As Rowan's words fell, the reactions of the group varied.
Lucia believed Rowan's words almost instantaneously, her face revealing irrepressible joy.
As if she had expected this all along, Cybia displayed no particular reaction.
As for Leonardo, when he heard this news that sounded like an absolute fantasy, his first reaction was sheer disbelief.
If those vile entities of the immaterium could truly be disposed of so easily—and eradicated at the very root—how could they possibly continue to plague the Imperium of Man so endlessly?
But swiftly, Leonardo seed to recall sothing. The skepticism on his face gradually dissipated, replaced by deep contemplation.
The warp daemon possessing the Chaos Space Marine earlier had reacted with extre, violent terror when faced with the absolute end brought by the plasma.
Furthermore, just monts ago, that Slaaneshi Daemon Prince had even attempted suicide rather than die at Rowan's hands.
Viewed in this light... it seed there was indeed corroborating evidence.
"You... possess the ability to permanently obliterate daemons?"
Speaking with great difficulty, Leonardo coughed a few tis.
Even though his body was still being violently corroded by the highly virulent Slaaneshi venom—a tornt exceedingly difficult to endure even with the ironclad willpower of a Custodian—he managed to force the words out.
"Naturally. I believe that much is obvious."
Rowan spoke, his gaze sweeping over Leonardo and Lucia as he slightly flexed his will.
In the next microsecond, the wounds and corrosive warp-venom afflicting both of them vanished completely, as if ti itself had reversed.
Freed from the suffocating burden of exhaustion and injury, Leonardo's transhuman brain instantly fired back to peak efficiency. Nurous details he had previously overlooked rapidly coalesced, surfacing within his mind.
"Lord Rowan, based on the previous engagents, would I be correct in understanding..."
He spoke slowly, carefully asuring his words, a trace of caution in his tone. "...that you require the harvesting of souls through slaughter in order to elevate your own capabilities?"
"Correct."
Given his blatant displays just monts prior, this was a fact that could no longer be concealed. Rowan had ntally prepared for this and admitted it candidly.
Ever since ascending to a Tertiary-grade reality architect, his underlying confidence had surged exponentially.
Hearing Rowan's words, the other three exchanged glances, a bizarre, unsettling sensation simultaneously welling up in their hearts.
Requiring a massive quantity of souls... did that not make his thods identical to the Ruinous Powers of Chaos?
The mont this thought surfaced, the three veterans, possessing vast experience battling Chaos, almost simultaneously associated it with highly unsavory concepts—such as the blasphemous dogma of "Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne."
However, these thoughts did not linger in their minds for long before being swiftly and violently banished.
The God-Emperor / The Emperor / My Master naturally has His own calculations. There must be a profound underlying purpose; we need only obey.
After a mont, Cybia spoke up, asking a critical question:
"Has your current evolution reached its absolute limit?"
Rowan shook his head: "No. I have rely satisfied the requirents for a single ascension threshold. The subsequent stage will be exponentially more demanding than the last."
"How many souls are required?"
"...Approximately one billion."
Rowan focused slightly, sensing his own state, before answering earnestly, "It requires the consumption of one billion human souls."
Noticing the subtle, highly peculiar expressions that surfaced on the faces of the three, he imdiately emphasized: "Yes, I an the equivalent weight of one billion baseline human souls. There are no other esoteric requirents. Furthermore, it is not restricted strictly to humans; the souls of xenos or daemons are entirely acceptable substitutes."
"That... that requirent is far too simple, is it not?"
Even claiming to be a Puritan Inquisitor, Cybia was profoundly tempted by the prospect, pressing further: "Are you implying that by rely sacrificing one billion souls, you—an entity whose combat efficacy already approaches the level of a Primarch—can continue to elevate your might?"
It was as if a massive red button had been placed directly in front of them.
Pressing it would instantly erase one billion Imperial citizens, rewarding them with the return of a loyalist Primarch.
For any citizen of the Imperium, be they an Astartes, a Battle Sister, or an Inquisitor, the imdiate, overwhelming impulse would be: I will mash that button until it breaks.
To not press it would practically be an act of treason against the Imperium.
"No, do not celebrate just yet."
Rowan shook his head, instantly pouring cold water on their fanaticism. "If I wish to accomplish the next stage of ascension, aside from the sheer volu of souls, there is another highly problematic condition. It is currently giving a slight headache."
"What condition?"
The hearts of the group collectively tightened.
"A volu of one billion souls is indeed not an insurmountable hurdle."
Rowan explained, "Permanently terminating that Slaaneshi Daemon Prince just now provided with a soul-weight equivalent to exactly one hundred million baseline humans in a single breath. If we subsequently reinforce a few larger-scale warzones, accumulating the remaining quota will not be exceedingly difficult."
"However, the secondary requirent is far from simple."
His tone shifted. "My next ascension requires to acquire a specific conceptual asset—Authority."
Cybia and the other two exchanged glances, evidently failing to comprehend the true aning of the term.
What exactly was 'Authority'?
"Never mind. I have my own contingencies regarding this matter; you need not trouble yourselves with it," Rowan sighed and said.
If his previous journey—elevating his reality-bending dominion from primary to tertiary grade—could be considered a form of "Completion," then his subsequent path of progression should be classified as "Ontological Ascension."
In Foundation terminology, "Ascension" referred to the transition from a mortal state into divinity. If Rowan wished to attain the rank of a Quaternary-grade reality architect—an entity functionally indistinguishable from a living god—he had to acquire "Authority," a conceptual capability intrinsically linked to the divine.
However, in the extraordinarily endowed universe of Warhamr, Rowan deduced, based on his prior knowledge and observations, that he could likely approach this from two distinct angles:
The first being the immaterium, and the second being realspace.
For instance, minor deities of the warp—which included the warp essence of the Primarchs—or the gods of the material universe, the C'tan Shards. All of these fell within viable paraters. As long as he could acquire the essence of just one, his path to ascension would be entirely unobstructed.
In Rowan's view, if he were truly desperate for ascension, the most brutally efficient thod would be to imdiately travel to Macragge in the Ultima Segntum and run a blade straight through its most famous local tourist attraction: the blue giant who had been sleeping silently in a stasis field for ten millennia, the Lord of the XIII Legion, Roboute Guilliman.
Naturally, this was the absolute worst of all possible strategies. Rowan would practically never choose this route.
Pondering for a brief mont, he swiftly recalled a specific conflict destined to occur in the future between the Imperium of Man and the Necrons.
925.M41, the World Engine War.
The C'tan Shard of Yggra'nya, the World Shaper.
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