Chapter 110 I Am The Man Who Will Become The King Of Monster

“Let’s get moving, then. Next stop, the Black Library.”

Vane didn’t want to waste any more time. His overall progression in the Warhammer universe had already hit forty percent. A little more grinding, and he’d have this place fully cleared. After that, he planned to head back to the Minecraft universe, kick back and relax for a couple of days, and then set off for the Ultraman universe.

My name is Vane, and I am the man who will become the King of Monsters.

“As you wish, Traveler,” Cegorach nodded.

After explaining the situation to the exhibition hall’s manager, the Dawn’s Hope Troupe canceled the rest of their scheduled performances. They fully intended to leave with Vane and join the search for the Black Library.

“Father, are you truly abandoning me?!”

“Please, I’m begging you! I finally understand my mistakes!”

Locked inside his cage, Magnus watched the Emperor actually preparing to walk away. He cried out in absolute despair, desperately hoping to invoke even a shred of fatherly love.

The Emperor didn’t so much as cast a backward glance at his son, his strides firm and resolute as he stepped into the portal. If it hadn’t been for the Traveler’s sudden arrival, he would have genuinely been screwed over by Magnus and left to rot on the Golden Throne. People like Magnus never actually realized they were wrong; they just realized they were scared.

“What a pitiful guy. Don’t worry, you won’t be lonely for too long!” Vane shouted right before stepping through the portal. “I’ll go round up all your brothers and lock them in there with you! That way, it won’t feel so embarrassing!”

Magnus instinctively wanted to scream curses back at him, but the moment he remembered what this guy was capable of, he completely chickened out. Once Vane was gone, a dark part of Magnus actually started looking forward to the guy keeping his promise. Yeah, go catch the rest of my brothers and toss them in here with me.

A few moments later, he went right back to bitterly resenting the Emperor for not saving him. He totally could have saved me, but he didn’t. He definitely just wanted to trick me into sitting on that damn Golden Throne in the first place.

—

Guided by Cegorach, the fleet set sail immediately after everyone returned to the ships. They entered the Webway through the Macragge system’s gate and made a beeline for the Black Library.

This journey was noticeably more dangerous than their previous trips. They passed through numerous fractured Webway tunnels that had been hopelessly corrupted by the Warp and claimed as territories by Chaos Daemons. If someone were to blindly stumble into these zones without a clue, it would be a guaranteed one-way ticket to hell.

However, thanks to Vane and the Emperor’s infamous reputations spreading like wildfire throughout the Immaterium, the fleet’s voyage went incredibly smoothly. Everyone had braced themselves for a few grueling battles, but absolutely nothing happened. It was a peaceful cruise all the way through.

The moment the Chaos Daemons sensed the auras of those two, they instinctively scattered, terrified of drawing the attention of these absolute menaces. One had the power to literally permanently delete them, and the other treated daemons like farmable crafting materials. Each was more ruthlessly terrifying than the last. These daemons were just average, blue-collar Warp citizens—they just wanted to harvest a few souls, provide for their daemon wives and kids, and live a nice, cozy life. None of them had the guts to provoke absolute psychos like these two.

Even with all the daemons giving them a wide berth, the fleet still ran into a minor hiccup on their way to the Black Library.

They stumbled right into Ahzek Ahriman, the Chief Sorcerer of the Thousand Sons, who was currently leading a warband of his legionnaires in hot pursuit of a Harlequin Troupe known as the Sunset Reflection.

Ahriman was trying to squeeze the exact coordinates of the Black Library out of these Harlequins. Naturally, it was a completely futile effort. The Black Library possessed a will of its own and constantly shifted its location. Without Cegorach’s direct guidance, not even the Emperor or the four Chaos Gods could track it down. If it were actually possible to just beat the Black Library’s location out of a Harlequin, Slaanesh would have dragged Cegorach back home as a midnight snack ages ago.

Considering the Aeldari were current allies of the Imperium of Man, Vane and the others obviously couldn’t just sit back and watch the Sunset Reflection Troupe get slaughtered.

“Capture that idiot Ahriman. Ship him back to Macragge and throw him in the same cage as that one-eyed Ogryn,” Vane ordered, initiating a strike against the Thousand Sons traitors to save the hunted Harlequins.

“Clown God, was bumping into the Thousand Sons really just an accident?” After issuing the combat orders, Vane turned to look at Cegorach. “Because I’ve got this sneaking suspicion you purposely led us here just to deal with Ahriman.”

“I assure you, it was entirely an accident,” Cegorach promised solemnly. “There was absolutely no human element involved.”

Listening to Cegorach’s excuse, Vane was utterly speechless. You’re a god, not a human. Obviously there’s no ‘human’ element involved, you slick bastard.

Vane fired off a few more sarcastic remarks before tossing the matter aside. He and the Emperor deployed directly onto the battlefield to deal with Ahriman.

—

“Where the hell did the Corpse Emperor’s lapdogs come from?”

Ahriman stared at the Imperial forces that had suddenly crashed the party. He was stunned for a few seconds before an uncontrollable surge of rage took over. He had spent an insane amount of time and energy cornering this Harlequin Troupe, fully preparing to capture them alive. The sudden appearance of Imperial troops had completely trashed his grand strategy.

“Since you stand in my way, you can die right alongside these clowns.”

Ahriman hoisted his staff, channeling his psychic might as he chanted an ancient incantation, tearing open a massive demonic portal. Bloodthirsty daemons let out ravenous roars as they poured through the rift, ready to unleash an absolute massacre on the battlefield.

Right at that moment, a massive pillar of teleportation light slammed into the dirt. Vane and the Emperor, flanked by Custodes and Harlequins, stepped into the fray.

Seeing the Evil Outer God and the Anathema in the flesh, the roaring daemons instantly shut their mouths. One by one, they whipped around and scrambled right back through the portal as fast as their legs could carry them. The very last daemon in the retreat even made sure to politely close the portal shut behind him, completely terrified that these two walking natural disasters might try to follow them home.

Ahriman, who had been feeling incredibly smug just a second ago, watched this unfold with his jaw on the floor.

What the hell? Are daemons really this cowardly nowadays? They actually learned how to retreat and close the damn door behind them?!

“Forget it, I’m out of here too.”

Ahriman immediately tried to cast a teleportation spell to bail from the battlefield, but the Emperor was faster. Big E instantly slammed shut the psychic transit route.

BOOM!

The teleportation failed, and the violent psychic backlash blasted Ahriman right off his feet. By the time he scrambled back up, covered in dirt and ash, he found the golden blades of the Custodes and the power weapons of the Harlequins already pressed flush against his neck. One wrong twitch, and his head would hit the floor before they hacked the rest of him to pieces.

The remaining Rubric Marines and Thousand Sons Sorcerers were no match for the combined might of the Imperial forces and the Harlequins. They quickly crumbled—either outright destroyed or taken as prisoners.

Vane bent down and scooped up a handful of glowing dust left behind by a shattered Rubric Marine. He walked right up to Ahriman.

“Hey Ahriman, look over here.”

When Ahriman glared up at him, Vane opened his palm and gave it a light puff. The glowing ash scattered into the wind.

“Look, your brothers are floating away.”

“You bastard! I’ll kill you!” Ahriman roared, the veins on his forehead bulging in pure, unadulterated fury.

“Aw, are you triggered already?” Vane mocked. “There’s more.” Vane scooped up another handful of dust and blew it into the air, sending the glowing ash floating all over the place. “Look, your brothers are floating everywhere!”

“Ahriman, can you hear their cries?” Vane cupped a hand to his ear. “They’re all shouting, ‘Ahriman, oh Ahriman, your Rubric spell is so amazing, but why am I floating in the wind?!’ “

Ahriman was so insanely pissed his eyes looked ready to burst from their sockets. The other captive Thousand Sons Sorcerers were also driven completely mad with rage. Unfortunately for them, they were pinned down tight and couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

Seeing their absolute meltdown, Vane just laughed even louder. The rest of the imperial group couldn’t hold it in either, busting into fits of laughter. For a moment, the air was actually filled with a joyous, cheerful atmosphere.

Cegorach was the only one who remained dead silent.

I don’t deserve the title of God of Mischief!

He looked at Vane in sheer awe. With just a few casual sentences, this guy had cracked such a dark, hellish joke that he had his allies roaring with laughter and his enemies experiencing complete mental breakdowns. Meanwhile, Cegorach was just standing there watching, feeling like an incompetent amateur.