B2 Chapter 16
The maul swept low, shattering a priest's knees. Angar stepped forward to get at the rest of the group, his cybernetic foot crushed the head on his way past, ending the priest's screams.
To goad the others into putting up a fight and attacking, he was avoiding using Abilities, feigning struggle against the group he now faced.
None used their own Abilities, which puzzled him. He crushed a man's skull with his gauntlet, then tossed the body aside.
Could the bracers block Abilities? He thought that was unlikely. He'd have heard of such tech. Probably. He'd still ask, as this was strange.
Another rushed, meeting his hammer, the man's torso splitting in a shower of gore, his entrails spilling across the floor.
Hidetada's nearly supernatural knack for reading his thoughts was infuriating, as if the Saint were a Psychic, though he wasn't. Or the etchings he'd seen of Saint Ash never showed a Psy Crystal, and tales never mentioned psionic abilities, at least.
Angar reasoned from Hidetada's perspective. The Saint knew he'd seen the three drones merge and transform.
He sidestepped a desperate official, smashing him, nearly destroying the whole body, sending more blood and guts coating the walls.
Medium-class ships like the Zephuros required a three-man bridge crew and two ship technici minimum.
During the battle against the Fallen's juggernaut, only Heith, the helmsman, and one ship technicus too injured to help were aboard.
His hammer caved in a man's skull, sending brains splattering as two new groups charged, their defiance welcomed.
The Zephuros defeated a heavy-class juggernaut with a dozen fighters. Majed was dead, and Stek piloted the shuttle. Who piloted the Zephuros' lone fighter?
He swung, bisecting a clergyman, splattering viscera over the prisoners behind.
Considering all that, it was easy to reason how Hidetada assumed Angar held suspicion of Heresy, but not why Angar no longer did.
But that was a small gap to bridge. The same reasoning also provided the answer as to how the Saint hadn't crossed the Heretical line.
His gauntlet crushed a man's skull again. He really enjoyed crushing heads like that. He smashed another's shoulder with his hammer, the arm dangling as the heretical traitor fell.
"I just thought it through," he told his chapter's grand marshal. "Do these bracers block the prisoners' Abilities?"
His maul swept wide at a group huddled together, shattering skulls and limbs in a spray of crimson, bodies tangling together in a dead heap. A few traitors charged him. He appreciated their futile courage.
He felt something in his core, like a twinge. He thought he may just have gained a level. If so, and he was far from certain, that meant he was barely getting XP for this, not if it took so many kills for only the 4% XP he had needed for level 38.
These were all people in positions important enough to bribe. He had hoped to get more experience for this.
"No," Hidetada replied. "We forced them to drain their own energy and shocked them when they meditated. Walk me through your reasoning."
Angar waded through the charging group, his maul swinging, crushing his foes, gore splashing his visor as horrific screams filled the air.
"You were crippled long after completing Tier seven, the peak," he said. "You Reset, choosing a rare and special Ferrumvita Class, enhanced by your Saint-realm offerings, allowing many different Machinilitis. They're all purchased, not crafted as usual. You control one at a time, or one grouping at a time for the drones, or a master console for the ship, your consciousness slipping between them."
He hammered a woman pleading on her knees, then smashed a man's face in, sending teeth and bone scattering. This whole area was turning into a real mess.
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"You don't cross the Heretical line," he continued. "Your special Class coupled with your great wealth just makes it seem so. The XP penalty for distance is moot to you. I don't know how you controlled the Zephuros and the fighter simultaneously. My guess is rapidly shifting your consciousness between the two."
His cybernetic foot crushed a priest's chest, and organs burst as another's skull met his gauntlet, splattering it.
Hidetada's mechanical voice grated through the comm. "Close enough. Try and hurry along. We're declaring martial law on Albion to purge its corrupt, a scourge to be burned in the Three's name. This system is in Orion's fringe, but close enough to the imperial core. They need a harsh reminder of the Holy Empire's intolerance.
"Nearby, Ierne, using the same Lumen Anchor, festers with identical rot. The peasants there are close to rising up and purging the unholy wretches that rule them. We'll beat them to it, lead the uprising, eradicating the Heresy and corruption, ensuring both worlds kneel, and well know their place."
Angar's fist flew out, punching another man through the chest, covering the remaining prisoners with more blood and guts, causing them to recoil, their grim cries falling on merciless ears.
If they were cracking down with purges on two planets, that'd take weeks minimum, so the rush to leave this had also been untrue. He wished Hidetada would stop feeding him false information.
As nothing else was said, he killed the rest of the Heretics in silence, discounting their pleas and screams.
Moments later, he slaughtered the final two with a single swing of his maul, their bodies crumpling together in a broken pile.
A faint twinge pulsed in his core. He may have gained another level, though he wasn't at all sure. If he did feel something, it was hard to tell what, as the sensation was fleeting, like a whisper of static.
He hoped the cage full of the powerful Heretics yielded a lot of XP. And a much worthier and honorable fight.
With a grimace, he flicked his hammer and armor, and blood and filth sloughed off.
As he went to pull up his screens to check his progress, Hidetada's voice cut through the private channel again. "I've been waiting for you to inform me that you've naturally manifested psychic potential."
Frustration flared in Angar's gut, curling hot and tight. There was absolutely no way the Saint could know that. "Are you monitoring my Annals somehow?" he demanded, his tone filled with suspicion.
"Simple deduction," Hidetada replied.
"Except there's no way to deduce that," Angar shot back.
"I find most Hierarchs far too arrogant and thickheaded," Hidetada said, his mechanical voice infuriatingly devoid of emotion. "I dislike having them in my crew, and much prefer capable wretches in the first Realm, those who'll appreciate the wealth I pour into them, obey without question or complaint, able to go where the pompous can't.
"So, why else would I have sworn Hierarch Rusak, the clergyman you saw earlier, into my crew as chaplain? He's to train you in the ways of the Psychic."
Angar waited silently, as that didn't answer his question.
A minute crawled by before the Saint finally answered. "Azgoth mastered the Mind Influence and Telepathic Insight chains, able to plant thoughts into your psyche. If he had succeeded, he wouldn't have killed you. You didn't resist with your radiant charm."
Angar mentally nodded. That made sense. It really had been simple deduction. But flawed, in two ways. He could've resisted with only his willpower and raw determination. "There's another path to psychic power too," he countered.
"I know," said Hidetada. "Too improbable, requiring your natural Resilience to hit 75, and then being one of the lucky few offered the Mind of Shaloth'Eshk Feat. Having a Stat at 75 while in the second Tier is unlikely, even if you have a Capstone like I expect, something like Samson's Might, but rarer.
"And unless my calculations are wrong, you hit level 38 in this purge, just now unlocking a new Feat Option, so couldn't have taken it even if offered, ruling out that path."
Angar mulled that over for a moment as he looked at the corpses and the blood-streaked floor. "If I'm to be used as bait, why waste time training me? Or why spend more on me?"
"Who knows when the next opportunity to use you as bait will arise?" Hidetada replied. "And generosity is the most beautiful deception of all. Why stick around if you know I see you as bait to be used?"
"I swore an oath to you." Angar, wanting to finally surprise this man, asked, "What happens when someone is offered the Mind of Shaloth'Eshk Feat, and before taking it, manifests psychic potential naturally, but still has it in their Feat list?"
Thick and heavy silence stretched across the comms. He'd finally surprised the famed Saint Ash, the Star of Fate. A grin tugged at his lips beneath his helm.
Long seconds ticked by before Hidetada's voice returned, cautious. "Impossible."
Angar shrugged, then turned, his boot and implant grinding against the gore-slick floor as he started toward the larger cell. "Wait!" Hidetada's tone sharpened. "On your honor, you speak the truth?"
"I don't lie," said Angar.
"Then don't pick that Feat. Not yet. Let me investigate. Do I have your permission to ask Hierarch Rusak about this? I'll invoke the Sacrament of Penance first, so he'll be bound by the sacramental seal's silence."
"Understood, and you have it," Angar replied.
"Good."
Angar took another moment to flick away a little more gore.
He stomped through the now silent warehouse as he approached the cramped cell where the powerful Heretics stood, their eyes alight with unholy defiance.
Runes surrounded the cell, and a faint sheen covered it too.
Nine prisoners stood in the cage. Four appeared untainted, their forms still human, all men. A few of the others might once have been women, but they were all so twisted by corruption now, either fully given over to possession or their dark pact deepened, it was hard to tell.
None bore weapons. All but two of the twisted bore armor, untainted and unprofaned, as did two of the unmarred men.
Best of all, these Heretics looked very eager to fight.