Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

He Shenyan stared at Fulgrim, to be precise, at his wreckage.

The monster's body was completely incinerated into a charred corpse, and only a few human parts remained. It was hoisted up, its empty eye sockets empty, and dreamlike words continued to come out of its throat.

Very deceptive - so the mage thought.

Yes, very deceptive. Fulgrim was known for his beauty before his fall, his looks transcended gender, a beauty that would break the hearts of all who saw him. And after his fall, the part left by this monster is also touching enough.

Its embarrassed appearance at this time is rather pitiful. If a mortal is here, I am afraid that it will immediately undo its shackles. Unfortunately, there were only two people present.

And their hearts are like stone.

Angron held his hands, leaned against the wall and stared at the monster with the face of his brother, with mixed emotions in his eyes.

"It seems that we can't ask anything. Its vocal cords are completely destroyed. The only remaining self-healing ability can only ensure that it does not die and cannot make it speak again."

"...kill it?"

"No." He Shenyan shook his head. "Not for now. I haven't found a way to completely destroy its soul. Letting it die now will only make it stronger and come back."

As he spoke, he frowned: "The influence of Slaanesh is too ingrained, and this damn thing even feels a little enjoyment at this stage. I can't completely eradicate his influence, of course, it may also be It's fallen too deep."

Destroying the soul of a demon prince is a near-impossible task. The reason is that the problem is still in the subspace.

They are blessed by their masters, and their souls are inextricably linked to the warp in a ritual of depravity - killing a demon prince in the physical realm, an act known as banishment. They'll go back to the warp, and they'll make a comeback. The only way to do it once and for all is to kill them in the warp.

But there, is their home.

The lines of Angron's face hardened.

He shook his head extremely slowly, a terrible hatred roaring within him. The hatred came from his blood, his mind, his memory. The past that made him what he is now all shouted loudly at this time, and there were ten million identical voices chanting the same sentence in his mind.

kill it.

End this tragic fall.

But Angron said no.

His sanity returned at this moment, the sanity of Angron, the Primarch of the Devouring Valor. That was his reason for rejecting Khorne, refusing to allow himself to slaughter lives.

That is his heart.

In He Shenyan's eyes, Angron knelt on the ground almost instantly, blood dripping from his nose. He stepped forward and put his hand on Angron's broad shoulder, the golden flames flashed away, and then he slowly stood up.

"Just a little bit..."

He Shenyan heard his muttering, and the primarch raised his head, the light in his eyes made the Master startled: "He can't make me submit."

"interesting."

The mage silently raised the Vengeance's spiritual defense spell level, and all the spells he learned were all released at this moment. It is forever preserved on the hull of the Vengeance in the form of an engraving, even if it makes its simple magic channel a bit bloated, He Shenyan will not hesitate.

He realized that he might have underestimated their power—after doing all this, his mental power scanned the entire ship five times, inside and out, and no one, not even himself, was left behind.

No sign of depravity was found. temporary.

Fulgrim's tattered body was still bound in the air by the golden chains, which lifted it high and kept its corrupt nature locked away. As long as these chains exist for one day, it cannot return to the warp, nor can it die.

However, this is just a stopgap measure - they can't take it around this star field, whether there is a plan to recover the lost ground or not, you know. This is a demon prince of Slaanesh.

There had to be a way, a way to get it hit hard.

The mage narrowed his eyes, and Angron stood behind him and twisted his neck. The bones crackled, and he said in a deep voice, "How long can you hang it like this?"

"Long time, but I don't want it to stay on the Vengeance for too long."

Angron tried to think of something, but, after a few minutes, he gave up.

He can't think of any way - he currently knows nothing about this strange and familiar universe, let alone, is there any way to do it better than now? Temporarily bound it, making it temporarily unable to pose any threat to humans. The resulting risk was also limited to the Vengeance.

In the long run, this is a good idea.

The mage's fingers are interlaced, and the index fingers are bumping against each other.

Suddenly, he turned his head and glanced at the ground thoughtfully, and then sighed: "The bad thing is really one after another, Angron, there is a man who appeared out of nowhere in the vehicle storage room on the second deck. Visitor, would you mind asking him to come to the main control room?"

"Visitor...?"

A light curtain rose, and in the vehicle warehouse, a tall figure in a black robe was walking in it.

-------------------------------------

"Fun, funny, just so much fun."

Talasin smugly touched his chin with a metal finger, his metal skeleton face was expressionless, but his voice seemed very pleasant: "It's not worth my effort to study the things outside this ship. Strange shield, so worth it!"

There was green light in his empty eye sockets, walking in the vehicle warehouse, looking at the huge mechanical dragon in front of him, he almost went up to lick it twice. That hunger and thirst couldn't even hide his expressionless skeleton face.

"It's really strange that someone in this uninteresting universe can actually make such a baby."

He came to the huge head of the mechanical dragon, put his right hand on it, and rubbed it carefully. Amazed from time to time.

"Horrible! Terrible! Who the hell made this kind of thing? So many superimposed energy delivery pipes... Strange, is this technology? How come I've never seen such a thing? "

"You better stop, Necromancer, or I can't promise what I'll do to you."

A thick voice came from behind him, and Talasin turned around unsurprisingly, but he was a little surprised by the person who came.

The way he expresses his surprise is to slap his metal cheeks with two hands up, Angron clearly doesn't understand his behavior, interpreting it as a precursor to some kind of attack. He has dealt with several Necron overlords and was very impressed with them.

"You, hiss—" Tarasine sucked in a breath. "Fabius cloned another?! Where did he get the uncontaminated gene-seed?"

"No, no, this is not a ship that the Chaos War Gang can have, otherwise that heartless braid would have taken someone straight to Terra. Tsk, strange, strange, where did you come from?"

Angron looked at the Necromancer speaking to himself with a blank expression, and he was very concerned about some information revealed in the other party's words.

"Hey, why do I care so much?"

Thalassian shrugged, turned his hand indifferently and stuck a black instrument on the head of the mechanical dragon. Then he waved to Angron: "Goodbye, remember to live! I will come to visit you."

After he finished speaking, he pressed the black instrument, but this old man who was quite trusted by him did not function normally as before. Tarasin glanced up, then pressed it again.

Over, over, over again. He held up a finger while pressing and motioned for Angron to wait a bit: "Uh, do you mind waiting for me for a while?"

"Stop your pointless, hilarious clumsiness. Someone wants to see you, come with me."

Angron clapped his hands expressionlessly, and a blue light enveloped him and Tarasin. The space death spirit felt a slight weightlessness, and the people in front of him surprised him.

"God! When did he give birth to a child himself?!"

He Shenyan took a deep breath.

This reaction quickly made Talasin realize something. While he was trying to remain elegant, this tall metal skeleton that looked very terrifying could also appear suave, humble and polite.

"Oh, no offense, it seems that I made a mistake in judgment. I'm really sorry, but I haven't communicated normally with people for a long time." He said a lie and bowed slightly.

"How did you slip into my boat?"

"Come in."

"...Okay, I'll treat you as if you can come in."

The mage raised his eyebrows, realizing that the character of the other party might be somewhat similar to him.

So, he also put on an expression that didn't care, but what he said was like a bomb in Tarazin's ears: "Mr. Unlimited, are you interested in Fulgrim? "

Tarasin looked as if he had been punched on his chin with a power glove, so severe that it even dislocated his jaw.

"Ho--" The sounding machine built into his throat perfectly simulates the surprised sound that can only be made by the living. "—You, who are you talking about?!"

"Fulgram, of course, I mean after the Fall."

The mage winked at him: "How? Are you interested?"

"Too much!"

Talasin appeared beside the mage in the blink of an eye, and the speed was so fast that Angron almost drew his axe to give him a blow. But he just held He Shenyan's right hand affectionately, holding it up and down, the appearance of a philistine is completely unimaginable.

"Where is he now? No, I mean, what do you want?"

His attitude was fervent: "Anything—anything, you can pick one from my collection, good sir, please make this deal with me! Otherwise I'll be awake at night!"

God knows how he said the words "no sleep at night", he didn't need sleep at all.

He Shenyan pulled his hand out of his icy, deadly metal palm without a trace, then simply burned the tiny machine he had placed on the back of his hand with flames. Talasin's movements stagnated for a moment, but He Shenyan did not expose him.

He put on an impeccable perfect smile and extended his hand cordially. He wanted to pat Tarasine on the shoulder, but because of the height of the two, he had to give up. Instead, he patted his waist.

He Shenyan said with a smile, "Don't worry, Mr. Talasin, we can go and see the goods first, what do you think?"

"well!"

Angron thought, the world has changed too fast. He shook his head and followed behind the two of them. It didn't take long before he came to the quiet room temporarily used to imprison Fulgrim.

Tarasin stared dumbfounded at the suspended Fulgrim, whimpering from his throat, shouting as if he had seen a heartbreaking piece of art.

"It's just—just perfect!" he said incoherently. "Who made this flawless work of art? Is that you? Sir!"

He Shenyan nodded.

"I knew it! Only someone with the same taste as me can make such perfect work! The Emperor is above, may he bless you!"

Angron, who was on the sidelines, wished he had never been here before.

What's wrong with this world? A Necronomicon shouts the Emperor above...  

"Ah, and may he bless you, too, Mr. Tarasin, and hope that someday his light will shine upon your head."

Still with that impeccable kind smile, He Shenyan, who had somehow become like a bureaucrat or a businessman, looked rather uncomfortable to Angron. He even felt that the mage was wearing a mask on his face.

"This, you don't have to, I have my place." Talasin laughed blankly.

He said, "So, my good sir, how much do I have to pay to take this art?"

He Shenyan raised his eyebrows slightly: "You don't inspect the goods?"

"Ah, I'm not too old to see the authenticity of this work!" Talasin raised a finger. "But I only have one request! I hope you can sell me the ropes that hang him! Including those mutilated organs and blood on the ground!"

He opened his hands and shouted: "You know! A work of art can't be damaged in the slightest!"

"As expected of you, Mr. Tarasin, the Emperor has described you well—you are indeed a tasteful collector."

He Shenyan smiled like those painters who had been praised, and his attitude became eager. The two even started addressing each other with honorifics.

"So, what are you going to trade with me?"

Finally, it's finally time for the main event...

Angron closed his eyes, and kept reciting the motto of the Legion in his heart—in just ten minutes or so, he had the urge to rush out several times. This scene is so... uncomfortable.

Talasin pondered for a while, and what he said made Angron's eyes widen instantly: "Why not... an uncorrupted Fulgrim? What do you think?"