“Fire!” Perturabo ordered immediately.
The bolters in the hands of the Iron Warriors fired frantically, but the bullets passed right through the bodies of the wraiths and struck the wall opposite.
Even the blazing flames fired from the multi-meltas in the hands of the Siege Tyrants could only make the wraiths dissipate slightly before they reformed in the blink of an eye.
A wraith pounced onto an Iron Warrior and drilled into his power armor.
That warrior immediately let out an agonizing roar, his body uncontrollably raising his bolter and aiming at his comrades.
“Kill him!” Perturabo roared, swinging his forgebreaker hammer and smashing that warrior’s head to pieces.
But more wraiths surged over.
Iron Warriors constantly fell, and the defensive line retreated steadily.
The steel and gunpowder they excelled at were completely useless before these intangible Warp creatures.
“Purify!”
Levi’s voice suddenly rang out.
He pulled out the long-unused Third-Circle purification crystal from his system space, held it high, and channeled his mental power.
Dazzling silver light gushed from Levi’s hand like a tide, subsequently sweeping through the entire cabin.
The wraiths struck by the light instantly let out shrill screams, turning into wisps of green smoke and dissipating without a trace.
Those wraiths that had drilled into power armor were also forced out by the light, turning to ash within the silver gleam.
In less than ten seconds, all the wraiths vanished completely.
The cold resentment within the cabin was swept away, and even the traces of black resentment condensed on the walls became dim and lifeless.
The Iron Warriors stared at Levi dumbfounded, even forgetting to lower the bolters in their hands.
The enemy that had cost them casualties after fighting for a long time was actually dealt with by this psyker with a casual secret psychic art.
The hand Perturabo used to grip the forgebreaker tightened.
His face turned red and white in turns.
After a long time, he fiercely roared at his subordinates.
“What are you standing around for?
Clean up the battlefield!
Bring all the corpses out and bury them properly!”
After roaring, he turned to look at Levi and said,
“…Not bad.”
Levi did not reply, his brows still tightly furrowed.
The Flesh Change of the Thousand Sons he had seen on Prospero last time was still vivid in his mind.
Those seemingly purified flesh mutations had suddenly erupted just a few days later, almost devouring a Thousand Sons warrior. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
He had long since drawn a bloody conclusion: when it came to things related to the Warp, there was never any such thing as “completely solved.”
He tapped his fingertip between his eyebrows and muttered a spell in a low voice, activating an inheritance of the wizard world—the Abyssal Resonance Method.
This was the only wizard art attached to the Abyssal Resonance Method at the wizard apprentice level, capable of granting the user the ability to see through the essence of the Warp, ignoring ordinary disguises and illusions.
Faint purple patterns climbed up the corners of his eyes, and deep within his pupils rippled abyss-like black vortexes.
In his perception, the originally calm cabin instantly changed appearance.
The silver-white alloy hull was densely covered with black threads, writhing inside the metal like blood vessels, extending from the corridor all the way to the deepest part of the warship.
Every inch of those seemingly clean bulkheads was radiating weak yet fatal Warp radiation.
Levi’s voice sank.
“This ship has been completely corrupted.”
“What did you say?” Perturabo abruptly turned his head.
“I just had a Techmarine check it.
Aside from some damage to the propulsion power systems, even the Warp engines can start normally!”
“I’m not talking about the surface.” Levi pointed at the deck beneath his feet.
“The alloy structure of the entire warship has been infiltrated.
It is not occupied by wraiths; it is the very shell of that Warp creature.
This warship should be the Lord of the Storm those cultists spoke of.”
Peturabo’s face instantly darkened.
He stared fixedly at his wrist, looking at the data he had just obtained from scanning this warship—everything was normal.
Although data could not be faked, the scenes of wraiths passing through walls and warriors turning against each other were still vivid in his mind.
The abyss-like black vortex in the depths of Levi’s eyes also forced him to believe this unbelievable conclusion.
He paced back and forth, gripping the forgebreaker, the soles of his boots scraping ear-piercing sounds against the metal deck.
He kept feeling that this warship was slipping away from his control.
After a long while, he abruptly stopped pacing, turned his head to look at Levi, his tone as hard as stone.
“Then tell me, what do we do?”
This was the first time in his life he had actively asked a psyker how to deal with an enemy.
The Levi before him had resolved the crisis the Fourth Legion was helpless against entirely on his own, which was enough to prove that Magnus’s psychic system was not completely useless.
Hearing Perturabo’s question, Levi also muttered in his heart.
This warship was already bound to the Lord of the Storm, and he had no way to deal with it either.
Destroying the warship would release the Lord of the Storm, at which time the entire planet of Morningstar would become rations for Warp creatures; ignoring it was even less advisable, as this thing would completely awaken sooner or later.
After a moment, Levi had an idea, his tone steady.
“Leave it to us Thousand Sons to handle.
We have specialized spirit-sealing runes that can safely bring this ship back to Prospero to slowly purify.
The Iron Warriors do not excel at dealing with this kind of thing; keeping it will be a disaster sooner or later.”
He said this flawlessly, entirely in a tone of considering the big picture.
But only Levi himself knew that the so-called “purification” was a complete charade.
He intended to pocket this warship and sell it to Wizard Elias to repay the favor of the flesh-curing array he had given him.
Although this Lord of the Storm before his eyes was not the daemon under Tzeentch that Wizard Elias needed, it was also a high-tier Warp aggregate formed from the resentment of psykers who had died tragically, basically no different from a Warp daemon.
In this current era, the Warp was calm, and daemons extremely rarely showed themselves proactively in the material universe; they simply could not be caught.
As for going to catch the tutelaries of the Thousand Sons to repay the favor, Levi felt both like crying and laughing.
The original owner of this body was truly unlucky.
His psychic talent was indeed extremely high, and his ability to attract daemons was also extremely high.
The tutelary system was not mature; previously, among the scholars of the five great schools, not many people had learned it at all.
As for those scholars who had learned the summoning, their tutelaries were also merely pure Warp creatures, not Tzeentch daemons.
Since becoming Chief Librarian, he had confiscated all summoning tomes for tutelaries, destroyed them all, and ordered a ban on learning them.
“Is that so?” Perturabo stared at Levi’s fully enclosed helmet with a face full of doubt, attempting to find something wrong in his body language and tone.
But he quickly gave up.
Levi wore a tightly fitted helmet, and his breathing and heartbeat frequencies were also very normal.
He simply could not find any flaws showing that Levi wanted to pocket this warship.
Through his helmet visor, Levi watched the Lord of Iron’s face full of suspicion and tightly furrowed brows, laughing inwardly.
Every psychic scholar under Magnus had trained the ten-tier state of mind system.
Their mental state level was extremely high, and they did not show joy or anger; others fundamentally could not probe whether they were lying or hiding selfish motives.
Thaniel_a_goodchild.