenched just imagining being on the receiving end of those fists.
Thank goodness it wasn't him.
He watched Magnus "enjoy" the fatherly beating, swiftly slipping into near-catatonia.
Eden let out a long breath of relief, feeling refreshed.
This was… satisfying.
Boom—
At another psychic blow, Magnus let out a final scream. The body he'd formed from soul-energy shattered, unable to endure further.
"It's just part of Magnus's soul that got destroyed," Eden noted regretfully. "He's taken a bad blow, but he's not completely annihilated…"
Still, with that severe injury, the Crimson King shouldn't be pestering him again anytime soon.
This thorough thrashing from the Emperor not only inflicted agonizing pain on Magnus but also drained a portion of his Chaos-infused power.
When his soul returned to realspace, even if he survived, his strength would be drastically diminished—and he might even be traumatized.
Eden turned to the Emperor.
That golden, majestic figure stood silently for a moment, then turned to leave.
Now was not the time to disturb Him.
Eden could sense that the dark, grim aura surrounding the Emperor had lessened noticeably—He'd unleashed a good deal of His pent-up anger.
Once the Emperor was gone, Eden quickly surveyed the soul-manifested space, making sure nothing dangerous remained.
He was worried some secret might've slipped out.
Fortunately, everything was intact.
There was only that partial footage of Magnus getting hammered, captured by the Primarch's own sorcery.
Not a huge problem.
Even better, Eden found that he himself had gained a new benefit from the show!
Because Magnus had failed in his attempt to corrupt Eden's soul, the fallen Primarch's energies had splintered.
A portion of Magnus's powerful, high-quality soul force dissipated into this realm, which the "little sun" absorbed. Eden's soul was strengthened considerably.
He could clearly feel his power inch closer to that of a Primarch!
Magnus really was such a generous soul—Eden would have to remember to "thank" him if the chance arose.
Eden mused. If only he could drag all the fallen Primarchs in here to be smacked around by the Emperor, then rinse and repeat…
After double-checking, he withdrew from the soul-space.
...
Aboard the Dreamweaver.
Within the Savior's Sanctum:
Eden stretched, cracked open another ice-cold soda, and drank comfortably.
The crisis had been averted.
Battles in the soulscape truly ended fast.
From the moment his soul was invaded to the moment he took care of Little Ma, only a few seconds had passed in real time.
He wondered how things were going on the Moon.
With Magnus's attack failing and the Primarch wounded, perhaps Guilliman would seize the chance to capture him.
That would make Eden totally safe.
He and Magnus were mortal enemies now. Even if Magnus couldn't seek revenge immediately, it was hardly pleasant being on the radar of the Sorcerer-King, a master of bizarre tactics.
If Magnus recovered someday and ran off to meddle at the Blackstone Webway… that would be a massive headache.
Eden sighed. "Ugh, the list of people who hate me just keeps growing."
As his domain expanded and his "Savior" activities grew more frequent, a collision with the forces of Chaos was inevitable.
But it was just a momentary worry.
Even in realspace, Magnus barely cracked Eden's top three biggest threats.
He was second at best, overshadowed by that Warmaster, Abaddon the Despoiler.
Since showing himself in the Imperium's territory, Eden had noticed that Abaddon had sent out plenty of agents looking for him.
In any case, at least his cover hadn't been blown this time. All in all, not too bad.
He'd deal with the future in the future. Hopefully, Guilliman could finish Magnus off, removing that future nuisance altogether.
...
On the Moon.
Amidst the Tizca Pyramid's wreckage:
Boom—
The colossal ritual circle collapsed. The Crimson King's daemonic form crashed down, grievously wounded.
"Father, spare me… I… I won't dare again! Nooo—!!!"
The fallen Primarch's weeping cries rang out like those of a child being strung up and pummeled.
"Fa—"
…Wait, what?
Magnus abruptly stopped mid-wail.
He realized something was off. This was no longer that soul-space.
That realization sank in, and dread surged in his heart.
"Please, not what I'm thinking… O Fate, I beg you—no!"
The Crimson King prayed desperately in his mind.
He tried to summon his old arrogant composure, lifting his head slowly.
There, he saw… everyone staring right at him.
Silence.
No!!!
At that instant, Magnus's heart… died.
Guilliman, the Imperial warriors, even what remained of the Thousand Sons—they were all gaping at this fallen Primarch in disbelief.
Moments before, they'd seen the Crimson King cackle as he activated a grand sorcerous ritual, boasting that he would make the Daemon-Eater kneel like a lowly slave.
A few seconds later, the ritual had imploded, and the Crimson King was on all fours, wailing like some imp squashed underfoot, crying about "Father, don't do it!" and so on.
Meanwhile, the more powerful individuals—Guilliman and others—had glimpsed more through that sorcerous channel.
They'd caught fragments:
The Daemon-Eater, a blurry-faced young figure in golden armor, and the horrific scene of the Crimson King being beaten mercilessly by that majestic golden presence.
Hoo—
Magnus took a ragged breath, shrinking away from Guilliman's gaze.
He couldn't face his brother's eyes now.
He thought back to the way he'd mocked Guilliman earlier, only for those words to come spinning back like a boomerang, cutting him deep.
He'd bragged about the daemons crowning him king, about going to confront the "False Emperor."
But he had lost. Utterly. He'd lost a large part of his soul-force and was severely weakened.
He'd crawled like a weeping child before Guilliman, no less.
How laughable!
It wasn't just Guilliman—every Imperial warrior, every Thousand Son, and a great many of those across the galaxy who were monitoring this war…
Feeling all those stares drilling into him, the Crimson King felt like a pitiful clown.
He could practically hear the scorn and ridicule buried in countless hearts.
An overwhelming sense of shame, immeasurable in scale, coursed through him.
For a vain and arrogant being like Magnus, this was worse than death.
If only this were all a dream. Even dying on the spot might be better.
Magnus visibly wilted, his regal bearing gone. The Crimson King's spirit had died a thousand times over.
He couldn't find words for it.
If Eden were here, he'd sum it up in a heartbeat:
Behold the proud, self-styled Sorcerer-King of the Thousand Sons—the Crimson Magnus—
Publicly humiliated!
And not just in front of the Imperium and the Thousand Sons; the Chaos Gods, greater daemons, other fallen Primarchs, the Aeldari… all were tuned in.
All those powerful entities had ways to scry these events via sorcerous means. They had witnessed the Crimson King's father drag him off for a thrashing while he bawled like a child with a stubbed toe.
Many who disliked Magnus had already snipped out pieces of the footage and saved them, ready to spread it everywhere.
And whenever they ran into Magnus in future, they could replay it—over and over—delivering an instant gut-punch to his pride.
Truly… a galaxy-wide, all-encompassing humiliation.
Drip.
Realizing all of this, Magnus lost even his posture as a lofty daemon-king.
He shut his single eye, lips trembling. A tear slid slowly down his cheek…
(End of Chapter)
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