Warhammer: I don't want to become a stinky can!

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enough.

Before Angron could recover, Mortarion sneered, then leaped down, only to rise into the air mid-air. He released the silent dead from the mist, causing Angron to lose himself in their grief.

Then came...

Time belongs to the sky.

The flying Mortarion lowered his scythe, staring at Saint Gilles, who had taken off with him. The angel's angry gaze was far more terrifying than his expressionless mask.

Although Mortarion is even more terrifying.

I ask you one last time, Mortarian.

Saint Gilles' voice was icy and chilling.

【why? 】

The archangel's tone was so real... so real that Mortarian even thought he was genuinely questioning him.

Because you made a mistake.

Mortarian raised his scythe and swung it at Sanguiles!

Two figures, one in gold and one in green, immediately began to fight in the air, with feathers and scales falling from time to time. Crimson liquid gushed out from the tear in Mortarion's armor, drying and turning gray in an instant.

The two Primarchs, one wielding a scythe and the other a spear, both long-armed weapons, differed in that the spear's attack was more direct, while the scythe required a curve to hit. The difference in their weapons made it difficult for both of them to fight.

However, beneath the white waves, the roars of the Lord of Red Sand occasionally broke through the confinement, and Guilliman seemed to be about to awaken. Mortarion's movements gradually began to slow down, while Saint Gilles was like a flame that burned ever brighter, shining like the sun.

Seeing this, Mortarion's scythe became increasingly aggressive, trading blows for injuries, causing the original wounds to heal on their bodies. The scythe blade repeatedly reached for their necks, and Saint Gilles seemed to be driven to desperation.

Mortarian saw the bloodshot eyes in the archangel and the fangs that were gradually emerging.

It seems you didn't escape all of this either... my brother.

+Vampire...+

Mortarian sighed softly, abandoning his chest defense and aiming straight for the archangel's neck! Saint Gilles immediately flapped his wings, closing the distance abruptly, and pierced Mortarian's chest with one hand!

The scythe pierced through Saint Gilles' wings, and blood flowed with each flap of the archangel's wings, feathers flying everywhere.

Bright red liquid gushed from Mortarion's chest, splashing onto his golden armor.

The hood concealed Death's gaze, and Mortarian saw the vampire with black skin and red eyes. The once-great archangel's face was now grotesquely contorted, and the severe injury caused him to briefly lose control.

Saint Gilles' vision was filled with crimson as he stared at the blood flowing on his golden armor... He bared his fangs and involuntarily licked it.

【? ! 】

Saint Gilles coughed violently and, as if throwing away trash, threw Mortalian down with a conditioned reflex. Mortalian fell like an insect with its wings plucked, but couldn't help laughing out loud.

He no longer has any blood left.

This is the venom he concocted.

This is what truly hurt the archangel.

He crashed heavily to the ground, and Angron angrily grabbed him by the collar and punched him... What happened to the rule that you don't hit someone who's already fallen in the arena?

Now all we need to do is wait...

Mortarian silently closed his eyes, putting himself into a state of suspended animation—he knew they wouldn't let him die; his brothers might not have much else… but they were certainly indecisive enough.

Or perhaps... they simply couldn't bring themselves to kill Mortarian.

This is truly both Mortalian's fortune and misfortune.

…………

Hades and Guilliman, who were standing in front of Mortalian, fell silent. Mortalian stood up and stretched his legs.

Guilliman's emotions were already at a breaking point.

He proactively said, "I don't recommend continuing."

Killieman took a deep breath.

Thank you for your understanding, Lord of Paleness... I'm sorry, I'd like to be alone for a while.

Of course you can be alone. This is your ship. Hand over the room you prepared for us, and we'll leave immediately.

Guilliman gave them two coordinates. Seeing that Guilliman was in a bad mood, Hades also thought it was time to leave. After comforting Guilliman for a few words, Hades followed Mortalian, who was already waiting in the corridor.

They walked silently aboard the Ultramarines Glory Queen.

"...You've had such a tough time, it's amazing, old Mo."

They just don't believe me.

Motarian said calmly,

【That's all. 】

5.8k, great! That's all.

Chapter 703 Under the Shadow of the Gods

Abaddon...

Abaddon...

"Abaddon..."

Blood and qi, accompanied by a monstrous howl, spewed from the Devourer's mouth and nose. The narrow, grotesque net-like passage stretched endlessly like the bloody maw of hell.

The chainsaw hummed in Kahn's hands, but the sound was no longer as smooth as when it was working well; instead, it was rough and harsh, much like Kahn's current stiff movements.

The World Eater is always fighting.

It never stopped.

The armor on his left arm had long been removed, and blood-stained and rusty chains bound his muscular arm. Kahn walked slowly, trying to regain his strength.

Abaddon committed an unforgivable sin.

Along with the Blood-Corrupted Alpha, he showed Kahn a crude creation modeled after Angron, a muscular monster blessed by the Blood Lord—Kahn couldn't describe his feelings upon seeing that creation.

As if to humiliate the World Eater, the monster even had buzzing nails on its head.

All he knew was that by the time he realized what was happening, the World Eater ships he was leading had already crashed into Abaddon's ships, and he himself was covered in blood, holding a battle axe, his eyes bloodshot.

He was going to kill Abaddon.

Kahn's bones cracked softly, his killing intent so intense, the Blood Lord's whispers murmured in his ear, but Kahn never bowed his head.

He always kept in mind the glory of the Lord of Red Sand.

He kept hunting Abaddon, but Abaddon kept running away.

On one occasion, a blood-soaked Kahn appeared at the bedside of the Great Raider Abaddon, but Abaddon narrowly dodged the blow as Kahn brought it down on his head.

After that, finding Abaddon became difficult.

But Kahn kept hunting him down. He moved through the web tunnels, and sometimes when he seized a Black Legion ship, he would jump directly into the warp to slaughter them. He even escaped death from the Bloodfallen Alpha seven times.

He continued the slaughter, letting the pursuit soak his brain like brain matter, forgetting time and space—only in this way could Kahn escape from the extreme pain for a moment.

He felt pain.

Above Baal, the traitor Karn disobeyed the Primarch's orders for the first time, willing to enter the Blood Prison with the Lord of the Red Sand to eternally guard the fallen archangel.

……

The setting sun in Baal was like blood, and the crimson desert was swept by gusts of sand, with red sand filling the sky, but this was not the wind and red sand of Nuseria.

That imposing figure descended from the dungeon, the final door slowly closing. Kahn smelled blood; Angron's injuries were still not healed.

Within the farewell procession, Kahn suddenly leaped out and bounded toward the last gate to close!

"Father!!!"

The last figure turned back, a relieved smile blooming on his face. A violent emotional shock struck Kahn in an instant, and darkness immediately enveloped him.

The Lord of Red Sand eventually left.

……

Only Kahn remained.

He swung his axe and chopped off another similar head. One of the exits connecting this network appeared to be the Blood Lord's territory, but Kahn didn't care.

He slaughtered madly, almost more so than the followers of the Blood Lord, but Kahn remained loyal. If that person ordered him to lay down the Blood Axe and never kill again, Kahn would do so willingly.

In the years before Angron removed the nails, Kahn did everything he could to help the World Eater's father...

After Angron removed the nails, the Lord of Red Sand imparted even warmer insights to them. Under Angron's leadership, the Devourers were no longer just the war dogs of the past, with strict military discipline. They gained a deeper understanding of brotherhood and the bond between the military and the people.

They should become an army that ensures the weak are not exploited by the strong.

They want everyone to live with dignity, instead of being thrown into the arena and becoming playthings.

During the years he watched Saint Gilles and Guilliman work frantically, Angron even began planning the future for every legion member.

He valued the mental well-being of his warriors, and the Lord of Red Sand always believed that a strong and perfect spirit was the true barrier against chaos.

Angron does not approve of the Emperor's or Saint Gilles' methods. Faith is like making a weak spirit cower under a high wall. It is one method, but the Lord of Red Sand longs for the true strength of every soul.

As his most trusted son, Kahn became the subject of Angron's "psychological experiments." Kahn believed that period would be the best time of his life. They fought side by side, discussing life and tactics. The Primarch was dedicated to enabling Kahn to draw power from his own spiritual world, a power strong enough to resist Chaos.

Angron wanted him to discover his own power.

The Primarch's experience in Nukeria convinced him that even mortals, as insignificant as ants, possess the spiritual power to confront the entire world.

but……

That catastrophe occurred.

Angron left.

Kahn is still alive.

In the years that followed, he continued to work and fight as usual. There was still much to be done, and Kahn could not stop. The powerful mental world he had built up in the past came into play at this moment. Although he was in great pain, Kahn continued to move forward.

Until that day, he saw that blasphemous creation of flesh and blood.

In Kahn's heart, the last thread snapped.

He was certain that his soul and spirit had collapsed for a moment, and then they had reformed, with a raging fire of anger, remorse, and self-reproach that consumed reason and the future, leaving him only with anger and loyalty.

Angron was the only one left in the Empire, and his last psychological experiment failed.

But he also had an effect; despite a thousand years of temptation and corruption, Kahn never wavered once.

Kahn's memories were already blurred; the fallen space marines and demons before him, once diverse, had become singular, gradually resembling each other—

At the end of the memory line, Kahn was even shocked to find that there was green-skinned blood on his axe.

? !

Kahn suddenly shuddered, his steps halting abruptly. He sensed an intense killing intent—before this, only one being had made him so wary.

Blood Red Alpha.

Kahn treaded as quietly as possible. He judged that the Fallen Primarch was around the next corner, possibly a clone, but it didn't matter. Alpha's clones also had the power to kill him instantly.

[Shh. 】

The sound came from behind!

？ ！！

Kahn turned around abruptly and saw a dark face. His body reacted faster than his brain, and he swung his axe at it, but was immediately caught.

Kahn's arm and battle axe looked like tiny toys in the opponent's hands.

Kahn stared in astonishment at the Primarch before him—

The Lord of Fire Dragons had tears in his eyes at this moment, and the Primarch pulled him backward with ease but a little clumsiness.

Kahn, you should go back.

Vulcan spoke softly, as if worried that his actions might hurt Kahn, a stark contrast to his immense strength.

Kahn stared at the Primarch, puzzled, only to find that Vulcan's feet were covered in the mud of Nurgle's Garden—even though the mud had been burned away by the incinerator.

Vulcan appears to have just fought a battle with Nurgle's forces.