Chapter 63 Fulgrim Knows Nothing About a Minecraft Modder

As the First Flame merged with him, fire ignited in the Lion’s eyes and wreathed his body, turning him into a living torch.

During this process, the heroic spirits of fallen Dark Angels materialized around the Lion. They dropped to one knee, pledging their eternal loyalty to their Primarch once more. Sanguinius and Guilliman recognized quite a few familiar faces in the spectral crowd. There was Corswain, the Lord Seneschal of the First Legion, who had fought through the Great Crusade and the Horus Heresy, leading ten thousand Dark Angels to reinforce Terra during the Siege and successfully recapturing the Astronomican. There was also Holguin, the voted lieutenant of the Deathwing, a veteran of the Rangdan Xenocides who had once accompanied the Lion to Macragge.

Once the First Flame had completely bonded with the Lion, all the blazing anomalies, phantom whispers, and spectral heroes vanished.

We’ve got the spark. Now we just need the right moment to set the entire Warp ablaze.

Vane could already picture the glorious scene of burning the Chaos Gods and their daemons as literal kindling. When the time came, he was definitely going to build a massive Kiln of the First Flame. He’d even craft custom, ultra-premium thrones for the dark gods and arch-daemons right before turning them into Lords of Cinder. The craftsmanship would be majestic and top-tier. After all, Minecraft players always went all out when it came to building authentic, material-heavy monuments.

The Lion closed his eyes and clenched his fists, feeling the surging, god-like power coursing through his veins. Opening his eyes, he bowed respectfully to Vane. “Thank you for the gift, Forefather.”

Vane waved him off casually. “Don’t mention it. Just make sure you sign the invoice. The total comes out to fifty billion star systems. Don’t forget to make your payments on time, otherwise I’m boxing you and your two brothers up and putting you on the clearance rack at the multiverse mall.”

“Fifty billion star systems?” The Lion’s eyes went wide. It was bad enough that the ‘gift’ wasn’t free, but charging an extortionate price like that? Was this guy running a cosmic loan shark operation?

“Only fifty billion? Look at Guilliman. He’s in the hole for a hundred and fifty billion, and he’s still trying to take out another loan from the Forefather,” Sanguinius said, walking over and patting the Lion on the shoulder.

The Lion looked at Guilliman, who just shrugged, silently confirming that Sanguinius wasn’t making it up.

“You two knew the Forefather was going to charge me fifty billion star systems, and you didn’t even give me a heads-up so I could mentally prepare myself?” the Lion grumbled.

“If we told you, you might have rejected it,” Sanguinius said, throwing his hands up in mock innocence. “And if you did that, who’d be left to keep me and the Thirteenth company?”

Guilliman nodded, fully backing the Great Angel’s logic.

“Brothers in our hearts,” Sanguinius said, tapping his chest with a fist.

“But conveniently unreachable when the bill comes due,” Guilliman added deadpan.

“You two bastards. What amazing, blood-is-thicker-than-water brothers I have. Truly amazing brothers!” The Lion practically ground his teeth together.

Having secured the power to stand toe-to-toe with the dark gods, the three Primarchs were finally feeling genuinely relaxed. Their banter flowed naturally, clearly awakening a sense of humor they had repressed for ten thousand years. With the Forefather on their side, they honestly couldn’t figure out a way to lose this war if they tried.

—

A few days after the Lion’s return, with Vane’s assistance, the grand victory parade stretching from the Gate of Titans straight to the Fortress of Hera was fully prepped and ready to go. Tens of thousands of towering war engines and millions of heavily armed soldiers stood in perfect, awe-inspiring formation, projecting absolute, unstoppable military might.

The streets of Macragge were practically emptied out as millions of citizens poured out of their homes to witness the historic spectacle. Massive war horns positioned across every corner of the planetary capital blew simultaneously, their deafening blasts echoing through the megacity.

Leading the procession was a massive swarm of servo-skulls and cherubs. They blasted triumphant orchestral music while broadcasting the roster of the marching legions. Right behind them were Ministorum priests riding aboard extravagant Ecclesiarchy grav-barges, chanting hymns that praised Vane, the three Primarchs, and the God-Emperor.

Finally, Vane made his grand entrance alongside the three Primarchs.

The moment their ornate hover-barge came into view, the countless citizens completely lost their minds, roaring in a tidal wave of cheers that pushed the atmosphere to an absolute fever pitch.

“Thank you all for your hard work!” Vane shouted, constantly waving to the screaming crowds from the barge’s balcony. He was totally eating up the adoration of millions. Man, the old sayings were right. The feeling of absolute power is incredibly intoxicating. No wonder people throughout history have schemed and clawed their way up the ladder to get a taste of this.

The three Primarchs stood right behind Vane, offering polite, stoic smiles to the roaring masses. Trailing them were Imperial heroes like Calgar, Dante, and Celestine, all of them looking radiant and weighed down by chests full of glittering service medals.

Once the parade reached the central dais, Vane and his entourage stepped off the hover-barge and ascended the steps to the towering viewing platform.

“Great Forefather of Humanity, your miraculous deeds have allowed our civilization to once again bask in the dawn of a future. This laurel wreath, forged from pure gold and the finest gemstones, is a tribute. Only a savior as magnificent as yourself is worthy of wearing it.”

The Tetrarch of Macragge respectfully presented a breathtakingly gorgeous, solid-gold laurel crown to Vane.

Vane took the crown and, without waiting for the Tetrarch to say another word, casually popped it onto his own head.

In a split second, a torrential flood of hyper-realistic illusions exploded inside his mind.

In these visions, he was going to conquer every single overpowered entity in the universe, cementing himself as the supreme, undisputed king of everything. The citizens of the Imperium worshipped him so fanatically that simply dying for him was considered life’s greatest achievement. The arrogant Chaos Gods were reduced to weeping, groveling messes at his feet—just like Magnus with his broken back. Colossal statues singing his praises were erected in every corner of the cosmos. Even the Emperor of Mankind respectfully vacated the Golden Throne, practically begging Vane to become the new Master of Mankind. And yet, this single Imperium was nowhere near enough of a reward for his god-like feats. He deserved so much more…

“Cute little prop. A bit small-minded, though. As if my achievements would stop there.”

Vane reached up and casually pulled the crown off his head, looking completely unimpressed. He was a guy who literally had access to infinite dimensions. The idea that his peak was conquering just one universe? Who was this illusion trying to insult? If the other hardcore Minecraft modders caught wind of this, they’d laugh him out of the lobby. He was going to conquer every universe, one by one. He was going to be the King of the Multiverse, the freest player in all of existence.

Wait, what?! Why did he just take it off?!

The Tetrarch stared at Vane in absolute, bewildered panic. He had forged this crown under the direct guidance of the dark gods. It was heavily buffed with a direct blessing from the Prince of Pleasure. Normally, an artifact like this would have instantly trapped even a Primarch in a blissful, inescapable coma of their own desires. How was this guy completely unfazed?

Vane looked up and pointed right at the Tetrarch. “Arrest this Chaos traitor.”

“Traitor? Respected Forefather, you can’t just throw accusations like that around!” The Tetrarch’s face completely drained of color. “I am loyal to—”

The Tetrarch didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Guilliman, Sanguinius, and the Lion ruthlessly dogpiled him, pinning him to the floor.

Vane had actually chatted with the three Primarchs before the parade, giving them a heads-up that the Tetrarch of Macragge was highly suspicious. Guilliman had wanted to execute the guy immediately, but Vane had waved him off.

“Nah, I want to experience Slaanesh’s power firsthand. Let’s see what kind of high it gives you.”

Faced with Vane’s bizarrely reckless curiosity, the three Primarchs had no choice but to begrudgingly go along with it.

“You can’t do this to me! I’m innocent! I’ve bled for the Imperium! I’ve been wounded for the Imperium! You can’t treat me like this!” The Tetrarch wailed, desperately trying to play the victim.

Sanguinius just raised a hand, unleashing a blast of holy, purifying light.

Under the blinding radiance, dense clusters of Chaos runes aggressively erupted across the Tetrarch’s skin. His wailing voice warped into a shrill, ear-piercing, garbled screech. His entire body rapidly mutated, twisting and bulging into a grotesquely muscular, scale-covered monstrosity.

“Damn it, how did you figure me out?! Why didn’t my Crown of Pleasure work on you?!” the monster demanded, speaking in a sickeningly sweet, syrupy voice.

“Because you’re an idiot,” Vane replied, casually tossing the crown in his hand as a system prompt popped up in his vision.

[Unlocked Crafting Recipe: Demonic Crown of Pleasure (Fills the wearer’s mind with blissful illusions, ultimately leading them astray until they become a permanent slave to the Prince of Pleasure.)]

“Fulgrim. No wonder you fell to Chaos. You really suffered from a lack of worldly experience.”

To Vane, the grand illusion Fulgrim had just cooked up was incredibly basic. Hell, just looking at his Azur Lane or Dark Souls playthroughs, he was already slaughtering gods like dogs and reshaping worlds like it was a casual morning stroll. If Slaanesh really wanted to make a Minecraft player simp, the dark god should have at least transformed into a drop-dead gorgeous, pale-skinned, long-legged, ridiculously curvy fox-girl wearing nothing but an unbuttoned red wizard robe. Trying to tempt him with basic universe domination? Weak.

“Keep acting so arrogant, old man. This is merely a fragment of my power. My true body remains deep within the Warp, completely beyond your reach.” The monster glared at Vane with venomous hatred, spitting out a vicious curse. “One day, Chaos will consume this entire universe. Relics like you will inevitably be broken and turned into playthings for the Prince of Pleasure. When that day comes, I will ensure you suffer a fate far worse than death.”

“Fulgrim, your Forefather is genuinely flattered that you tried to tempt me, but I really hate your attitude and your absolute lack of creativity,” Vane mocked. “And don’t go thinking that just because you’re hiding out in the Warp, I can’t touch you. I’m still going to burn you to ash.”

Vane pulled an ordinary wooden boat out of his inventory and slammed it down, instantly trapping the mutated monstrosity inside its hit-box and rendering it completely immobile. Next, he whipped out the First Flame from the Dark Souls mod and set the monster on fire.

The primary fuel for the First Flame was souls. The more powerful the soul, the hotter and brighter the fire burned. An incredibly twisted, irredeemably corrupted soul like Fulgrim’s was absolute top-tier premium fuel.

The second the monster ignited, it let out a horrifying, agonizing shriek.

Simultaneously, deep within the Palace of Slaanesh in the Warp, blood-curdling screams echoed through the halls.

“No! This is impossible!”

“What kind of fire is this?! How is it burning my true form?!”

—

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