The Tzeentchian sorcerer's smile lasted only a second.
In the next moment, she watched in silence at the man wreathed in golden flames and the woman encased in purple chitinous armor. Their auras were skyrocketing, yet they did not repel one another; instead, they harmonized perfectly.
The sorcerer took a deep breath, the shock on her face melting into twisted appreciation.
"What an exquisite arrangement of fate!" she blurted out, her tone carrying a hint of genuine admiration.
Raynor ignored her praise; the logic of these Tzeentchian lunatics was beyond normal comprehension. He and "Isod" locked eyes for a brief moment. In that gaze, there were no words, only pure, instinctive understanding. The instant the contact broke, they moved.
The pair shot forward simultaneously, leaving behind twin afterimages of gold and violet. Before the sorcerer could blink, they had already plunged into the formation of Chaos Spawn.
A four-meter-tall Chaos Spawn lashed out with its tentacles, the suckers at their tips pulling wide to reveal rows of rotating, jagged teeth. "Isod" did not slow down. She threw a punch, her fist enveloped in purple psychic energy that punched a clean hole straight through the creature's chest. Her hand entered from the front and exited through the back, dragging out blue blood and shredded viscera.
The Chaos Spawn froze. It looked down at the smoking hole in its torso, the cluster of twisted eyes on its head blinking in unison.
Raynor's blade followed immediately. The Sword of Valenia swept through the air, a golden arc of energy severing the monster's neck. The head, a mess of eyes and tentacles, spun through the air before hitting the floor. Golden flames ignited from the wound, devouring the entire corpse. The abomination, born from the warp's corruption, melted like ice in the golden fire—evaporating until not a single trace remained.
The sorcerer's pupils constricted. The Chaos Spawn hadn't been banished; they had been utterly erased. Usually, as manifestations of collective negative emotions, their energy would return to the Warp to await another summoning even if their physical forms were destroyed. But that golden fire was incinerating their very essence.
Raynor landed, his sword-tip pointing to the ground as golden flames danced around him. "Isod" continued her charge, her movements efficient and brutal. A Flamer lunged from the side, spewing a torrent of shifting warpflame. "Isod" pivoted, the fire grazing her armor. She raised her right hand, condensing purple energy into a single point at her fingertip. With a light flick, the energy shot out and struck the Flamer with pinpoint accuracy. The daemon let out a shrill cry before popping like a punctured bubble, dissolving into a shower of light.
Another Flamer tried to flee. "Isod" reached out as if to grasp the air; her psychic power manifested as an invisible hand, yanking the daemon from the sky and smashing it into the floor. A flash of violet light followed, and the Flamer shattered.
Loya watched all of this from the shadows, his face flushed with feverish excitement.
"Yes..." his voice trembled. "This is exactly what I wanted. Master, do you see? What a magnificent combination!"
"Hahahahaha!"
His eyes were glued to the two figures—the golden Raynor and the violet "Isod." To Loya, every movement, every moment of coordination, and every shared glance was a piece of the finest art. His breathing grew heavy, his eyes turning bloodshot.
"This... this is true pleasure..."
In the center of the battlefield, the sorcerer's expression grew increasingly grim. She commanded all her cultists and daemons to swarm the pair, but it was futile. The Flamers circled them, raining down fire, but the flames were either repelled by "Isod's" psychic barrier or cleaved apart by Raynor's sword. Even when fire managed to touch them, it was instantly snuffed out by the dual radiance of gold and purple.
Some Flamers tried to skim the ground for a suicidal explosion, but before they could close the distance, Raynor leaped into the air. A golden flash later, the Flamers were sliced in two. The Flamers were fast, but Raynor and Isod were faster.
As for the Chaos Spawn, they were hardly worth mentioning. They were clumsy, slow, and brainless. Raynor and "Isod" didn't bother entangling with them; they simply dodged and wove through the fray, killing only those that blocked their path. The beasts couldn't keep up and could only trail behind in a futile chase.
The sorcerer gritted her teeth as she watched the two figures draw closer. The blue shockwave persisted, but it was completely ineffective against them. Raynor's golden flames and "Isod's" purple shield kept the temporal distortion at bay. They were almost upon her.
Seeing the threat, the sorcerer leaped onto the Burning Chariot. The Chanting Horror beside her shrieked, frantically muttering incantations. The psychic field around the chariot intensified, amplifying the power of the surrounding Flamers.
The sorcerer pulled an object from her belt—a fragment of withered wood. It was only the length of a finger, pitch black and covered in eerie carvings. But as she gripped it, the carvings glowed with a sickly violet light. With a wild scream, she ignited the wood.
The flames it produced were purple. They rose and twisted, sketching a massive sigil in the air. From the largest rift, violet light began to gush out. A massive arm reached out—purple, burning, and covered in distorted human faces. Then came the shoulders, the head, and the entire torso.
An Exalted Flamer.
Standing five meters tall, it was wreathed in violet fire. Its body was more solid and ornate than a regular Flamer, its flames shifting through a more dazzling array of colors. It had three eyes on its head, each gleaming with a mixture of wisdom and madness.
The arrival of the Exalted Flamer made the air in the hall even more blistering. The lesser Flamers shrieked in joy, their own fires growing hotter and brighter. The Exalted Flamer looked down, fixing its three eyes on Raynor and "Isod." Its mouth curled into a sinister grin. Then, its body began to spin. With arms outstretched, violet fire erupted from its form, creating a massive ring of flame.
The ring expanded, forcefully pushing back Raynor and "Isod" just as they reached the sorcerer. A dozen Flamers seized the chance to surround them, hovering overhead. They opened their mouths in unison, unleashing their most intense fires. Countless colors intertwined into a waterfall of flame that poured down upon the pair.
BOOM!!!
The inferno swallowed them. For a whole minute, the Flamers breathed fire without pause. The temperature in the hall rose to a suffocating level; the air warped, and the corpses on the ground began to char. Finally, the Flamers stopped. They hovered in the air, gasping, looking down at the blackened earth.
There was no movement.
The sorcerer breathed a sigh of relief, a sliver of a smile appearing on her lips. But then, something stirred within the fading embers. A black, semi-spherical shield slowly emerged. Its surface was covered in cracks like over-fired pottery, and it began to flake away piece by piece. Beneath the black shield was a purple psychic barrier.
As the flames fully dissipated, the two figures were revealed. Raynor was holding "Isod," supporting her in mid-air. She was crouched in his arms, her legs coiled like a spring, ready to launch.
Raynor looked up at the Burning Chariot. He took aim and threw.
"Isod" shot forth like a violet missile from Raynor's hands. She moved so fast her trajectory was a blur; the sheer force of her flight sent the ashes of the nearby dead swirling into the air.
The sorcerer's eyes widened in alarm. The Chanting Horror on the chariot shrieked, trying to manifest a psychic shield, but it was too slow. "Isod's" right fist had condensed the maximum amount of psychic energy her current vessel could withstand. The fist glowed with a blinding violet light, and the air around it warped and shattered.
She struck.
A violet psychic explosion swallowed the entire Burning Chariot. The light was blinding, and the resulting shockwave swept through the hall, throwing the nearby Flamers against the walls.
When the light cleared, the chariot was gone. The Horror was gone. But the sorcerer... she was still standing there. No—that wasn't the sorcerer. It was a mere afterimage. The real Tzeentchian sorcerer had already fled the dining hall at some unknown point.
Before the image faded away completely, it smiled at Raynor.
"Truly... a fascinating change, hahaha!"
The laughter lingered in the hall, refusing to fade.