Chapter 41: Two Strikes for Erebus

Aaron pulled his clothes tighter around him and strode alongside Lorgar as they headed toward the Peak of Skulls ahead.

He looked around, searching for any sign of danger: "What is the crisis this time? I don’t see any enemies, and that annoying Erebus isn’t around either."

Lorgar maintained a calm smile: "He is at the very front, already inside that gargantuan beast’s skull."

Aaron looked ahead at the beast’s skull, which was almost the size of a small hill, and remarked: "Not long ago, Father and I saw the skull of a beast come to life, though it wasn't this large. It was at most a chair, certainly not a house."

Lorgar looked intrigued and asked, "Were you on an adventure? Does your world have demons as well?"

Aaron, as if a floodgate had been opened, quickly recounted his recent experiences, including the dreams he had about his other two brothers.

Lorgar raised a hand to stroke his chin, which was as smooth as his scalp: "Ultramarine, Guilliman... Hmm, I have an inexplicable dislike for that name."

Aaron walked with his hands clasped behind his head, taking long strides: "Oh, Guilliman is a decent enough fellow, just a bit stubborn and prone to using long-winded speeches to explain everything he intends to do."

Lorgar teased, "And what kind of person am I in your eyes, brother?"

Aaron shook his head, pondering carefully for a moment before replying: "In my eyes? It’s hard to describe. You’re a good person too. My brothers, they must all be fine men."

Lorgar shook his head with mock disappointment: "Alas, it seems I haven't left much of an impression. By the way, you mentioned the other brother—he has hair?"

The two bald men stood together, and Aaron explained earnestly: "I should have twenty-one brothers. Malum, that Ultramarine, told me that about a quarter of them are bald. Even Guilliman and Jaghatai—one has a crew cut, and the other has a braid in the middle of his head, like a ponytail at the back."

"On the contrary, Father and Mother both had flowing hair. Perhaps they ate something wrong when they were having children. Never mind, being bald saves the trouble of washing my hair."

Lorgar rubbed his own smooth scalp and muttered: "Erebus once suggested that he would be willing to help me carve scriptures into my skin."

Aaron said viciously: "I knew that guy was rotten to the core. He’s probably been possessed by the Dark Gods or those demons already."

Lorgar nodded: "So, the test for him has arrived. If he faces this warrior on the Peak of Skulls, Kharn-bos, without fear of death, then he may still be worth considering. If he shows his true colors, then this will be his final resting place."

Lorgar sighed: "After all, his standing among us is quite high; I must find a reason."

Aaron studied the path ahead, saying in a low voice: "Lorgar, why don't we just—" He made a throat-slitting gesture. "There’s no one around, and I’ve disliked him for a long time. Then you can finish off Kharn-bos, and we’ll just say he died a hero."

Lorgar seriously considered the feasibility, then looked regretful: "I brought an honor guard when I left; they would see. A true lapse in judgment; I hadn't considered that."

Aaron was disappointed: "Fine, then we can only hope that this Kharn-bos is strong enough to finish off Erebus in one blow."

Lorgar tracked Erebus's trajectory, pacing their ascent.

Three hours later, they reached the dark fortress atop the Peak of Skulls, a massive bone structure. It appeared to be a blend of ancient beast skeletons and brick-and-mortar, lacking the structural integrity of a proper stone castle. Dozens of barefoot Dark Apostles in blood-stained robes walked through the fortress, maintaining its function. Unlike other dark fortresses surrounded by villages and towns with the smoke of human life, the only combatant on the Peak of Skulls was the one waiting for challengers: Kharn-bos.

He was a man of average stature, wearing clothes sewn from animal hides and holding a wooden-handled iron axe. One side of the axe blade was blunt. In the past, this master of the dark fortress would sit upon his throne, waiting for challengers, needing neither food nor rest.

Today, the gates constructed of massive ribs were pulled open by slaves, groaning with a screeching sound. It seemed as if the unstable structure might collapse at any moment; the weathered bones groaned against one another in a final, stubborn protest.

Bos snapped his head up, revealing a skull-like face devoid of skin. He had been dead for decades; it was Kharn, the transcendent entity responding to him, who sustained his urge to battle. Bos stood up from his throne like a puppet that had sat motionless for years, the steps beneath him cast from the skulls of humans and beasts alike. He wore rusted iron armor, descended slowly, and pulled two long blades from the base of the stairs.

"Challenger, state your name!"

Above the gloomy sky of the Peak of Skulls, a red vortex began to churn and gestate, responding to Bos.

Before the open gate, Erebus swallowed hard and gripped his small mace. He knew Lorgar’s guard was not far behind; now was the time to demonstrate his loyalty and dispel any suspicion.

Erebus mimicked the courage and humility of the true Erebus he had seen in the past and stepped forward: "I am the envoy of the One True God, the vanguard for the Saint Lorgar!"

Bos shook his neck, which looked ready to fall off. The red clouds from the sky descended, covering his face and manifesting a demonic visage: "No! I asked for your name! Among the myriad living beings of this world, all fight for themselves!"

*Boom! Boom!*

The iron armor stomped onto the ground. This figure, who was not even as tall as Erebus when standing straight, cast the shadow of a boundless, blood-red demon. "Challenger, tell me your name!"

Erebus took a deep breath. He had never merged with Kales, but he understood the nature of the fusion between Dark Apostles and demons. An entity like Bos, who could retain his own will after death, was, in the right environment, a formidable warrior capable of competing to be a Chaos Champion, or even a Daemon Prince.

He refused to be outdone and roared: "I am Erebu—"

*Boom!* Before his declaration was complete, massive blood-red wings exploded outward, framing the small, diminutive figure of Bos. The twin blades in his hands were likewise swallowed by red light.

A powerful demon was descending in its true form, embracing Bos from behind rather than merging with him. A roar of fury rolled forth: "Erebus! How dare you appear before me!"

It was the voice of Kharn.

"Ah! Deceiver! Betrayer! Die!"

The complete Kharn-bos dove downward, stirring up countless red phantoms in the air. The twin blades slashed down, their momentum dragging the blood-red shadow behind him to mimic the strike. Both blades hacked into Erebus.

A moment later, only a lonely, bald head remained, clutched in the hand of the near-fully manifested demon.

"I will make you suffer eternal torment, forever a toy in my hands! Not like before, when I merely watched Horus tear the skin from your face."

Following this event, which completely deviated from the timeline, the Master of Skulls high upon his Brass Throne did not care. Instead, a series of bird-like chirps echoed through the labyrinth, sounding both sorrowful and joyful:

"Hee, Erebus is gone, hee-hee—"

"Coo-coo-coo—The Great Plan, the Great Plan. Horus, Horus, damn it! Who let Kharn see Erebus early!"

"You actually ascended Kharn! Damn it, damn it! If Erebus must live, I’ll have to take this disgusting thing—*wuu-wuu-wuu* (the sound of a bird crying)."

(Erebus would go on to kill a Word Bearer named Argel, a model of coexistence who had fallen and been possessed by a demon yet retained his humanity, and whom Erebus had become close friends with. Argel had a dear friend in Kharn the Betrayer; when Kharn launched his revenge and execution, Erebus was forced to flee.)