Chapter 45: Now I'm Really Going to be Sacrificed to Chaos

Chapter 45: Now I'm Really Going to be Sacrificed to Chaos

"However, we have discovered a pattern. These nobles typically form secret societies dedicated to hedonism and also seek out humans with exceptionally refined senses to use as material for their sacrifices to Warp entities."

Visibly, upon hearing the word "sacrifice," the terror in the Archon's eyes could no longer be concealed.

"And as you know, the senses of an Eldar far exceed the limits of a human," Ramesses added pointedly.

Aglaia reacted quickly, playing along. "According to statistical analysis of past cases, such material would undoubtedly attract the attention of those nobles."

"Then I imagine," Ramesses continued, "that Inquisitors would not refuse such a tempting bait?"

"Of course not."

"Mmph! Mmph!" The Archon, with only his head still mobile, began to struggle violently. He slammed the back of his head against the chains with all his might, producing a faint clanking sound—the loudest noise he could make.

After deliberately letting him stew for a while, allowing Ramesses and the Inquisitor to discuss the "details," Romulus gave a nod, and Arthur finally tore off the Archon's gag.

"I'll talk! Ask me anything, cough, cough, I'll tell you everything—" the Archon gasped, squeezing every bit of air from his lungs with a speed he had never before achieved, his voice high and strained as he spoke in Low Gothic. Even as a searing pain shot through his lungs and he coughed up blood, he didn't pause for a second. "Just don't give me to the cultists of the Thirsting Lady! I'll do anything for you!"

He was certain now. The soul-shattering terror he had felt before was definitely from the handmaidens of Slaanesh. These people knew what the Drukhari feared, and they really had the means to deliver him into Her hands.

"I'm begging you!"

Being sacrificed to Slaanesh and sent to the six-ringed palace... that was a fate he absolutely could not accept! He began to weep.

"I'll do anything."

We liked you better when you were defiant.

Most of the people around looked on in confusion, unable to understand why a Drukhari who had faced torture without flinching and did not fear death would be so terrified of a Pleasure Cult.

"Ask your questions," Romulus said, stepping aside. They knew nothing about the situation in the Pierdra Sector, so even if they wanted to ask something, they had no specific direction. It was better to let the "locals" have a go first.

"Thank you, my Lord."

Aglaia first jotted down on her parchment that the Drukhari feared being sacrificed to the dark god they called the "Thirsting Lady," then took a step forward—and walked straight into Tyberos's gauntlet. She hadn't even noticed the massive figure moving to her side.

"..."

Only then did she realize that Romulus's words had not been directed at her.

"My apologies, my Lord." Aglaia scrambled back. A being who could lead a force of just over a hundred to wipe out over five hundred Drukhari without a single loss... she couldn't afford to offend any of them.

"..."

The four transmigrators exchanged a glance. This Inquisitor was interesting. A nerdy, academic type, especially one without her own fleet, who dared to go toe-to-toe with a Black Templars crusade on someone else's ship... that was a rare breed.

"You may ask your questions first," Tyberos said after a moment's thought. His own mission was just to trade for equipment with the Adeptus Mechanicus. Meeting Romulus and his group was an unexpected bonus. He didn't know much about the situation within the Imperium, and the Void-stone was a secret of the Carcharodons, not suitable for public discussion. Recalling her previous interrogation, he added, "But you will ensure he remains alive."

"Of course, my Lord." Aglaia had wanted to keep the Inquisition's secrets as well, but she knew that was unrealistic. So she took out her notebook and got straight to the point.

"Who hired you, xenos."

"He calls himself the Seeker."

Hearing this, Aglaia knew she was on the right track. "The Seeker" was the operational codename her mentor, the man she had been investigating, used when in the field.

"The location of your meeting."

"Within what you call the Ghoul Stars, at a black spire belonging to the Kabal of the Bloody Skull. I would need a star-chart for the exact coordinates."

"Here?" The Inquisitor summoned her servo-skull and displayed the sector coordinates.

"Correct."

"Your specific mission."

"To intercept the Ark Mechanicus before it enters the planet's orbit. The Seeker specified that after losing the void battle, we were to forcibly board the Ark Mechanicus. Doing so would be enough to prevent this fleet from entering the Pierdra system."

Cawl's logic-engines nearly overloaded. He had never imagined that his plan, which he had kept hidden for ten thousand years, would be known by some entity he had never even heard of. He then looked at the transmigrators, recalled the light of the Emperor that clung to them, and felt a sense of relief.

This must be the guidance of the Omnissiah.

"What was your payment?"

"The hunt. The Seeker promised to gather the entire population of the Pierdra Sector onto the capital world, Pierdra Prime, for the grandest slaughter-feast. He would allow us to take slaves freely. He has bought off six Kabals, including the Flayed Skull. I am the Archon of one of the Flayed Skull's hunting fleets."

The Drukhari needed to feed on the souls of other beings to sustain themselves. The population of an entire sector was an unimaginably vast treasure for them.

Of course, in the knowledge held by the Inquisitors, souls had another use.

The hand recording the interrogation trembled. As she got her answers, Aglaia's face showed no joy at solving the mystery. Instead, it began to turn visibly pale.

"What did he do during this process, and what did you do?" she pressed.

"The Seeker provided us with the coordinates of the sector's Imperial Navy fleet and fed them false intelligence, allowing us to annihilate them. He was responsible for dealing with the fleets of other powers. After that, we were to conduct raids to confuse the enemy."

"The specific process."

"I don't know."

Aglaia stared silently at the Archon.

"I really don't know!" the Archon was on the verge of tears.

"Inquisitor Aglaia," Romulus spoke up. "May I interrupt?"

"Please, my Lord," Aglaia replied respectfully.

"While we were lost in the Warp, we encountered a Strike Cruiser that had been attacked by heretics. Inside the ship's Gellar Field, we found this." Romulus directly sent the video log he had recorded to the Inquisitor, including the footage of the psyker who had been turned into a Chaos portal and the runes carved on his back. He had prepared this material long ago.

"My... my Lord, where did this Strike Cruiser depart from?" Aglaia asked, her lips trembling as she saw the Chaos runes on the cultist's back—identical to the ones she had seen when reviewing her mentor's archives.

Romulus looked at Sister Arabella.

"It departed from the ocean world of Tidan," the Canoness recited. "It docked at Watch Fortress Eternal Hunt en route, and was then attacked by Drukhari xenos in the Manster-3 Death System of the Pierdra Sector. Subsequently, a Chaos incursion occurred in the Navigator's Sanctum, and the vessel was dragged into the Warp."

The Canoness then began to mark the route and various time points on the projected star-chart from memory.

Aglaia quickly pulled out her own paper documents and began to compare them.

As the pieces of information began to align, her expression grew more and more vacant.

Chaos. That old bastard is really tainted by Chaos.

"...It matches. It all matches."

Repeating the same phrase over and over, Aglaia gasped for air, nearly fainting. Only one word echoed in her mind.

Damnation!