Azek Ahriman does not believe in the so-called atonement.

Frankly, he didn't believe that a person's sins could be quantified, or that they could be eliminated in some form.

If he had time, he could delve into the topic until he could write a thought-pro full of a dozen parchment rolls, or drive himself completely insane. But he doesn't have the time or energy to do it right now.

He is no longer in his former glory.

Azek Ahriman – traitor, liar, fool, handicapped, blind. He who sacrifices the legion with his own hands, and who murders his father with his own hands

So, why did he stand with these people?

Björn, a member of the wolf pack. Strong, savage, seemingly stupid but wise, like all wolves, and their fathers. A stubborn man, the murderer who disabled him, but also the one who protected him along the way.

Saul Tawitz, son of the Emperor. Elegant and deadly, handsome as a marble sculpture, it also stands out among the emperor's sons. But those were the impressions that Ahriman had of him, and now, all he could hear was Saul Tavitz's voice.

In the darkness of the blind world, Saul Tavitz has been transformed into a bloodied man, with long hair and a blade in hand, slashing with no grace of his former grace, only a roar that rages harder than the last.

Sigismund, the commander of the Imperial Fist, is one of Roger Donn's favorite children. Passionate about fighting, loyal to challenges, and unmatched in dueling, Ahriman barely heard his voice.

Sigismund changed, became silent, became silent, and did not even make a sound in battle. Only at the moment of his fall, he will cry out softly. Then, he will stand up again.

Finally, finally, it's that thunder. Ahriman hadn't seen him before, but he had heard the words 'for unity' from books that shouldn't have been read.

Therefore, he vaguely understood the identity of the thunder, but he could not construct a reasonable image of him in his own mind, and the thunder seemed to be just thunder, a golden thunder that should have died but stood here

And still chanting for reunification.

Open-mindedness is incomprehensible, or perhaps, just because he has seen everything. Just as he had heard what Ahriman had done, he still only called him blind with a sigh.

There was no insult, no contempt, just a fluffy 'blind man', as if to find an explanation for his crimes, to attribute those stupid actions to his disability.

But that's not the case.

The truth is.

"Magazine!" Bjorn growled.

Azek Ahriman tossed the magazine to him and proceeded to reload the next one.

He fell to his knees, his hands trembling, and the bullets flowed between his fingers like a stream of metal, and blood was strewn all over them. Bullets were pressed into the magazine, but his trembling fingers felt terrible pain.

The after-effects of his disability still afflicted him, even if he was Astarte.

When has Ahriman ever experienced something like this in the past? Reloading is the servant's business, and his business is killing, fighting, and gathering knowledge. He should have gracefully wandered among the corpses of his enemies, the cold light of lightning remaining on his fingertips.

Get out of my head. Ahriman thought indignantly, and then it turned out to be a swear word that came naturally, as if he had been born there.

You'd fucking better not come back.

He didn't say it, just coughed up two indistinct muffled noises in his throat in a breathless voice. That's all there was to it, and then there was a gnashing of teeth with which he threw that thought out of his brain.

He fell to his knees and began to reload the magazine in a more focused manner. Eleven magazines were scattered around him, and thirteen minutes earlier, their total number had been twenty-six.

He didn't know how long the magazines and the picked up bombs that had come out of the chamber would last, but he hoped they would survive the wave.

"Magazine!"

Bjorn roared again, he could only speak when he finished firing. An empty magazine fell to the ground, and without raising his head, Ahriman threw him a magazine that was already full of explosive shells, and began to grope through the pile of bullets.

The hell they live in lacks everything, but not corpses. Thousands of corpses from nowhere lay quietly in the dark, mutilated weapons or bombers that hadn't had time to shoot were lying with them, and everything fell into place.

"Stand back!" Suddenly, someone yelled.

The gunfire immediately stopped, and Bjorn dragged Ahriman from the ground without saying a word, dragging him backwards. Chiko didn't care about his rude actions, just listened intently.

He managed to hear Saul Tavitz's voice, and the deafening roar of something.

"Stay here." Björn said, then let go of his hand.

Ahriman shook, and before he could stand firmly, a short combat knife was stuffed in his hand, and his hand was cold and sticky, and the smell of blood came to his face.

Bjorn just turned around and left, joining the fight, and in fact, they all joined the fight.

Except for him.

Ahriman fell to his knees, shame and shame rushing over him, forcing him to clench his teeth.

He couldn't stay on his feet for long, the injury to his ankle wouldn't heal, and he didn't know what Bjorn was doing, and he couldn't even get force on his ankle for long.

Ahriman dipped his hands in pools of blood, feeling the bloody cold, and distracted himself.

He listened intently to the battle in the distance, and Astarte's peculiar physiology made it easy for him to discern the current situation. Thunder and Sigismund were at the forefront, drawing the beast's attention

Saul Tavitz is pulling and swinging his sword from the side, Bjorn is still running, what is he going to do? Ahriman got the answer half a second later, and he heard a roar that belonged only to the wolves.

"For Ruth!"

And then there was a bang. A heavy, muffled sound?

Something was knocked into the air and whistled through the air like a cannonball. Ahriman staggered to his feet again and stumbled over. A pungent smell of blood came over his face, and there was a flurry of strange grunts.

"Björn?"

The lone wolf replied with a cough.

"Are you okay?"

"I can't die." Björn spoke clearly. "Give me the knife."

As he was told, Ahriman handed the knife to the lone wolf, who reached out and took it, then ran past again. But Ahriman didn't stay where he was, but followed.

He reached for his waist, where a book was waiting quietly. Book, at this time, the result is still a book, Chiko unconsciously pulled the corners of his mouth, feeling a burst of crazy absurdity.

Humanity walked out of Terra and tried to conquer the entire galaxy under the leadership of the Emperor. How long did the Great Expedition take? Before the Great Crusade, how long did it take for the Emperor to get humans out of Terra?

And now it all comes to the beginning, the galaxy is burning, Terra is burning, and humanity is fighting on their home planet to face their ultimate enemy.

Face chaos.

Face the monsters of the vast ocean.

The Vast Ocean—Ahriman's thoughts faded away, he was still walking, but he wasn't here anymore.

He pronounced the word, the vast ocean

It's a wonderful name, so wonderful that you forget everything. Knowledge is the ocean, and it is also the ocean. However, the ocean is dangerous.

In the time of Guterra, people would choose to worship gods, sacrifices, superstitions and many taboos in order to open up the sea. However, the Guteras never really conquered the sea, not for a moment.

Like the Thousand Sons, they also used sacrifice, and they did the same to set many taboos at all costs. It's all about going deep into the ocean and exploring its mysteries.

They self-righteously feel that they are a special group of people who can take whatever they need without having to pay any price.

But how many sons of heaven have explored that ocean throughout the ages? Looking at the galaxy as a whole, psionics are by no means rare talents. How many people have been deep into that ocean before them, and how many have been lost in it forever?

Ahriman returns to the real world.

He heard the thunder roaring, still those four words, still for unity. He was almost going to laugh - oh my God, why aren't you tired? Why do you keep shouting this outdated slogan?

Then he heard Saul Tawitz's voice, firm, stubborn, as if Sigismund were speaking.

"Hold your ground!" The Emperor's Son shouted, he sounded like an Imperial Fist, but the real Imperial Fist didn't say a word, just swung his sword. In a flash, the blade slashed into the flesh of a monster like a storm.

The thing roared, and the sound of the whirring wind echoed through the air with its rage. Then, at that very moment, Ahriman saw it.

He had lost his eyes, but he still saw.

He saw a distorted, long, hard-haired face with black hair, and a jaw that had split apart. He saw the flesh remaining between its teeth, and the skin-covered eyes on top of its forehead. Those eyes were densely packed with blood, internal organs, and rotting teeth.

Those eyes were fixed on him.

Instinctively, Ahriman rubbed his fingers, and a spell was about to come out. His anti-psionic collar had vanished when he fell, and interestingly, he hadn't used a single spell again until now.

Humans can be trained to be servile, and some prisoners will follow their prison routines and habits after they are released, but this is not the case with Ahriman. He doesn't use psionic energy not because he's domesticated, it's because he's afraid.

A few times, he tried to use a spell - and then he thought about the consequences, and fear followed.

'What price are you willing to pay for your primordial and legion?' ’

"Everything." Ahriman muttered to himself. "I'm willing to give everything."

He lowered his head, and his left hand trembled as he touched a book tied to his waist.

It had been dipped in rivers of blood countless times because of Ahriman's kneeling posture, but it had never been stained with blood. Its surface was still rough, and the brutal marks of the knives and axes were too obvious even for a blind man.

Ahriman ran his fingers over the scars and heard a roar again.

"For Ruth!"

And then there was some strange sound of a blade entering the body, very distinct, very memorable, because, just after this muffled sound, something struggled violently, and there was a succession of dull explosions.

"You reckless bastard!" Saul Tavitz scolded. "I'll skin you next time I do that!"

"Please, Nightblade! Even we are ashamed of their craftsmanship! Björn howled happily.

Ahriman heard him laughing, and he wanted to say something, but he didn't have time because someone had dragged him away again. Judging by the sound of calm breathing, it must have been Sigismund who did this.

Then there were more sounds of running, everyone was running, but Ahriman didn't know why. He gritted his teeth and endured the sharp pain in his ankle, barely finding a little balance in Sigismund's drag.

After more than ten seconds, they stopped, but Thunder burst out laughing.

"That's interesting!" He laughs. "That thing's weakness is actually on the top of the head!"

"The weakness of everything is overhead." Sigismund said hoarsely. "Decapitate or impale the heart, there's always a way to get them dead."

"So—" Ahriman coughed. "-You won?"

"It's us." Saul Tavitz corrected. "Yes, we won, but that's not the point, because the stench of chaos hasn't left. They'll be back, it's just a matter of time. ”

"They're getting smaller." Sigismund said. "It's not normal, but, given the terrain changes in the Desperate Fortress, I think it's acceptable. They and we are in Terra, so if Terra and we accept this change, then they will accept it as well. ”

"What do you want to say?" Bjorn asked with a lack of interest.

"I don't think they should be able to act like they used to."

Sigismund pondered his words and spoke slowly.

"They're going to have to find an entrance to the Torch, they're going to have to find a way to get into the Torch, and we. . . It's some kind of beacon that they have to find us before they can find us. ”

If Ahriman could still see, he would have seen the bewilderment on Bjorn's face, the silent sigh of Saul Tavitz, and the calm on Thunder's face.

Björn and he couldn't understand what Sigismund meant, but the other two could. They knew about it, but they didn't choose to debunk it, until now. Sigismund tore up the lie and brought the truth to everyone

They looked at each other in silence, and should have said something more, but another voice sounded in the darkness.

They grabbed their weapons and prepared for battle. Only Ahriman knelt in a pool of blood, wordlessly clutching the book.

This chapter is 4k, probably more, hopefully I can write another chapter.

It was there yesterday, but I didn't write it ()

(End of chapter)