"Là wǒ'ér… fǎ kě'ér~"
Under Eden's control, the entire dreamscape filled with a seductive, decadent melody.
Khorne, the Blood God, made His entrance first. His body was slicked with massage oil, studded with multicolored sequins, and He strutted in on high heels.
"Hiss…"
"This is probably a bit too advanced for the Warp. The impact is… kind of overwhelming."
Eden had personally sculpted the whole thing, yet even he found it hard to keep a straight face.
The Warp held every kind of blasphemous spectacle, but it rarely involved beings of the highest order. The Chaos Gods—and even the Greater Daemons and Daemon Princes—did not allow their majesty to be profaned.
Especially not a god like Khorne, the god of slaughter and war. To preserve mystery and authority, He usually manifested as a blood-shadow, and He punished disrespectful worshippers without hesitation.
Besides, even if someone truly dared to profane the gods, their ending would be miserable.
They really could trace the tainted Warp energy back to you. In some cases, merely thinking about it could get you "unboxed" on the spot.
But Eden was different. He was already at the point of no return, so he had no fear of the Chaos Gods coming to "unbox" him.
"I'm doing it under my real name, openly. What can you hateful Ruinous Gods do to me?!"
Eden did not flinch. He continued to manipulate the dreamscape—and even broadcast it across the Warp at scale.
Since the old man Emperor had already been socially executed, then everyone could get socially executed together. That was only fair.
Surely the old man could understand.
Under Eden's control, Khorne began to sway, dropped into an absurdly difficult squat, thrusting His bulging front forward in a way that was downright eye-searing.
Even the Skull Throne behind Him had been decorated with purple eyeshadow.
The visual shock was extreme.
Crack.
A thorned blood-whip snapped against the ground.
The Prince of Pleasure appeared in brass armor—styled like an ascetic, restrained "Blood God" and striding in with aggressive presence.
Thump, thump, thump—
To the beat of heavy footsteps, Grandfather Nurgle came in next, pinching two fingers delicately and taking tiny minced steps.
His tender pink lips were so conspicuous it was impossible to ignore, and his whole body was covered in foamy soap bubbles, as if he were determined to scrub himself spotless.
Even the worms dropping to the floor looked clean and glossy, like they had a neat-freak's obsession with hygiene.
Last to appear was the Lord of Change—Tzeentch—an enormous raven wearing a thong and green eyeshadow.
He was cross-eyed, and He had no secrets at all, as if everything about Him had been laid bare for all to see.
The four Chaos Gods assembled under the scorching music, striking explosive poses.
Each god's entrance came with special effects and a floating poster in midair, clearly labeling their identity.
The Four Lewds of Chaos had arrived!
And it was not just them. More Warp entities appeared in humiliating forms—Greater Daemons, Daemon Princes, and more.
Even the mighty Bloodthirster Ka'Bandha made a scandalous entrance in a certain… form.
But in the next instant, his illusion vanished.
"Ka'Bandha is, after all, my good brother from another father and another mother—a warmhearted friend who has bled for the Imperium and made contributions. I should save him a little face."
Eden pondered, then erased Ka'Bandha's projection.
That way, in the realm of Chaos, he would be the only one who did not get socially executed. He could keep more faith and authority.
"Ka'Bandha, you and I are the real brothers. In the future, you'll have to make even more contributions to the Imperium, won't you?"
Eden sighed with feeling.
After that, he accelerated the dreamscape's blasphemous progression.
Rumble—
A colossal throne rose up above the dream.
Eden sat upon it like an untouchable god, looking down upon the deities below.
He lifted a hand lightly, as if issuing a command, and then the Chaos Gods "followed the script."
It grew increasingly eye-searing.
For example, the Prince of Pleasure binding and whipping the "Bulgarian Blood God," while Grandfather Nurgle and the Lord of Change tangled together in a chaotic, feverish frenzy.
More bastard Greater Daemons and Daemon Princes joined the performance.
Demons danced in utter pandemonium.
Then, even more outrageous "genderbent" versions of the Chaos Gods appeared, their images utterly destroyed—shockingly intense.
Countless scenes of social death and blasphemy were projected beyond the dreamscape, carried into distant reaches.
The Warp boiled!
Eden looked on and nodded in satisfaction.
Wasn't this far more stimulating than the Prince of Pleasure's flimsy, bargain-bin dream?
Now, more and more authority of pleasure gathered upon the Sun of Hope, pushing its power even higher.
Arms folded across his chest, Eden curled the corner of his mouth in smug satisfaction—like some overconfident "dragon-king son-in-law" from a melodrama.
"Tsk. What's the point of small-time nonsense? You need me to step in.
Slaanesh, that innocent little god, what does He know about pleasure?!"
Only a grand "work" like this—one that involved the Chaos Gods and spread through the Warp—could concentrate high-quality pleasure-authority.
It even subtly siphoned some of the faith the other Chaos Gods lost due to their shattered images.
Of course, the Prince of Pleasure would never dare do this personally. If He did, the other gods would probably smash His head in.
Eden could feel it: even the Prince of Pleasure was shocked—and excited—with a faint thread of regret.
A blasphemous, ecstatic spectacle like this benefited that being too, strengthening His pleasure-authority.
Unfortunately, He could only drink the soup.
Eden had directed everything. He was the true creator, and he had effectively seized control of the dream—so naturally he could absorb far more of the highest-grade pleasure-authority!
…
Oleincis, the duel arena.
The blasphemous scenes within the pleasure-dream were projected on the gigantic warp-tainted screen in ultra-high definition.
Every Chaos entity present could see exactly what was happening, with effects and sound that were downright overwhelming.
In an instant, the cheering jammed in their throats, and silence fell.
The Chaos beings stared blankly at the profane spectacle. Their minds and faith took a brutal impact.
It was like an Ecclesiarchy preacher suddenly seeing the Emperor in a bikini, right in front of him, acting as a "Bulgarian Demon King."
Not going insane on the spot was already impressive.
After a brief silence, a far greater riot erupted.
"Blood God…"
"No… that isn't Grandfather!"
"Ah, what exquisite blasphemous pleasure?!"
"Gah—!"
Staring at the blasphemy in the pleasure-dream, the Chaos beings erupted into all kinds of wails.
Some collapsed on the spot, unable to face it, seized by deep profanation and fear.
This time, the Chaos beings were even less able to hold it together than when they had previously seen the Cursed One.
Because what was being desecrated now was their faith—their gods.
Ordinarily, these Chaos worshippers were devout to the bone, praying constantly for divine favor. To even look directly upon their Dark Gods was considered blasphemy.
And now they were forced to witness scenes this profane. The majestic, mysterious images of the Chaos Gods in their hearts shattered with a thunderous collapse.
Rage followed.
In the duel arena, only the Slaaneshi worshippers fared better. They were even more excited—some even developed a trace of admiration for the Savior.
"The Devourer of Daemons has shaped such a marvelous scene."
At this moment, that Devourer of Daemons seemed to understand blasphemy better than the Prince of Pleasure ever had.
"What humiliation… pleasure humiliates the god of slaughter…"
But the Khornate worshippers, seeing their Blood God hung in midair and lashed by the Prince of Pleasure and Slaanesh's Greater Daemons, were filled with grief and fury.
They glared at the ecstatic Slaaneshi around them, fists clenching hard.
As for Nurgle's worshippers, watching their Grandfather get scrubbed clean, sterilized, and disinfected by the Lord of Change and his followers—
They were furious.
With the Savior's deliberate provocation, tensions in the duel arena accumulated. The air grew thicker with gunpowder.
He really did know how to stoke a fire.
And as for Eden himself, he had long since "gone invisible" within the blasphemous footage, causing the daemons to overlook his presence.
"Brother Eden is provoking Chaos infighting. I have a chance to break free!"
After a brief stunned pause, Guilliman noticed the change in the duel arena and began to feel faint hope.
If the daemons fell into chaos, he might be able to break his restraints.
"You hypocrite!"
Fulgrim no longer cared about Guilliman. He stared at the blasphemous footage in the pleasure-dream, trembling from head to toe, utterly overheated with rage.
There was even an illusion of him inside the pleasure-dream, shaped by the Savior into a short, ugly clownish sycophant.
His projection could only crouch at the Prince of Pleasure's feet, pitifully watching others lash the Blood God.
It was a particularly vicious humiliation.
The fallen Phoenician could already imagine what would happen to his image once the footage spread through the galaxy and the Warp.
It was worse than the previous humiliation.
"I will not let your plot succeed. These false phantoms cannot break the trap I have set."
Fulgrim drew a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.
He had not lost yet.
The duel arena contained a Morgarta-stone formation meant to deal with the Savior, the key to extracting the Savior's Warp essence.
So chaos here was unacceptable. Otherwise, everything he had prepared would become wasted effort.
Fulgrim floated into the air above the arena, attempting to destroy the warp-tainted screen and cut off the broadcast.
But he discovered the screen was anchored to the dreamscape. With his power, destroying it was not easy.
Very quickly, Fulgrim changed tactics and began speaking to the Chaos beings present.
"Everyone. Everything in the pleasure-dream is forged by the Savior. It is a false phantom.
As long as we deny it, it cannot affect anything…"
The Warp was a realm of belief. If the daemons did not believe the blasphemous scenes, then the Savior could not impact the Chaos Gods' images or faith.
And the audience's conflicts would naturally subside.
But before Fulgrim could finish, the pleasure-dream's footage shifted again—and a warm, enthusiastic voice rang out.
"Ah, my dear worshippers~
Can you tolerate the Prince of Pleasure whipping and humiliating the Blood God?
Can you tolerate the Lord of Change washing Grandfather squeaky clean?
Do you not want to strike back and reclaim your dignity?!"
The voice was intensely inflammatory, like a live host warming up the crowd.
"Worshippers, if you refuse to endure this, then offer your faith and loyalty. Hurry—support your gods.
Give them the chance to break free of humiliation and launch their counterattack!"
As he spoke, the warp-tainted screen split into something like streaming rooms.
A glittering half-body projection of the "Bulgarian Blood God" flashed with sequins, alongside images of the Prince of Pleasure, Grandfather Nurgle, and the Lord of Change.
Each half-body image had its own distinct "branding," but every one of them demanded support, and above each head was an eye-catching, flame-wreathed tip-progress bar.
It demanded that worshippers donate faith and power to the pleasure-dream.
Inside the pleasure-dream, the Chaos Gods' projections were about to do a "PK match." The worshippers' participation could influence what the gods did!
"For the Blood God!"
"Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!"
The Khornate worshippers had long been unable to endure the Prince of Pleasure's whipping humiliation of their Blood God.
They roared, pouring rage and faith-tainted Warp energy into the Blood God within the dream.
Not only the Khornate—worshippers of the other Chaos Gods also piled in, rapidly joining the frenzy.
They poured faith-tainted energy into the pleasure-dream like a flood.
"Idiots. A pack of idiots!
You are being deceived. That is the Savior's trap!"
Fulgrim saw it and his vision went dark.
It was obviously a faith-harvesting snare the Savior had constructed.
The Savior had already seized control of the dream. The "tips" donated into it would, in all likelihood, be swallowed by him.
Worse still, the daemons' behavior made the humiliating imagery feel more "real," causing the Chaos Gods to lose majesty and suffer faith decline.
"Stop this at once!"
Fulgrim roared, threatening the Chaos audience—but in the next instant, a blood-axe flew in from nowhere and smashed into his head.
No one cared what Fulgrim said. To them, he was just an obstacle.
There was no helping it. The hatred between Chaos daemons ran deeper.
They only wanted to win—even if it was within a fake, blasphemous spectacle.
Especially the Khornate daemons. They could not endure their god being humiliated like this by pleasure.
Worse yet, the Slaaneshi daemons seemed even more eager with their "tips," fully invested. They wanted to see the Blood God lashed and shamed.
To Slaaneshi daemons, that was the ultimate blasphemous torment.
In an instant, the Prince of Pleasure's tip-bar skyrocketed.
And the whipping became even fiercer, forcing the Blood God to howl and squeal like some pathetic lackey who had just gotten his toes stepped on.
"No!"
"Fight back. We must stop this!"
Seeing this, the Khornate daemons grew even more furious and contributed even more faith-tainted energy, trying to empower the Blood God's projection.
"Hiss…"
"The immersion is way too strong. Who can withstand this?!"
Watching the Blood God shoved forward and whipped mercilessly inside the pleasure-dream, Eden sighed.
The Slaaneshi daemons tipped enthusiastically, as if tipping meant they personally participated in the whipping.
"Still… I really did offend the Blood God pretty hard this time."
If this blasphemous footage spread for long enough, it would be a catastrophic blow to the Blood God's authority and faith.
He might genuinely have to rebrand.
After all, the Blood God relied on slaughter and war to sustain His power. He had to display strength to earn worshippers' reverence.
If his majesty weakened, he might not even be able to keep the Greater Daemons in line. It was not like there had never been Greater Daemons who threw punches at the Blood God—or launched vicious sneak attacks.
Of course, it was not only the Prince of Pleasure who suffered. The other Chaos Gods were not much better—their authoritative images were being destroyed in the same way.
Within the pleasure-dream, the Chaos Gods' tip-bars surged back and forth, displaying the ferocity of faith conflict.
And Eden sat in the middle, stirring and manipulating, guiding the daemons to contribute even more faith-tainted Warp energy—sending "big rockets" and dumping everything they had.
He could feel the Sun of Hope's dark-side energy recovering at extreme speed. The reserves he had burned to control the dream were rapidly replenishing.
With the blasphemous footage spreading on a massive scale, not only would he not lose—he would profit obscenely, harvesting a vast quantity of faith-tainted energy.
He could also strike the Chaos Gods' authority and prestige, making them bleed losses.
Damage to image like this was not something they could restore in the short term.
In the next moment, Eden noticed fighting outside the pleasure-dream.
When the Khornate daemons realized they could not win "online," they began "offline" violence—real strikes against the Slaaneshi daemons.
That triggered wider daemon brawls, turning everything into a boiling mess.
But it only intensified the faith-energy contributions.
Eden happily absorbed the tidal wave of faith-tainted energy, his mood rising further.
"Streaming really is the best way to farm faith-energy. Cutting these leeks feels amazing."
As he thought that, he controlled the pleasure-projection to whip the Blood God's projection even harder, making it shriek and howl, stimulating the daemons' emotions in the "stream."
He even secretly manipulated the tip-bar totals to keep everything at a fever pitch.
As if just a little more faith-energy would let their god seize victory.
So the daemons went all-in.
Gradually, the Sun of Hope's dark side condensed more and more tainted energy—especially pleasure-energy.
Eden felt his own image being "beautified" yet again.
Roar—!
A terrifying bellow rang out, as if it would tear the Warp itself apart.
Eden's expression changed sharply, and deep worry rose in his chest.
One of the aggrieved parties—Khorne, the Blood God—had discovered it all.
He was furious, and He was coming to settle accounts with Eden!
(End of Chapter)
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