Valen wavered.
What was wrong with using those dark powers to serve the Primarch again, to pledge allegiance to the Emperor once more?
Valen caressed his bionic wrist; the cold touch cleared his mind and allowed him to think more comprehensively.
He had lost his arm in the war when the tyranids invaded the Ultramar sector.
A cunning genestealer had infiltrated the planet Pharos.
It attempted to guide their filthy race to this planet to harvest biomass.
To appease the people's fear, Valen personally led a team to hunt down that disgusting xenos and the traitors it had corrupted.
It was a terrifying creature; human bodies were like weeds before it, easily severed.
Valen's arm was also cut off by the dying monster's struggle.
After that incident, a tech-priest installed a bionic prosthesis for him, allowing him to continue serving the great Emperor.
"My lord, power is not inherently evil. This is a ritual of equivalent exchange. Are you unwilling to make a small sacrifice for your people? The Primarch has so many enemies; those corrupt nobles are constantly watching him, trying to stop his reforms."
"Terra is hostile to him, the Adeptus Mechanicus is dissatisfied with him, and the conservative faction of the Ecclesiarchy considers him blasphemous. The Primarch is so outnumbered and desperately needs the help of every loyalist, and yet you are unwilling to help him?"
The merchant's persuasive words, question after question, left Valen unable to respond.
A simple sorcery ritual could help him continue serving the Imperium and fighting for the Primarch's reform cause.
For this great purpose, what did a small sacrifice matter?
"This is a book recording the sorcery, my lord. You can keep it as a collection."
The merchant offered the coverless book with both hands.
Valen felt a sense of disgust, and a voice inside him told him that he should not touch such things.
Chaos was deceitful; their promises were always false and not to be trusted.
Yet, he inexplicably took it.
"I am only doing this to serve the Emperor better and the Primarch better. As long as the final outcome is good, what do a few mistakes in the process matter?"
Valen constantly soothed his inner self.
Doing this was not wrong.
Loyalty was not wrong.
Yes, for loyalty, for a greater cause, a small sacrifice was worth it.
"You may leave."
Valen caressed the coverless book and said to the merchant.
"Yes, my lord."
The merchant bowed respectfully and walked out.
Leaving the grand planetary governor's mansion, the merchant got into his hovercar and went to a large building with few people.
It was a very secret building.
Ordinary people didn't know much about it, only that they often saw a group of robed believers holding Emperor shrines and various scriptures.
It looked like a small group gathered by faith in the Emperor was active there.
However, it was not that simple.
If someone accidentally found a secret passage and entered the unknown underground chamber, they would surely scream in terror at the horrors within.
The eight-pointed star of Chaos, absolutely forbidden by the Inquisition and the Ecclesiarchy, was carved on every wall of the chamber.
Some slaves, covered in scars and with vacant eyes from torture, were forced to kneel in iron cages, whipped by Chaos cultists with thorned whips or subjected to various inhuman tortures.
They used the suffering of these slaves to please the Chaos Gods, proving their devout faith.
These slaves were missing persons from various cities on Pharos.
The Arbites had investigated many times but couldn't find anything.
They never expected that all these missing people had been abducted here and subjected to evil rituals and heinous torture by these cultists.
After entering here, the merchant also changed into a robe.
Led by several believers holding incense, he entered the underground chamber.
He prayed to the nine eight-pointed stars drawn with blood.
And on the altar, a sacrifice ritual was proceeding in an orderly manner.
"Please, let me go."
The woman, covered in bloodstains and on the verge of a mental breakdown from torture, pleaded with the man who was dragging her across the floor by her hair.
"Offering life to the gods is a gift."
The man in the robe took out a sharp small knife, held the woman's head, and slit her throat.
Just like slaughtering a chicken.
She tried to cover the wound, but blood flowed from between her fingers.
The man threw the twitching woman onto the altar, letting her blood flow into the already carved runic patterns.
The woman's death was extremely painful; the man had perfectly mastered the art of killing.
Ensuring she would die, but not too quickly.
Her suffering continued until the prayer ended, only then ceasing.
The ritual concluded.
An elder with the eight-pointed star of Chaos carved on his face walked up to the merchant.
"How is the plan progressing?"
"It's perfect. He has already accepted our gift."
The merchant said respectfully.
"Very good."
The elder showed a hint of a smile, then turned to look at the other believers, "A great divine revelation will descend, allowing us to break free from the Corpse-Emperor's control and truly embrace the gods."
The other believers also showed joy and praised the gods.
The elder looked at everyone's performance, very satisfied. He looked at the merchant again.
"Continue to monitor and find a way for him to perform the ritual as soon as possible. We will eventually overthrow the Corpse-Emperor's rule and lead humanity to new life under the glory of the gods."
"I will, Elder. To overthrow the Corpse-Emperor and usher in the era of the gods has always been my dream."
The elder patted the merchant's shoulder, "Very good. Now go and continue completing this task."
Standing on a high balcony of the governor's mansion, Valen overlooked the entire city.
The city was prosperous, and people's faces were filled with happy smiles.
After observing the city, Valen looked towards the distance, to the northeast, towards the interior. There was a towering steel mountain range that reached into the clouds.
There were a large number of spaceships entering and leaving.
That magnificent mountain range, it was said, was the Lighthouse.
In the past, the Novamarines Chapter was responsible for guarding it, and now there were even more guards.
It was heavily guarded, and no one else was allowed to approach.
Valen knew what was there, a lighthouse, a warp lighthouse that could operate without the Emperor's power.
The Great Rift had split the galaxy, and it was said that the light of the Astronomican could no longer penetrate the rift and reach the other side of the Imperium.
The Imperial worlds on that side had lost the guidance of the Astronomican and could only grope forward in the chaotic warp; the situation was extremely critical.
And the Primarch hoped to use this lighthouse to solve this problem, to establish a brand new lighthouse in the Imperium Nihilus to help Imperial fleets navigate.
The Imperium needed every loyalist to cooperate sincerely; only then could human civilization continue to survive in this cold, cruel universe.
"I can do more."
Valen said to himself in his heart.
He had made up his mind.
To use that small sorcery to prolong his life.
"Yark."
Valen loudly called out to a servant he had recently recruited.
"My lord, do you have any orders?"
A young man wearing servant's clothes and with a handsome appearance quickly walked in.
His eyes were clear and pure, like a pair of gems.
His gaze showed respect and admiration for Valen.
"Do you believe in me, Yark?"
Valen looked at Yark and asked.
"Of course, my lord, that is beyond doubt. You have brought over two centuries of prosperity and well-being to Pharos."
Yark's tone was very sincere, without any falsehood.
"I want to ask you a question. If you could make a small sacrifice to allow me to continue protecting Pharos, would you?"
Valen asked.
"My lord, are you joking?"
Yark asked with a smile.
"What is your answer?"
"Of course, my lord. As long as it allows you to continue protecting Pharos, I am willing to sacrifice everything."
"Since that is the case, come with me, Yark."
The power of the daemon Primarchs was terrifying.
Especially those who had mastered psyker abilities.
Their destructive power was even more astonishing.
The entire world had been turned into hell under Magnus' terrifying spells.
The once prosperous hive city was now dilapidated, with corpses everywhere.
Countless daemons roamed within, preying on the surviving humans.
Twisted daemonic plants grew on the ground, drawing strength from the painful souls of the dead.
Magnus sat on a throne made of corpses.
Through the sacrifice rituals of those poor fools, he saw the planetary governor accept the merchant's book.
Soon, he would directly descend upon Pharos and sabotage his brother's plan from within.
A perfect plan.
"Guilliman will never know that the loyalist in his eyes will become the sharp blade in my hand, plunging deeply into his heart and rendering all his plans futile."
Magnus' laughter was full of triumph.
Praise the great Lord of Change.