Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

"what--!"

A long, uninterrupted scream was ringing in the forbidden castle.

This building is basically integrated with the palace and runs through the entire Himalayas. Magnificent, but only a few people are allowed to come here, and their responsibilities are completely disproportionate to the number.

The Star Torch Court has always maintained a membership of 10,000 psionicists in the past years. Compared with the huge responsibility of maintaining the burning star torch, these 10,000 psionicists are really insignificant. But they only maintain the star torch, and the one who really plays a guiding role is the Lord of Humanity.

The peak of the Forbidden Castle is a hollowed-out mountain, and the inside is carved into the Star Torch Hall. Magnificent, with little decoration other than thick cables and complicated instruments. It was extremely monotonous, there was not even a chair, and there was a constant whistling of cold wind in the empty hall.

The stone wall still maintains its original appearance. In the past 10,000 years, 10,000 psionicists have recited scriptures here every day, devoutly using their psionic energy to contribute to the future of mankind.

Today, they are dying one by one.

die incessantly.

Another scream, He Shenyan's fingers twitched because of the scream.

An acolyte sitting in the rear completed his ritual. His flesh and blood began to tremble, and his bones twisted out of his body, turning into a terrifying appearance in the sour voice.

Then his skin, wrinkled and translucent. The dark blue psionic brilliance penetrated from within the body, and after a short pause, the psionic energy suddenly became violent, igniting his whole body into a dark blue torch.

The flesh began to melt, and the unsettling noise was enough to show the agony the Acolyte was going through. His screams never stopped, but so did the act of burning himself.

Sometimes, humans can reject something by will alone.

Money, the lure of immortality, the beauty of the opposite sex, or life. Endure pain, endure torture, endure everything for one goal.

Thirty seconds passed, and the acolyte became a pool of blue dust that was still smoking.

His psychic energy rose from the ashes, and the manic unmaintained psychic hovered on the ashes for a while, making hollow echoes in the cave, mixed with the chanting of the acolytes. Finally, it whizzed into the mage's body, causing him to let out a muffled groan.

His forehead was already covered with fine beads of sweat, and his palms were trembling. The wounds left by the previous battle with Nurgle had not yet healed, and these irritable psychic intrusions had the opposite effect, not only did not speed up the healing of the wounds, but even made his pain worse.

Every time.

He was breathing with trembling, his lungs throbbing with pain. It has nothing to do with absorbing psionic energy, it is just an illusion of his body, a self-protection mechanism used to warn him. He sucked too much energy in a short amount of time - first the planets in the warp, then the psykers.

Combining complex energies will produce many complex reactions. To put it more simply, those energies are producing explosions in his body. And He Shenyan deliberately did not stop this process, he needed this kind of pain.

"I Have a Scroll of Ghosts and Gods"

If he wants to dominate the brilliance of the star torch, he needs the following conditions.

First, the same willpower as the Emperor.

Second, the same or at least similar psionic fluctuations as him.

Third, pain.

For ten thousand years, he continued to guide the light of the star torch to guide the ships of the Empire and guide the way forward. Xing Ju is already familiar with the ubiquitous severe pain in his psionic energy. If he wants to bypass Xing Ju's self-protection mechanism, He Shenyan must do so.

This way made him think of a word.

sacrifice.

At the cost of the broken souls of 4,700 people, in exchange for a chance.

They were willing to be sacrificed and sacrificed in exchange for an uncertain future. He Shenyan did not guarantee that he would succeed, nor did he give any success rate,

He just said the plan and said he was going to try it.

That's all.

Not much time was wasted by all the acolytes, in fact, not even a minute before they agreed. he

The death of 4,700 people took half an hour, and the dust covered the floor and gave off the unpleasant smell of burnt lake. Their final gifts floated above He Shenyan's head, sinking into his body one by one. Guilliman, who was watching from the side, clenched his back molars tightly, and the lines of his face were extremely hard.

He didn't know what the future of the Empire would hold, in fact, Robert Guilliman, a statesman skilled in thinking and calculation, didn't want to think about anything right now.

He just sincerely wished the Master success.

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

Angron was still sitting on the long steps, and he was familiar with it. Two parallel worlds, some things are completely different, others are extremely similar. Like the steps under his ass. He emptied his mind, trying hard not to think of Givaudoren, he didn't want to get angry again.

A man approached him, and Angron didn't even bother to lift his head, just told him calmly: "I'm trying to keep calm, you better not try to provoke me."

"Why should talking to you be seen as irritating you?"

"Because I don't want to communicate with anyone right now." Angron said bluntly, his tone like ice. His fingers were rubbing the handle of the great axe.

The person who came sat beside him, and unlike Angron who lowered his head, he raised his head. With long white hair scattered behind his head, he stroked the shallow scar on his face, stared at the golden sun in the sky, and said softly, "I never thought that this day would come."

"If I remember correctly, you betrayed once." Angron grinned and smiled. "Did you not think about this situation in those days? I thought you were looking forward to this scene day and night."

Fulgrim was not angry, Phoenix just smiled and shook his head: "Here, you are also a betrayal, Angron, but don't forget this. Look at what those Imperial Fists and Custodians are looking at you. Make an expression."

"I think they should be looking at you." Angron said mercilessly. "Anyone with eyes should be able to tell the difference between me and that guy, but you—ha."

He let out a sharp sneer, and the sun above his head was still hanging there, but there was no real sense of temperature. It does not have the slightest temperature that the sun should have, it is just pure cold.

"At this time, are you still trying to quarrel with me?"

Fulgrim asked helplessly, "What? Don't tell me he's as helpless as we are."

"He disappeared with Guilliman half an hour ago. Those Ultramarines are desperate now. Look at how anxious they are."

Angron was not stingy with his own ridicule, and it was obviously not a wise move to ridicule the brothers. But considering his mood, Fulgrim let him go. Phoenix began to think about more realistic and heavy topics.

If... Ho fails, and his father, the Emperor of Mankind, really dies, how will the Empire continue to survive?

Their society is a complex, large, and incredibly bloated system, ruled by totalitarian rule and dressed in the guise of religion.

The people are ignorant and irrational, and unless their ancestors are nobles or soldiers who have made meritorious deeds, they may spend their entire lives in factories until they die. They are consumables, substitutes and parts. There are countless such parts in the entire empire.

They've been indoctrinated from birth on who to believe in and who to reject. They're mindless madmen, dedicated fools...and people who have no choice.

Such a horrific rule, with lies covering the truth and obscuring the vision of the people, who were not allowed to be told the truth, and sometimes were not allowed to live, simply because they saw something.

However, this is the only way to protect them in this icy dark universe.

The imperial state religion is a monotheistic religion, if after today, the leading god dies...

What will happen?

Fulgrim could enumerate a thousand complicated and cruel endings in a split second.

The great collapse, the division of the empire. Alien invasion, most of the planets directly become the hands of the four gods in the chaotic pollution. The rest lingered in a dark future, and the Astartes could not change the future, but died in despair in battle.

And those they protect will die behind them, in deeper despair.

He raised his head hesitantly and wanted to say something, but his thoughts were interrupted the next moment.

A violent sound began to fill his eardrums, the sound was so manic, but it contained great pain. In the first second, there was severe pain in Phoenix's ears, and in the second, thick blood flowed from his nostrils and eyes, staining his face scarlet.

Third second.

A long third second.

A huge beam of light rose from the ground and rose to the sky in an instant. The golden beam of light also had no temperature at all, only pure pain and rationality existed in it.

Fulgrim fell to his knees. He stared at his nails and fingers. At that moment, he had hallucinations, and he felt as if he could see the phalanx. The terrifying vision struck in an instant, but he used his own willpower to control it all. Press down.

It wasn't until Angron asked him if he was okay, that Fulgrim came to his senses. He gasped, and the complicated thoughts set off a storm in his mind. It took a while before he understood what was going on. Then, Fulgrim realized, the loud noise was a scream.

"what happened?"

He asked with difficulty, and finally had time to look around. The Astartes fell to the ground, people with strong psionic power like him were even more unbearable, and several even fell into a coma.

"I have no idea."

Angron told him through gritted teeth. The Lord of Red Sand felt an urge to vomit at this moment. He tried his best to suppress it, forcing himself not to show any reaction, but Fulgrim still saw something from his pale face.

"Well, whatever the hell he's doing..." Fulgrim took a deep look at the huge beam of light. "I want him to be successful."

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

Yin Chikil is also one of the more psionic people.

The third company commander and his squad have been fighting since the Vengeance landed. Due to their small number, they did not go to the palace to support like the monks of the Iron Snakes Chapter, but moved quickly between battlefields on combat motorcycles provided by the Imperial Fist.

At this moment, he was sitting on a motorcycle, staring at the huge golden beam of light rising from the direction of the palace, silently. The chainsaw sword on his waist was still dripping blood, and one side of the helmet was heavily damaged, and half of his side face could even be seen directly from the breach.

This is the trace that a predator left him.

The damn thing rushed out of the trench, and the huge force and the sharp claws nearly tore his head directly, but fortunately, Yinzikir took a step back at the last moment and was saved from death.

There's only one reason why he still wears the helmet, Yinzikir also needs the indicator function on the eyepiece.

"Company commander..." the company's combat veteran called to him. However, Yinzekiel did not answer. He remained silent on the combat motorcycle, and his field of vision rose in an instant—to an unimaginable height.

This is a sea of ​​stars.

He had seen it many times, but it was always on a battleship or in a landing module ready for a gang jump. He had never really stood in a vacuum wearing a power armor before, Yin Qiqier looked down, and the magnificent scene didn't make his heart feel even a little bit turbulent.

Until a familiar voice sounded behind him: "I hope you don't blame me for bringing you here without saying hello, Yin Chi Kiel."

"...Father of genes."

Inzekiel turned away and lowered his head deeply, expressing his humility. And the man he called the father of genes obviously didn't like it.

He sighed and then asked, "Do you still have the feather I entrusted to you?"

"Yes, the father of genes."

Yin Ziqier stretched out his hand and pressed it on the side of the breastplate, and a buckle was opened. From the gap in Tao Gang, he pulled out the still white feather.

It was lying quietly in the crimson gauntlet, shining white light emitting from above. A slender hand took it and began to examine it carefully in front of him.

After a while, Sanguinius smiled helplessly.

"I thought death was the end, Inzikil," said Sanguinius slowly. "Now it seems, no."

"Death is not the end of duty...for us like that," he paused. "... Creatures, come on. Death is not the end, it's just a short rest."

"I don't understand, father of genes."

"You don't need to understand, Inzikil. It's better you don't know these things."

Sanguinius reached out and nudged him gently. A strong sense of weightlessness came quickly, and Yinzikir felt that his eyes were about to come out of their sockets, and then he heard the last words of Sanguinius.

"I'll be back soon."