Pronounce Myself an Incarnation of the Purest (event)
The Omitiloi of the realm have convened to weigh my claims, sequestering themselves for the night in prayer and contemplation. At the crack of dawn, they emerged and made their proclamation; I am the Purest incarnate.
After all, where else could my strategies have come from? Who else could have steered my sword as I slaughtered barbarian defilers? How else could I have been blessed with victory upon victory? No, there is no other explanation than divine inspiration—no, divine incarnation.
Let the priests believe what they may, as long as they tell my soldiers to worship me by spilling heathen blood. Call me god-made-flesh, as long as you obey my every command. And kiss the banner of the Black Sun as much as you want, so long as it flies over every city of the Empire.
Worship or not, so long as you obey.