My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 493: Slaanesh Scores Big
+If the Dark King could do it, why can't I?+
Within the Warp, colossal waves churned and crashed.
Screams.
Curses.
Arguments.
Tides of different colors surged and collided, shoving against one another.
Upon the Brass Throne, the Lord of Blood roared furiously into the void.
Within the lush garden, the Decaying King waved his spoon in futile frustration.
Inside the Ever-Changing Labyrinth, the Wise Sage tore at his mutating feathered scales in madness, crimson soul fragments drifting from between clawed fingers.
And upon Terra's throne, the Emperor, shrouded in light like a blazing sun, let out a furious roar.
—Slaanesh—Slaanesh!!!
Slaanesh!!!
At this moment, if the Emperor could move freely—if he could enter the Warp—then he would have raised his sword without hesitation and plunged it into that heap of willingly corrupted flesh and duel it to the death.
It's a madman.
A true madman.
The prisoner upon the Golden Throne roared with fury, having completely lost his usual composure. Waves of the Emperor's presence spread outward, causing even other entities within the Warp to feel uncomfortable.
When Slaanesh had happily waited within the Ring of Pleasure, the spectators who had hoped to witness the Youngest Queen weakened had finally realized something was wrong.
At first, the other three gods had been pleased with themselves.
After the destruction of the Lord of the Underworld at Cadia, among the Four Champions who had perished body and soul, the Lord of the Underworld had clearly carried more of Slaanesh's power than anyone else's.
Afterward, the weakened Nurgle and Tzeentch joined forces.
Together with Khorne, who had also failed within the Great Rift, they applied pressure upon Slaanesh.
Nurgle had gained Omegon and, through Mortarion, seized portions of the authority of Death and Plague.
Khorne had gained Alpharius. Having previously spent enormous power attempting to claim Sanguinius and Angron in realspace, he had become weakened.
Tzeentch had gained the shattered Magnus, only to lose part of his strength to the Lord of the Underworld during a "planned" retreat.
Beneath the silent gaze of the Emperor upon the Golden Throne, the three gods had turned their attention toward Slaanesh.
Only Fulgrim—
Only Slaanesh's fate had not been disrupted by the Lord of the Underworld.
Among gods, conflict was never about scarcity.
It was about imbalance.
The eternal equilibrium could not be broken.
But from the perspective of the gods, there was good news.
Along the River of Fate belonging to the Eldar—the race most closely tied to the Dark Prince—a black leaf had quietly appeared.
The Eldar, ever obsessed with observing destiny, would never ignore such an opportunity.
A tiny tributary beyond the main battlefield flowed onward until it joined the rushing torrent of Slaanesh's fate.
The Emperor resented the xenos for "stealing" the Lord of the Underworld.
Yet as master of mankind, he understood the laws of the Warp.
He immediately sensed the blurring of Slaanesh's fate-line.
Not far ahead along that branch of destiny, Slaanesh's power fluctuated violently.
The Youngest Queen's authority would be partially consumed by the Lord of the Underworld, leaving the Dark Prince weakened.
The other damaged gods applauded the prospect.
Without requiring Slaanesh's consent, they cheerfully decided the Dark Prince's future for it.
With just a minor Eldar incident, Slaanesh would be dragged down to the same level as the rest of them.
They even monitored the Youngest Queen to ensure the weakening would occur.
Their powers clashed.
In the end, the Dark Prince appeared to meekly accept its fate.
The Lord of the Underworld, drawn in by the Eldar, would wound Slaanesh.
The god of excess would flee in panic.
It would survive, but lose a portion of its strength.
But—
But—
That madman!!!
That lunatic!!!
It had actually chosen to repeat what the Emperor himself had done long ago!
Not only the three gods, even the Emperor, nominally the superior of the Lord of the Underworld, erupted in furious outrage.
Golden fire blazed around him as though he were cursing both the damned Eldar and Slaanesh itself.
He knew it.
He had always known it.
The god born from the Eldar's depravity was ultimately no different from the Eldar themselves.
A race willing to steal humanity's power for its own desires.
Long ago, in orbit above the Perfect City, the Emperor had used the properties of the Black Domain to create the "Finger Bone of Faith."
The Finger Bone of Faith could divert humanity's corrupted faith in the Emperor and feed it to the Lord of the Underworld.
Through careful regulation, the Emperor ensured that the Lord of the Underworld—while consuming those impure beliefs—would never surpass the Master of Mankind in power.
At the same time, the Emperor could, at any moment, hurl the entirety of humanity's faith toward the Lord of the Underworld.
The result would be the equivalent of igniting a miniature black hole within the Warp.
And now, even after Cadia, the combined power of the Emperor and the Four Gods remained sufficient to suppress the Black Domain.
But...
What if the prayers directed toward the Lord of the Underworld were strengthened by the faith of the Eldar as well?
What then?
The ancient Eldar had once possessed the power of an entire race capable of creating a complete divine realm of their own. Even in their downfall, the power of their faith could not be underestimated.
This was one of the reasons the Emperor despised the Eldar.
Xenos had to be eradicated—but for the sake of the Great Work, he had been forced to tolerate them.
And now, the greatest bastard in the galaxy, a god born from the Eldar's corruption, was carrying out something billions of times more shameless than anything the Eldar had ever done.
Just as the Emperor used the Black Domain to refine humanity's faith, Slaanesh was using the Realm of Death to purge its own dissonance.
Rather, it had gone even further.
When it came to exploiting Hades, Slaanesh had surpassed even the Emperor.
Upon the Golden Throne, the Emperor blazed with fury.
Slaanesh itself embodied the tendency of pursuing excess to the point of self-destruction. Yet just as Nurgle, once associated with death, had chosen "rebirth through cycles" after experiencing death countless times—
The gods were slaves to their own domains.
But the identity of "god" itself was another set of chains.
For countless ages, the Chaos Gods had ruled their realms safely, constrained both by their portfolios and by the limits imposed by their divine identities—
Until the god called Slaanesh decided to perform a mad act of self-sacrifice.
It would break the constraints of "godhood" while still remaining true to its own concepts.
How wonderful.
How utterly wonderful.
The Youngest Queen breathed softly, gazing at the waters of death rapidly rising around her feet. Unable to resist, she caressed herself and laughed.
A bright, joyful laugh.
Only she could do this.
It was as though fate itself had crafted this opportunity as a gift for her.
The blood-mad lunatic upon the Brass Throne could not do it.
The weak fat fool in the garden could not do it—unless he allowed the Lord of the Underworld to consume him completely and grant him true death, in which case he would cease to exist.
The madman in the Crystal Labyrinth was unworthy.
Even the Emperor was unworthy.
Was Hades the exclusive property of humanity?
Slaanesh gave the same answer as the Eldar:
No.
Only Slaanesh could dance freely with the Lord of the Underworld.
Only Slaanesh could dance with Death itself.
The mindless Lord of the Underworld gripped her hand tightly, each step intending to destroy her completely, while she danced backward with graceful agility, savoring the thrill of being only an instant away from true annihilation.
With every step she grew weaker.
More vulnerable.
Yet at the same time she became purer.
Stronger.
As long as she did not die—as long as she remained seated upon her throne—Slaanesh could never truly lose.
Even if the other party wasn't willing.
Fortunately, it no longer possessed reason.
This was the Eldar's opportunity.
And Slaanesh's as well.
Watch carefully.
Whether you are the Emperor or Tzeentch—
This is the proper way to use the Lord of the Underworld.
Laughing happily, Slaanesh pulled away the layers of gauzy veils wrapped around her and danced them into the waters of death.
. . .
Side Story (Non-Canon Comedy)
"Bleeegh—"
Inside a restroom, Hades was collapsed in front of a toilet, vomiting violently.
Standing behind him was a worried-looking Emperor. The Master of Mankind crouched nearby, occasionally patting him on the back.
Even Malcador, who normally enjoyed mocking Hades, remained silent. Leaning against the wall with his staff in hand, the old man wore an expression of faint sympathy.
At last, the long, painful fit of retching subsided.
Hades lifted his head weakly, eyes vacant.
"...Holy shit..."
He stared blankly into space as though recalling some horrific memory.
"Holy shit... fu—"
The vulgar word he had been about to utter never quite left his lips.
The silent Malcador finally spoke.
The old man pulled down his hood with an expression that suggested he couldn't bear to look.
"You have to understand. The Dark Prince is just like that."
Hades slowly turned toward him in disbelief.
Unfortunately, Malcador had already anticipated this reaction and promptly pulled his hood back up.
"...Not... just one..."
Hades muttered miserably.
"And it had Fulgrim's face."
A crack seemed to appear in the Emperor's normally dignified expression.
"Let's change the subject."
The Master of Mankind rarely spoke, but this time he did.
"You should be grateful you didn't possess a fixed form."
Hades made a noise that sounded as though he wished for death and immediately resumed dry-heaving into the toilet.
"I'd rather go eat crap in Nurgle's Garden," Hades said this with complete resignation.
At least there, he knew exactly what he was dealing with.
As for the things that existed within Slaanesh's Six Rings...
That was another matter entirely.
He bent over the toilet and retched again.
Only now did he finally understand why people called him "the Merciful One."
Because he would eat literally any kind of garbage, apparently.
Still vomiting, Hades suddenly understood why the Emperor had always been so determined to discourage humanity from praying to him.
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