29. Bloodshed without purpose

Blood kept flowing.

The Grand Master of the Eighth Brotherhood of Grey Knights thus knew that he was about to die.

His senses were failing; his vision was blurry, and his sense of smell and hearing were gone. But he could still feel a cold wind blowing from not far away, which was not a good thing, because the wind was filled with filthy evil energy, stinging his last remaining sense...

He knew perfectly well that the main bridge of the Hope of Correl had been contaminated, and this battle-hardened naval warship would forever lose its glory. Therefore, if the wolves sank it directly instead of boarding, it would actually be a good thing. But based on his understanding of the Fenris, this was impossible; they would definitely board the ship.

The son of Ruth would not allow the chief villain to die easily in a naval battle.

But this won't work; it won't bring good results. The main bridge of the Hope of Corell has been completely taken over by the Chaos Evil.

Starting from there, the ship is gradually sliding towards the opposite of rationality. When the wolves board the ship, it will probably become a demonic realm, and they will inevitably encounter the same dangers as him... Slowed-down time, inverted and displaced space, omnipresent traps and deadly illusions.

The demons of the Lord of Change have far too many means of killing, and will never be as direct as the Blood God's demon army, making the fight against them a puzzle with no single right answer. Although the wolves also have their own think tank, Joros doesn't believe they can outdo him in this regard.

"I can't let them board the ship," the dying Grey Knight thought. "I must—"

"Nothing is absolutely necessary," a voice said.

A wet, scaled, and feathered hand reached out from the eerie illusion and vanished before Jolos's eyes.

His vision miraculously returned slightly, and he saw a curtain of fire burning silently. It was his masterpiece, which he used in his last moments before falling to envelop the demonic tide that filled the bridge. The dreadful demons split within it, the fire demons were harmed in return, and the manipulated mortal crew members also perished.

Their bodies didn't even have a chance to burn; just a little bit of it was enough to turn them completely to ashes.

This massacre was the last thing he saw before he fell, and he preferred the ashes he saw now to the sight of it all.

"That's natural, you've always known only killing..." the demon chuckled. "But, those who wield the sword will surely die by its blade—such an ancient and classic proverb, don't you know it?"

Joros didn't even bother to answer it.

He glanced at the feathered creature once before turning his head away, focusing intently on finding Guiseme Kisnaros. In just two short hours since the ground of Amighiddon had separated, the Inquisitor had gone from a flawless soul to a puppet of chaos; something must have happened that he was unaware of.

Jolos tries to uncover the conspiracy behind this.

"And then?" the demon asked in surprise. "You're about to die, Grand Master Joros. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't even have a chance to think right now."

He still ignored it—he knew it was right, and this meant his mind had been invaded, leaving him with no secrets. It would use his memories to do even more terrible things, but he didn't care. Joros gathered his last remaining psychic energy, scattered it around him, and then penetrated deeper...

The chaotic demonic realm, which should have corrupted his will, remained completely unmoved. Undoubtedly, this was once again the work of that demon; it was curious, wanting to know just how far he was capable.

The Grey Knight smiled.

Countless delirious visions swept over him with his psychic powers, and he instinctively chose one of them: an old grandfather laughing maniacally. He knelt naked in a wasteland, his eyes as black as coal. He held an infant's leg in each hand, then lifted them high above his head and slammed them heavily to the ground.

After two wet, muffled thuds, an older grandmother stretched out her thin, withered fingers, dipped them in blood and mud, and kneaded and flattened them in the rapidly approaching downpour, turning them into blood and mud cakes, which she fed to eighty-one pale and emaciated slaves.

They ate it with satisfaction, then merged into one, transforming into a silvery liquid that seeped into the ground amidst blue flames. Many years later, someone mined it as ore and transported it to a factory. Several years later, it, along with other metals, formed the keel of a ship.

The Hope of Correll.

Joros closed his eyes and realized that this was actually a conspiracy that had been planned long ago.

The Lord of All Changes and every demon lord under His command possess this ability, which is why they are so pervasive and extremely difficult to deal with...

This one was no exception; it had calculated many things accurately, such as the Allied forces' need to shorten their assembly time due to the urgency of the situation, and its emphasis on discipline.

The former meant he and Gesme had almost no communication along the way, so they couldn't board the ship and therefore couldn't detect it beforehand; the latter was his own fault. Hyperion's overstepping of authority was unacceptable to him, so he refused the other members of Castiel's squad's request to serve as his attendants, intending to punish them temporarily so they would understand that the honor of the chapter must be maintained collectively, and if one person makes a mistake and they don't stop him, then they are making the same mistake.

He didn't think he was being biased; after all, it was a fact that Hyperion had bypassed him and was having an affair with Judge Annika, and it was also a fact that his teammates hadn't stopped him.

They let things happen, so why can they stand aside?

"Then why didn't you bring other people? Like the veterans?"

The demon laughed and asked a foolish question, deliberately trying to provoke him, but Joros didn't even bother to answer.

Who would bring four fully armed veterans with them when going to see a volatile judge who has just suffered a serious setback?

Realizing this, the demon seemed to have grown tired of playing around. It reached out its claws, grabbed his head, and forced him to open his eyes again.

The Lord Inquisitor stood before him, his expression blank, but his eyes were brimming with tears. His hands gripped the rose knot and the data board tightly, the latter flashing with light as data streamed through it.

He had a little left. Joros thought with a mixture of pity and disgust.

"Hey, don't fight amongst yourselves. You two are perfect tools," the demon declared smugly. "Let's start with you, esteemed Grand Master. You shouldn't have taken on this heavy responsibility. You know that yourself. If the previous Grand Master hadn't died in battle, and if you hadn't desperately needed a successor, you, the champion, probably would never have been chosen."

"Unfortunately, you're not very smart. Smart people know their strengths and know how to play to their strengths and avoid their weaknesses, just like me. But you clearly have no political experience, yet you still think you can achieve something... Who would punish a new member of the chapter like you, especially a very talented one? You're really foolish."

"And you, Lord Inquisitor, you're even more foolish. You're nothing but a piece of trash who's good at purges and small-scale expeditions. After being promoted based on seniority and merit, you actually think you can command such a large-scale joint operation? Look at what you've done. If you were an Inquisitor from the Holy Hammer Order, you would have left without hesitation after hearing the conclusion from the Grey Knights, instead of letting me stir up your doubts with just a few words."

At this point, it couldn't help but burst into laughter, as if it had already won a victory. Joros, however, paid it no heed; his thoughts were entirely focused on gathering his last bit of strength. The demon had allowed this, and it remained curious, wanting to know what he would do in his final moments before death...

But it was still disappointed, because the Grey Knight had only used his meager amount of psionic energy to attack Gaithme, trying to kill him.

What's the point? Even in death, he remains its puppet.

It raised its claws and crushed Jolos's body to pieces, then quietly departed with the Inquisitor, waiting on the fourth gun deck of the Hope of Corell. It couldn't be wrong; judging from the trajectories of the boarding torpedoes hurtling through the void, they would crash into this deck in two minutes.

It will manipulate the pitiful and hateful Guiseme Kisnaros to appear, and they will inevitably shoot him as soon as they see him. That will be its moment.

Is it true?

Unbeknownst to the demon, the data panel in Gesmay Kisnaros's hand had been switched to another page at some point in time.

It ended precisely in two minutes.

Amidst massive flames and explosions, Fenris's assassins, consumed by rage, leaped from their boarding torpedoes and began slaughtering the crew and Imperial Navy personnel who were unaware of the truth and were simply fulfilling their duties.

The demon deliberately refrained from manipulating them, even intentionally limiting its contamination to the main bridge, all to make the final revelation of the truth more amusing. It imagined the wolves' expressions upon learning the truth and couldn't help but chuckle softly in the darkness...

But it soon stopped laughing because it couldn't see its target.

That thing isn't here.

The demon was inevitably puzzled, but that didn't matter, because Logan Grimner was there. His value was slightly lower, but it was still enough to be considered an achievement for it.

It waited patiently, quietly setting up numerous traps. The wolf pack's slaughter ended in a mere half-minute; none of the stormtroopers, crew, or naval commandos survived. The blood of these innocent men stained the deck, which delighted it.

It couldn't remember the last time it had done something like this—it preferred the spectacle of humans killing each other to directly orchestrating a conspiracy that would bring about a demonic tide, especially when both sides were actually loyal to the cursed one...

it's time.

Suppressing its laughter and anticipation, it manipulated the Lord Inquisitor out of the darkness, who then politely greeted Logan Grimner.

"Hello, Alpha Wolf," it said, borrowing his voice, savoring every flicker of anger, fear, and regret in his mind. "We meet again."

Logan Grimner looked over with utter calm, the pack of wolves waiting behind him, their fangs grimacing, their killing intent barely contained.

It decided to add fuel to the fire. The angrier they were now, the more it would laugh later.

"You should have killed me while you still had the chance," it continued. "But you didn't, which is...foolish. Did you really think I would let you degenerate and associate with a demon? Perhaps you can be that shameless, but I won't. I will cleanse you so that the honor of Leman Ruth won't be tarnished by you."

It delivered the insult in Gesme's tone with utmost care, perfectly in line with the judges' usual style. But for some reason, these words had no effect on Logan Grimner himself, except to further agitate the wolves—he remained standing there coldly, sniffing something, yet he hesitated to raise the blood-stained giant axe in his hand.

What's going on? The demon was puzzled, and at that moment, it felt a tremor in the mind of Gasme Kisnaros. It was a mixture of emotions, but the most prominent one was relief.

"I know I'm wrong and I'll correct it," Logan Grimner suddenly said, then he roared something in another language, a language that Kisnaros didn't understand.

The wolf pack dispersed, and a wolf covered in runes and ornaments emerged, its eyes glowing with psychic energy like two points of cold, eerie blue fire.

A bolt of psionic lightning erupted from his mind, piercing the demon like a steel blade, forcing it to reveal itself with a shriek. The wolf pack immediately opened fire, bombs raining down, and Logan Grimner charged forward, severing one of its wings with a weapon that should never have been wielded by a human.

A burst of brilliant blood gushed out, and the demon angrily swung its claws to repel the alpha wolf. Then, it swung its last remaining wing, unleashing its power without reservation. In the moment of stillness, it saw the data tablet fly out of the hand of Guiseme Kisnaros, who had fallen after being hit by the bomb.

It has switched to another page, where three words are flashing.

Demon. Kill me.

The Demon Lord of Myriad Changes instantly thought of the deceased Grand Mentor Gray Knight.

A smokescreen? A smokescreen?!

It laughed in exasperation, never expecting that it would be forced to reveal itself prematurely by such a low-level scheme.

But after the laughter subsided, it felt a surge of joy. This unexpected change instantly turned its anger into delight, and it immediately decided to disappear into the darkness to find another puppet—anyone would do—but it would deliberately reappear once or twice, forcing the wolf pack to empty the entire ship, and even the entire Inquisition fleet...

It turned around, preparing to disappear into the darkness, only to find a person standing before the gate between the realm of illusion and reality.

His eyes shone like two torches.

"You," he said. "I will kill you."