Feudal world, San Pedro, the King's Palace.
The "Pleasure," Maria Kournikova, elegantly sipped her wine, her eyes sparkling.
"Smooth and mellow, with a lingering finish."
She had long since grown accustomed to the transition from a shadowy "Assassin" to a socialite moving in aristocratic circles. She had sampled countless wines, and this one was not particularly exceptional.
The full-fledged "Witch" offered the compliment because, over fifteen banquets, she had discerned King Pep's preferences.
The sixty-four-year-old king reveled in the praise he felt he had earned after a long struggle to secure his rule.
King Pep, in his fine silks, crown, and golden scepter, smiled.
"Lady Kournikova, this is a vintage I laid down myself forty-two years ago."
"I said then that I would only open it after I had become King of San Pedro and the Imperial Planetary Governor."
"Congratulations on achieving your ambition," Maria said, her red lips parting.
"The crown is rightfully yours."
"I wonder if I might have the honor of hearing the glorious story of your ascent?" Maria steered the conversation. According to her intelligence, Pep's rise to power had been aided by the Bone Drinkers.
Her time was running out. The grey fleet of the Space Wolves was heading for this world.
Though the Emperor had assigned the Bone Drinkers to the Black Emperor, the Space Wolves had not withdrawn like the Night Lords. They had not abandoned the hunt.
Maria knew that when they arrived, their punishment would be to burn this world to ashes.
Though Pep and his officials had offered sacrifices to the xenos, the serfs did not deserve to be slaughtered.
They were no different from the people of most worlds that had joined the Imperium. They didn't even know of the Emperor or the Imperium.
They worked as they had for centuries, paying taxes to their king.
The Imperial Planetary Governor, the king, as long as he submitted to the Imperium and followed the orders of the Regent's officials, was no different from any other king in history.
A mysterious smile crossed King Pep's face. "Lady Kournikova, I was able to set things right thanks to the help of the Apostles."
"We dedicated ourselves to their great cause, and they brought judgment upon the usurper."
'Your 'dedication' was sacrifice.' Maria thought coldly, her face beaming, her blue eyes sparkling.
"I wonder if I might have the honor of meeting an Apostle?"
"Of course." Pep looked at the woman with her fair, delicate skin and supple waist.
"The Apostles are always willing to grant revelation and aid to others. But to see them, you must bring your servants."
"You must have brought tens of thousands of servants, I presume?" He was thinking of the voidship in orbit.
"Certainly. It would be my honor. I will bring them to meet the Apostles."
Two standard hours later, ten cars, spewing black smoke, rumbled out of the royal city, heading for the valley outside.
Inside the gold-painted car, Pep glanced at the dashboard. Five hundred meters to the valley mouth.
He turned to the tempting figure beside him. "We're almost there. Where are your servants?"
The "Pleasure," Maria, tossed her hair, activating her psychic vision to see the dense lights filling the valley.
Her pale fingers tapped the comm-bead in her ear, then pointed towards the sky.
"They're already here."
A fire kindled in Pep's eyes. He gripped his golden scepter.
'Your servants will be their food. You will be the plaything in my bed. Your ship and your wealth will be mine...' Pep suddenly shivered. He was about to tell the driver to turn up the heat when white frost flashed in his eyes.
Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!
Three ice crystals pierced the heads of the king, the driver, and the attendant.
Blood dripped onto the frost-covered seats and the floor.
Thump!
The car door closed softly. Its wheels, too, were caught in the "Pleasure's" "Blessing of Ice and Frost."
Behind her, frost and black flames rose as the "Witches" silently dealt with the rest of the convoy.
Maria looked skyward. The black transports had opened their bays, dropping their cargo.
Ovigors, suspended by airbags, slammed into the valley floor.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh...
Tufts of fluff-covered polymers shot up from the ground, growing in an instant to towers taller than Kournikova's own spire in Vostroya's Paradigm city.
Maria pressed her comm-bead. "Send word to Lord William. The xenos on San Pedro have been dealt with."
At the same moment, on the Feral World of Milton.
William Wood, Lord of the Twelfth Chapter, walked ahead of the local barbarians.
The "Marionettist" was not accompanied by his Farseer puppet; she had been commanded to take root in crystalline form within the divination chamber of his flagship.
He was not wearing the new armor crafted by Armor Master Malevolus, based on the Cataphractii-pattern Terminator and the Yeld-pattern armor's growth and adaptive systems.
Since advancing to "Marionettist," the "Faceless's" "Shapeshifting" ability had improved considerably. By sacrificing a third of his size, he could reduce his height by one-tenth.
Even so, the "Marionettist," William, was still a head taller than the tallest man on this world, the barbarian chieftain, Vandenbergh.
A vision flashed through the full-fledged "Clown's" mind: the fluff on Vandenbergh's chest drifting, a single strand caught by the wind, falling onto his broad back.
As the fluff lifted, William quickened his left step.
Whoosh!
The strand brushed past him, falling to the ground, then swirling again, catching his trouser leg.
After three deflections, the Ak'Haireth settled reluctantly onto Vandenbergh's hairy foot.
"Haha, brother Wood, you ain't lyin' to me, are ya?" Vandenbergh heaved his bulk forward, muscles rippling.
"You're really gonna let us eat our fill?"
"Brother Vandenbergh, I would never deceive you." William's voice was booming. He had learned from the Chief Apothecary's message that the Bone Drinkers' intelligence and cognition derived from their hosts.
His observations suggested the Bone Drinkers on this world were not particularly intelligent.
The first wave of Bone Drinkers here had likely come from a world without advanced civilization.
Nevertheless, William played his part carefully. It was a habit of a full-fledged "Faceless."
Of course, he knew what the Bone Drinkers clustered on the barbarians really wanted, his bones.
"My chief told me the more brothers you bring, the more you'll eat."
"Have you gathered all the tribes?"
"Haha, I called all the brothers." The fluff on Vandenbergh's chest stirred, the Ak'Haireth around him drifting on the wind.
"Look, they're all here. Everyone in the world."
William looked around. Rows of barbarians, fluff drifting from their bodies, shambled towards them.
"Excellent." The full-fledged "Magician" raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
Crack!
The show began.
Fireworks burst overhead. Ovigors, draped in colorful ribbons, descended from the sky.
"A gift for you all. The food you crave."
"Enjoy!"
As William admired his performance, his belt-comm buzzed.
After listening to the vox-master's relayed report, he smiled and said, "Tell the Wolves, they're too late."
...
Aboard the Nidhogg, flagship of the 3rd Great Company of the Space Wolves, in the Wolf's Den.
Wolf Lord Ogvai Ogvai Helmschrot, hearing the words of Wolf Priest Najut Fuse-Lighter, his hand holding the Fenrisian mead, trembled slightly. All his pack's targets had been taken by the Shadows of Order.
Suppressing his anger, he looked at the young Blood Claw.
The Blood Claw's hair was tied back with a leather cord. His face was long and solemn, his angular features covered in intricate tattoos that made his nose and mouth protrude even more.
His snout was animalistic.
The Remembrancer, Kasper Ansbach Hawser
, founder of the Conservatory Project academic institution, called him by the Gothic translation of his name: Bear.
In the Fenrisian tongue, his name was Bjorn.
"Bjorn, what have you found?"
"What of those ships that passed through worlds infested with the Bone Drinkers? You tracked them. What did you discover?"
Bjorn felt the pack's eyes on him. They were also prey.
Though not as valuable as the worlds the Shadows of Order had cleansed of xenos, they were still a worthy prize.
"Wolf Lord, they were dealt with by the Shadows of Order. By strange means."
"What means? Their warlock tricks?" asked the Rune Priest, his Fenrisian name Ulfir Hjorr.
"I'm not sure." Bjorn spoke his mind.
"They supplied the ships with a popular cargo. A type of livestock, the Ovigor."
"The Bone Drinkers' attacks caused a severe food shortage. The Ovigor were in high demand."
Bjorn's face was filled with confusion. "Some of the Ovigor simply vanished. I checked the cargo manifests and transfer records of five ships. They vanished into thin air."
"I interrogated the captains, the freight supervisors, and all related personnel on two ships. I found no explanation."
"Sorcery."
Bjorn looked at the confident Ulfir, frowning.
'Did the Shadows of Order really do all this through sorcery?'
As Bjorn pondered, in the Chukwunonso system.
Aboard the armed transport Fire of Vostroya.
Tierney watched barge after barge descend. The "Swindlers" directed the "Marauder" in loading the Bone Drinkers the Black Emperor required into the cargo holds.
The "Swindlers," using "Thought Misdirection" and "Mental Disruption e," had successfully confused the various voidship captains, making them unknowingly transport the Ovigor.
After the Bone Drinkers aboard the ships were drawn out, they led the "Marauder" in subtly moving them, then slipped away at the port.
Tierney stared at the orbs of varying sizes, thinking to himself.
'It is time to make the offering to my Lord.'
As Tierney prepared the offering ritual, in the fourth layer of the Kingdom of Disorder, Nareth had already received the first batch of Ak'Haireth offered by the Tenth Chapter.
He looked at their spiritual luster. "Definitely potion ingredients."
"I wonder which pathway? The Moon Pathway's Sequence 4 'Shaman King' or the 'Mother' pathway's Sequence 4 'Classical Alchemist'?"
"And how much is needed per dose? Surely not a bucket or a vat."
As he pondered, he sent them to the seventh layer, where threads of rules coiled around them.
He moved his mind, touching the "Scarlet Scholar's" spiritual orb.
"Mikael has reached Terra."
....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
[email protected]/DaoistJinzu