I write apocrypha in Warhammer

Serving the Dark Gods wholeheartedly is the path that the Primarch Lorgar led them on, and it forms the basis of their power. It belongs to the political correctness of the Word Bearers.

O'Sullivan knew this and was powerless to disobey.

He came here specifically, hoping to more or less extract some resources from the "Hand of Destiny" so that they could produce more demon engines and enhance the planet's defense.

However, Erebus ultimately rejected his request and was completely obsessed with the so-called will of the Chaos Gods.

Therefore, O'Sullivan could only sigh and change the topic: "What about the Red Pirates? The main force of the empire is obviously going after them. What attitude should we adopt towards them?"

Although the Word Bearers and Luft Huron had a grudge before, that was when Huron was still leading the Star Claws, and the two sides were already on hostile terms.

But now that we all belong to the Chaos camp, facing the menacing puppet emperor's lackeys, even if we cannot cooperate sincerely, coordinated operations are still a good choice and are in the common interests of both parties.

"Those guys are not devout in their belief in the gods. They have no courage, no vision, and not enough ambition. That's why Huron became Abaddon's backup - the fate of the Red Pirates does not lie with the Dark Gods. within the arrangements.”

Erebas had a very low opinion of the tyrant Badab, and his contempt was palpable.

In fact, even if he looked at the entire galaxy, there were few people he looked up to.

"Does this mean we can contact them?" O'Sullivan tried to ask.

Blackheart Huron is a very pragmatic leader, and he will definitely not object to this. If the two of them can rely on this opportunity to resolve their differences, that would be a great thing.

"This means that we don't need to care about their life or death. They are just a group of unknown people. They attract enough firepower for us. They don't even have much space for them on the High Sky. But we are different. We are deeply influenced by the gods. With blessings, we shoulder a sacred mission—we are the key to solving this incident!”

Having said this, Erebas felt extremely confident, as if he had returned to the glorious days of the Great Rebellion.

He disrupted the empire, and he overturned the destiny of the primarch.

If Horus hadn't forced him to cause trouble and ordered the Khorne demon Ka'banha to kill Saintlys, he would have even been able to drag the archangel into the Chaos camp. Why would he have allowed the tyranny of the false emperor to continue to linger for ten thousand years?

However, the stupid Wolf Shepherd not only messed up his plan, but when he argued with him, the guy actually peeled off his face in front of everyone and humiliated him in every possible way.

It's no wonder that Horus died in the end. It's really hard to persuade the damn ghost.

And he, Erebus, is still alive and well, and his name and deeds are sung by the highest heaven...

Unlike the enthusiastic Erebus, O'Sullivan was muttering in his heart.

Whenever the major forces in the galaxy mention the Maelstrom, they will think of Huron's Red Pirates. Their rise is so fast and their scale of development is staggering.

People even directly called that man the Lord of the Maelstrom.

The Word Bearers took root in the Maelstrom thousands of years earlier than the Red Pirates. They were still direct members of the Seventeenth Legion, but their influence now was far less than that rising star.

At this point, Erebus is still resting on the glory of the past, looking down on others as nobodies.

"Will the situation of the Word Bearers really get better because of this?" O'Sullivan couldn't help but ask.

It is said that the subspace and the physical universe are two mirrors that reflect each other. If they are so powerful in the supreme world, they should also be successful in the physical universe.

"Are you questioning me, Dark Apostle?"

There was no hint of joy or anger in Erebus's tone, but the dim light cast in his eyes was like a poisonous snake.

"Don't dare, my lord."

O'Sullivan quickly lowered his head and replied in a panic.

"For you young people, those glorious years have indeed passed for too long, but it doesn't matter. Next, you will be able to see my connection with the dark gods and understand how correct what I did is. After all, I am the mortal closest to them, and I am the worthy king of heretics."

Erebus was not angry, but said with a smile.

Practical actions are always more effective than mere statements.

When he reveals his miracle in front of everyone, all doubts will disappear.

And there is no doubt that he will bring another victory to the dark gods.

While the two were chatting, a Word Bearer ran in and informed everyone that the preparations for the ceremony were ready.

At this moment, in the square outside the temple, countless slaves in ragged clothes were huddled together and shivering.

The various sufferings they have experienced have turned them into human beings, and fear and despair are the only emotions they can feel.

Soldiers of the Word Bearers were waiting around, watching them with guns and ammunition. Anyone who tried to resist would be killed immediately, without any possibility of escape.

In a world full of cultists and demons, where can you escape even if you want to?

Of course, obedience only means living longer.

The fate faced by these slaves was so dark and cruel that not even the light of the God-Emperor could shine upon them.

They can only keep chanting the name of the Lord of Humanity silently in their hearts, praying that their souls after death will not become the playthings of those evil spirits.

As the Chaos runes on the outer wall of the temple gradually lit up, a huge massacre dedicated to the dark gods officially began.

As the most outstanding divine stick and the spokesperson of Chaos, the Word Bearers are well aware of the mysteries of demonology, and the preparations for the sacrificial ceremony are absolutely exquisite.

Those who were cut down by swords and axes were dedicated to Khorne, those who were killed by spells were dedicated to Tzeentch, those who were brought down by poisonous gas were dedicated to Nurgle, and those who were killed by sonic waves were dedicated to Slaanesh.

Every god is taken care of, which is the basis for the Word Bearers to be so blessed by the High Heaven.

For a time, millions of wails resounded across the sky, and the intense pain set off turbulent waves in the subspace.

The demons enjoy this feast wantonly and feel delighted. Their evil laughter is like a ecstasy song, which is enough to take away the hearts of those who listen.

Under the extreme violence, fragile lives were lost one after another, and the square soon became littered with corpses and rivers of blood.

"Okay, the ceremony is about to begin, and it's time for you to leave here. Remember, no matter what happens, don't disturb us."

Erebus held up a book full of chaos knowledge and prepared to implement his plan.

"As you command, my lord."

O'Sullivan nodded helplessly and walked out of the room.

When he left the room, the heavy door was immediately closed.

The Chaos runes on the gate give it impenetrable defense, making it difficult to force it open without the firepower of super-heavy equipment.

The visit yielded nothing, much to O'Sullivan's dismay.

At this point, he could only sincerely wish that Erebus's plan would succeed, and pray that the enemy would not cause them too much trouble.

But obviously, misfortune is the style of the Warhammer universe.

Shortly after the Word Bearers' ceremony began, a huge greenskin fleet suddenly appeared above Garmyk.

The Golden Beard Pirates carry the will from the smart boy, just waaagh! Towards the demonic world below.