“Only this way can I fake my death and slip free.
I just need to control him through the Path Interstice.
First I’ll blend into the main force, then look for a chance to break away from this place later.”
After mulling it over for a short while, Heydrich had a plan in mind—he intended to fake his death and escape.
What’s more, he could make use of the space Necron’s vessel to travel to other planets; a ship like that was of no use to mortals.
But if this gambit succeeded, then he would advance one step further along his Path.
As for the strain of these ships at that point, with the durability of his own flesh and the protection of his Path energy, it shouldn’t be much of a problem.
There was no need to stay forever trapped in Hive City Kuent.
The universe was vast—only out there did he have the chance to push himself further.
It would also let him completely sidestep the impact of subsequent events on himself.
His home had its own opportunities.
Soon, as time wore on, Heydrich followed the fictional persona he had conjured out of that secret chamber.
After that he arrived at the enormous landing pad belonging to the Governor’s palace, where a formation of several transports—Valkyries and Thunderhawks and the like—had already gathered.
Among them, aside from those three Astartes, there was also a well-equipped force.
“This is the Sector Governor’s private army, which he had always been reluctant to deploy.
Backed by the Sector Governor’s wealth, their combat power can already rival some of the less-than-top-tier Astra Militarum.”
Seeing that this one had sent out even his most elite troops, Heydrich was somewhat surprised.
But on reflection it was perfectly normal.
The obelisk located in the hive world would in all likelihood pose no great problem.
The one out on the wastelands, however, was a different matter.
When the time came and he was about to be banished back into the Warp, those daemonic brats might well join forces, and then the pressure upon the wastelands would be terrifying.
“Great Angel, we offer up everything we have to you.”
As Heydrich appeared, almost the very next instant everyone there dropped to their knees.
This included not only the other three Astartes—Heydrich even saw Irena, leading a large contingent of Sisters of Battle, kneeling there as well.
And of course, besides them, there were also a great many fanatics of the Imperial Cult, who had all come here with an utterly fervent, martyr-minded zeal.
“Everyone, rise.
All of you, move out.”
“Great Sage, time is pressing now—the forces I can mobilize…”
“It’s already enough.”
Looking over the people around him, Heydrich merely shook his head, signaling to the Governor that there was no need to mobilize more manpower.
It wouldn’t be amusing to capsize in a gutter.
Besides, he still held a trump card—an entire Necron army within his mustard-seed dimension.
The Sector Governor didn’t know about it now, but it was impossible for the other Astartes not to know that he had secured a sizable batch of space Necrons.
With these forces in hand now, and with the support of these troops, it was more than sufficient.
“So this is the Ancient Sage?”
At this moment, the Sisters of Battle positioned at the rear all looked at Irena with no small measure of envy.
To march alongside an Ancient Sage who had seen the Emperor—this was a supreme honor.
“Mm…”
Only after hearing her sisters’ voices did Irena’s expression turn somewhat complicated.
She still couldn’t connect this Ancient Sage with that young man who had seemed a little flippant and reckless, but in the end it was wartime, so Irena said nothing more.
“Then everyone, move out.”
Glancing left and right, Heydrich knew that every minute of time was now precious.
It would be trouble if the two Chaos sides settled their contest and produced a victor.
Soon, as the troops finished boarding, the dense flying squadron lifted off from the topmost level of the hive.
They flew at such a height now—a full tens of thousands of meters up—above the exhaust fumes that perpetually shrouded the planet.
So given the conditions on the ground, they were basically invisible from below.
“At this altitude…
how exactly do you plan to do it?”
At the aircraft’s porthole, Heydrich confirmed his current altitude, then turned to look at a middle-aged man beside him clad in ornate adornments.
This was the leader of these soldiers.
Just as Heydrich had said, he would not be commanding them, so the Sector Governor had sent out his finest subordinate.
“Great Ancient Sage, we will reach our destination in three Terran hours.
However, the ground situation is complex, so we must clear out a stretch of ground.
Therefore we will conduct an airborne drop.
May I ask, do you have any…”
“I am not familiar with you, so I will not be responsible for the command.”
Hearing this, the corner of Heydrich’s eye couldn’t help but twitch—though of course, since he wore a helmet, no one could see it.
A direct parachute drop from over tens of thousands of meters—however you heard it, the thing sounded outrageous.
He knew that back during the earthquake, a five-thousand-meter jump had required every man to write his last will.
But this thing was several times that, and because of those terrifying exhaust fumes you couldn’t see the ground conditions at all.
Sure enough, this was the superhuman physique of Warhammer 40K—he couldn’t view it through the eyes of his past life.
“Very well, I will jump down as the vanguard.”
At this Heydrich nodded; he would be the first to land.
In any case this body was merely something he had conjured up, so he had no fear of sacrificing it at all.
As for his true self, he chose to conceal himself among the great host, with no one paying him the slightest attention.
“Operating on two fronts is a bit of a bother, but it’s not a big problem either.”
After muttering a line under his breath, Heydrich said nothing more.
Soon the flying squadron reached its destination—a small town located on the edge of the continent.
It was a little town that made its living off the rail tracks of trains speeding across the wastelands, very much carrying the aesthetic of America’s westward expansion era.
“This little town…”
Looking over the data in his hand, Heydrich couldn’t help but cover his eyes.
It had originally been a town that was getting by decently well.
Then, because the Sector Governor needed to pay the tithe, he had imposed brutal, rapacious taxation directly upon a town like this.
Not only were a great many villagers beaten to death outright by the tax officials— after huge quantities of their food, water-purification tablets, and gas masks had been seized, more than seventy percent of the town’s people died off one after another over the following month.
To the Sector Governor, his power base was in the hive; the tribes out upon the wastelands were nothing but scum that could be sacrificed at any time.
Then the power of Nurgle descended directly upon this town, raising the dead back to life.
It turned the nearly annihilated town teeming with vitality in the span of just a few days, and it spread rapidly across the entire wastelands.
And then, because of the need to deal with the Khorne cult in the under-hive, the Governor temporarily had no troops to spare to wipe them out, and so things became what they were now.
“Right and wrong, I can’t be bothered to weigh anymore.
Everyone, charge with me!!!”
At this point Heydrich resolutely cast aside the stray thoughts, then leapt down in a single bound directly from tens of thousands of meters in the sky.
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