The mont the holy sword pierced the Captain's Throne, golden flas erupted like a living entity, frantically spreading along the crevices of the steel.
The machine spirit, corrupted by Chaos for Emperor-knows-how-many years, reacted as if it had suffered the most fatal of impalents, unleashing a shriek so piercing it could be heard even in realspace.
In the next second, the violent psychic might of the Emperor erupted like a bursting dam, cascading through the connection point between the holy sword and the throne.
Under the awestruck gazes of the three retainers, visible golden light raced along various conduits. Wherever it passed, the cogitators and auspex arrays that had been glowing with a sinister purple light instantly crackled. All corruption swiftly lted away like burning wax, replaced by the steady blue light indicating a return to normal function.
Among everyone present, Cybia, being a psyker, felt this the most profoundly.
Her perception pierced through the alloy bulkheads, witnessing the corrupted fusions of flesh and tal lting away in the golden light like snow under the sun, revealing the cold, solid alloy decking beneath.
The blasphemous constructs pieced together from bones and organs, scattered throughout the ship, spontaneously disintegrated under the shockwave of holy energy, turning into fine dust that drifted away in the air.
Even the viscous pus flowing through the ventilation shafts evaporated into harmless steam the instant the golden light touched it. The air across the entire ship grew fresh; the nauseatingly sweet and cloying stench unique to Slaanesh was thoroughly purged.
Within the bridge, Lucia gazed at the holy sword burning with golden light. Feeling the pure and boundless will of the Emperor saturating the air, she trembled with overwhelming emotion.
She clasped her hands over her chest and began to murmur a prayer.
"To be naive yet steadfast is to be shielded by the Emperor. Prayer purges the soul, pain purges the body. Strive for perfection, resting only in death. Better a crippled body than a corrupted mind..."
Finally, Lucia lifted her head and solemnly declared with the absolute authority of a Living Saint:
"It is the Emperor's gaze. It is He, at this very mont, watching over this ship and exercising His almighty power!"
"To be precise, the Emperor's gaze is focused on this holy sword," Rowan's voice echoed calmly from above the bridge.
He raised his hand and gently stroked the blade of the holy sword, the golden flas flickering slightly with his movent. "And my reality-bending ability acts as an amplifier, vastly materializing His power."
Indeed, this was effectively a hot-blooded combo move between Rowan and the Emperor, the kind where the combined power of one plus one was far greater than two.
Leonardo stared at the holy sword radiating divine energy, murmuring in a low voice:
"Regardless, it remains a holy relic of my Master."
Rowan didn't deny it. He simply gripped the hilt and pulled gently. The mont the holy sword left the throne, the golden flas retracted back into the blade, leaving only a faint, flowing halo of light.
He floated down, returning to the side of his squad.
"Now, the purification is complete, but the chaotic corruption has still caused extensive physical damage to the ship. That cannot be undone. We need to confirm whether this strike cruiser is still capable of normal operation."
Rowan paused his steps and raised the holy sword horizontally before him. With a thought, his reality-bending ability activated once more.
As he lightly slid his hand across the blade, Leonardo, Lucia, and Cybia simultaneously felt an energy flood their bodies, elevating their own reality intensities yet another notch.
"This is..."
The group let out a collective gasp of astonishnt.
Cybia frowned, being the first to ask:
"Lord Rowan, such a significant elevation in our reality-bending levels... won't this inflict a toll on you?"
"Not anymore. Why do you think I insisted on forging this sword?" Rowan raised the holy sword to show them, explaining: "This holy sword is rooted in the Emperor's power, combined with my deliberate interference using my abilities. It now possesses a reality intensity equivalent to a Secondary-grade reality architect. However, because this reality intensity is still relatively weak compared to my current state, it won't aid in my subsequent ascension."
"But, the reality intensity imbued within it can be fully partitioned by and used to supply the expenditure needed to elevate your levels. In this way, I successfully avoid any personal drain."
He paused, then continued: "As for its recovery, there's no need to worry. This sword connects directly to the Golden Throne. All expenditures are borne by the Emperor's inexhaustible faith and almighty power. Therefore, after a certain period, its reality intensity will autonomously replenish."
"I see!"
Hearing this, everyone rejoiced.
This was undoubtedly a massive enhancent! They had previously witnessed the terror of reality-bending abilities, marveling at that near-omnipotent power. They never expected to receive such an enhancent so conveniently.
"Although the magnitude of your enhancent certainly won't be as exaggerated as jumping straight from primary to secondary grade, regardless—and especially for you, Cybia, as a psyker—this is already a highly significant upgrade," Rowan added.
"So, what is the na of this holy sword? Have you given it one?" Lucia asked curiously, her gaze never leaving the silver-white longsword radiating divine aura.
Rowan pondered silently for a mont, his thoughts seemingly drifting back to so distant node in ti, before swiftly coming to a decision.
"Its na is—The Ceremonial Sword of Solomon."
After stating the na, Rowan didn't explain its origins. He imdiately shifted the topic, continuing his orders: "Back to the matter at hand. We must first confirm if this ship can still sail. Only then can we make our next move."
"Leonardo, your task is to scout the entire strike cruiser and inspect the damage to all facilities, especially the warp drives and Geller field generators. I need a report in the shortest ti possible."
"By your will, Lord Rowan." Leonardo nodded, complying imdiately.
"Lucia," Rowan looked at the winged Living Saint, "go purge the remaining Chaos cultists on the ship. Rember, if possible, find a way to capture alive any Chaos Space Marines you encounter along the way. They still have their uses."
Lucia fell into deep thought. "Capture them alive? What use could there possibly be in keeping those lunatics, utterly corrupted by the Ruinous Powers?"
The corners of Rowan's mouth curled up slightly, a glint of 'I have a plan' shining in his eyes:
"Because I've thought of another way to recycle that garbage."
Finally, he looked at Inquisitor Cybia: "Your objective is to use warp teleportation to return to our original vessel and try to find any survivors. Also... you too must find a way to capture so Chaos Space Marines alive."
Although her mind was brimming with questions, Cybia simply nodded and accepted the order: "Understood."
Soon, the three departed on their respective paths, leaving Rowan alone on the bridge.
He walked up to the viewport and gazed out at the abyssal cosmos. The holy sword in his hand vibrated faintly, as if resonating with so distant, cosmic will.
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