Chapter 1441 - 612: Slaanesh and Tzeentch’s Collaboration (3)

Chapter 1441: Chapter 612: Slaanesh and Tzeentch’s Collaboration (3)

But the massacre of the von Slek family has alarmed Werner, who is lurking in Brunswick. He is already prepared; after tonight, he will set off immediately tomorrow to return to Nuer, to the headquarters of the Association of Pleasure Seekers.

The dim candlelight flickered unsteadily in the dark room as Werner looked at the document in his hand.

This document was sent from Middenheim, and on the surface, it seemed fine, appearing to be a military supply report.

But when Werner applied a pink-purple potion onto the document, a dark purple handprint appeared on it.

The largest Tzeentch Cult in the Empire, the Dark Purple Hand, is collaborating with the Association of Pleasure Seekers.

Using the Deceitful Young Master granted by Tzeentch, they have already created several identical "boys" just like Little Frederick. If they can find an opportunity to replace the real Little Frederick, not even Laine and the others will notice in the short term.

This is the will of Tzeentch and Slaanesh. In facing this issue, the Evil God has reached a consensus, and to deal with Laine, to destroy him, the two cults plan to temporarily put aside their differences and reach a consensus.

This is the "Masquerade Ball Plan."

Werner frowned deeply; if he had a choice, he really didn’t want to cooperate with the Tzeentch Cult, but the incident with the von Slek family made him realize that perhaps the Association of Pleasure Seekers alone couldn’t complete the task.

After reading the document for a while, Werner, feeling the strain on his eyes from the candlelight, suddenly heard a faint thud downstairs.

The Baron shivered and thought, why haven’t those people arrived yet: "Is anyone there? Gael? Are you there?"

"..." In the quiet winter night, only the sound of the wind remained.

"Gael?" Werner’s face changed slightly. He stood up cautiously, immediately tore the document to pieces, then set it on fire, blew out the candle, and began to walk step-by-step toward the door.

The deep, dark corridor was filled with depth and imagination. With his leather shoes creaking on the floorboards, the Baron hugged the wall, stealthily approaching the stairs.

Four fingers gripped the banister as Werner carefully peered from the second-floor landing toward the first floor: "?"

The scene before his eyes made his heart clench, his blood rushing faster through his veins, and his head nearly exploded.

All the guards on the first floor, along with several Slaanesh Cultists, lay in pools of blood, each killed with a single blow. The only differences were that some had their throats pierced, while others were cut into pieces or stabbed through the heart.

"Ugh! Ughh! Aaaah!" The Baron’s eyes teared up as he desperately covered his mouth, trying to suppress any sound. He dropped to the ground, crawling on all fours to flee back to his room. In sheer terror, Werner frantically locked the door, grabbed his suitcase, took out a short Fire Cannon, unlocked the safety, and hid in front of the desk, clutching the gun’s grip as if it would bring him a sense of safety.

"Who?! Who’s there?"

A shadow emerged from behind Werner, descending from the ceiling. Before Werner had time to react, a purple glow flashed through the room, and in the midst of a scream, the short Fire Cannon dropped to the ground: "Pa~"

A purple Butterfly Dagger pressed against the Baron’s throat, followed by a sweet yet chilling voice full of malice.

"Good evening, sir."

"Could I trouble you for a glimpse of your soul?"