Man in Warhammer, starting Primarch

The red-armored warrior was about to cut off Abaddon's swollen head.

"What would happen if Abaddon didn't die here?" Horus, who was tied up in chains, suddenly asked the scholar.

"The future you see will be changed, and everything will be unpredictable." The scholar replied.

Horus was silent. When he stopped resisting and calmed down the anger and confusion in his heart, the shackles on his body also freed him.

"Let me kill him with my own hands." He made up his mind and said to the scholar.

"Oh?" The scholar showed a trace of surprise. Horus's choice did not seem to be in the fate he had set.

"Meahahahaha." He laughed out loud. Horus's unexpected choice seemed to make him deeply happy.

"The world is unpredictable, and blessings and disasters depend on it. Suffering is followed by sweetness. Fate makes all beings fearful and empty. It is vicious and cruel in a thousand twists and turns, and everything is in vain."

Horus did not speak.

His companion was wise and close to a demon, but most of the time he was a little neurotic.

He didn't understand what the scholar was saying, nor did he want to understand.

Then he saw the scholar hand a crystal dagger to him.

"Hope is a deadly poison in the universe. It will prolong the pain and make the dying suffer." The scholar stopped laughing and said meaningfully.

Horus took the dagger, and his eyes looking at Abaddon became more and more determined.

Abaddon fell to the ground with bruises all over his body, and unclean blood flowed out of his wounds. With the rapid weakening of his vitality, the blessing of the gods had a more serious impact on him.

He became confused and unintelligent, panting violently, lingering on, and no longer had the charm he once had.

With a "puff", the dark warlord ushered in his exit. There was no vigorous war, no wonderful competition, but in a room full of blood, the exquisite crystal dagger pierced his swollen and smelly body.

Just as easy as a steel needle piercing into a ball, his body that once had endless power quickly shrank.

In the last moment of his life, Abaddon seemed to finally have precious clarity. He woke up, rationality adorned his eyes, and he looked at Horus with these clear eyes, with complex sadness in his eyes.

"I will not apologize to you, nor will I ask for your forgiveness. We are both equally arrogant, father." He said to Horus,

"Stay away from these people, they are not your companions, stay away from the power and ambition that do not belong to you, and don't let the tragedy happen again to us father and son."

"Stay away from them!"

Abaddon used his last life to warn Horus.

He died at the hands of his biological father's blood relatives.

Horus watched his demise in silence. He originally thought that he had no feelings for this heir, but when this moment came, the sadness in his heart was still difficult to suppress.

Blood relatives killed each other, and blood was rebellious. This is the greatest tragedy in the galaxy.

His whole body was shrouded in a sad atmosphere, but he did not notice that the four companions he trusted were staring at him with different expressions.

There were jokes, mockery, disdain, and pleasure. But no one sympathized with him.

On the other side.

In the huge subspace storm called the Eye of Terror, countless entities were deeply afraid of this place, and no one dared to approach this place.

But at this time, a fleet of the Human Empire was rampaging here.

Just like the repeated invasions of demons against humans.

In the turbulent subspace, the Imperial Fleet also blew the horn of counterattack.

These wrinkled hulls and gorgeous huge shapes quickly jumped in the bizarre subspace.

One after another, the giant ships were lined up, like a coherent and huge Gothic building complex, as if they were churches themselves, but were transformed into warships.

They shuttled through the dark but colorful sea of ​​souls, the violent and turbulent subspace storms, and the hideous blasphemous creatures, all in vain under the obstruction of their mental force field.

Plasma flames sprayed from the tail of the giant ship to provide power for the huge warship.

At the forefront of this fleet is a flagship with a golden double-headed eagle emblem.

More ships are arranged behind the flagship, and more than a hundred giant ships are arranged in a sharp arrow array, like a sharp spear about to pierce the enemy.

There are thousands of soldiers on each giant ship. What they have to do is to spread the will of destruction of the warmaster and the emperor equally to every demon world.

Destruction is the end, the gospel, and the fire that washes away sin.

This huge fleet has spread the gospel of the empire to dozens of demon worlds. In the blazing flames, the unclean and filthy worlds were burned.

A large number of high-level demons were captured and locked in iron cages for strict guarding.

"We will bring the fire of destruction to all uncleanness."

This is what Saint Efilar said in the firelight, and no imperial official doubted the authenticity of this sentence.

Under the oppression of the fleet, dozens of dark stars have been ignited by the fire of destruction.

Countless demons either died tragically or were imprisoned in warehouses. The giant ship sailed on the sea of ​​souls, and the wailing of thousands of captured demons was always in the ears.

But no one found it harsh. On the contrary, being able to hear the wailing of demons was a great enjoyment for every imperial soldier, and they were very tolerant of this noise.

With their strong ships and cannons, they were like reckless men charging through the swamp, but there was nothing capable of stopping them.

They are invincible, and even the devil's stronghold will be ignited and destroyed in an instant.

A psyker from the Astropathic Chamber quickly walked through the corridors of the Devotion, holding an electronic board reflecting a ghostly white light on his chest.

He is an ascetic, and his body is very thin. Years of asceticism have left no room for fat on his body.

The runes representing the Emperor are carved on his bald head, declaring his devotion to the Emperor to all.

He serves a great cause and is following a brave fleet that dares to attack the warp.

He is well aware of the dangers involved, but like most people here, he does not care about the dangers that may come at any time. If necessary, he will do it for the Emperor, the Warmaster, and the common ideals of all mankind. Give your own insignificant life.

He walked briskly through the winding, maze-like corridors.

Passing through the main gun deck that exuded thunderous noise and a stinky smell.

Then he walked all the way until he came to the rest cabin of the Astartes monks.

Those tall Primaris Space Marines did not complain about his arrival.

The Astartes showed respect to the mortals who had a loyal faith, and then gave way so that the other party could move on.

When he passed through the corridor filled with honorary battle flags and the Avenue of Glory filled with statues of war commanders, he finally arrived at his destination.

The office where the commander-in-chief of this fleet, the living saint Efilar, is located.

At this time, the representative of the Warmaster's will was still diligently watching the hologram in front of him. A group of senior military leaders were sitting on both sides of the office, making various arrangements through the virtual realm communication system.

The arrival of the Astropath psyker interrupted the conversation between Efilar and the military leader.

"What's the matter?" Saint Efilar saw him immediately and asked him.

"Sir, I feel a little strange. I have been having a hard time calming down these days. This is an extraordinary intuition, and it may indicate a real crisis. I boldly make an application to you. Maybe we should return and report what happened here. To Warmaster Dukel. In my prediction, the location of Abaddon and the Spirit of Vengeance is already a place of trouble and is no longer suitable for us to go. "

Efilar did not answer immediately, but fell into deep thought.

The prophecies of the psykers cannot be ignored, but the fleet is now halfway through its journey, and evacuation is not an easy task.

But the interrogation priest from the Dark Angels on the side couldn't tolerate this proposal.

Asmodai was worried that the psyker's suggestions would shake the Saint's determination to conquer the Chaos Warmaster, so he spoke first,

"Don't worry, sir. We have obtained enough accurate information. The people following Abaddon are just a bunch of insignificant people. This is the perfect opportunity for us to cut off his head and present it to Lord Dukel." . Warmaster Duker will be delighted by this. If this opportunity is missed, Abaddon's comeback will definitely cause huge trauma to the empire, and Warmaster will also be angry. "

As a senior interrogator, Asmodai has a profound understanding of human beings. In order to prevent Efilar from changing his original intention, he mentioned Duker three times in one sentence.

He knew very well that only the joy of the Warmaster was the highest reward pursued by the saint in front of him.

"As long as we can present Abaddon's head to the Warmaster, the glory of this victory will once again add to the glory of the Warmaster. His achievements are eternal and unparalleled. Millions of worlds in the Empire will be convinced of the Warmaster, and thousands of wills will unite in the Warmaster. Under the Warmaster, we will see the greatest commander in human history walking among the stars."

Hearing Asmodei's words, Efilar knew the purpose of what he said, but when she thought of the picture the other party painted, her flawless and holy face could not help but reveal her longing for this future.

As long as they can win the warp battle and successfully kill Abaddon.

The Warmaster's authority in the empire will rise to an unparalleled level. No one will dare to refute the Warmaster's will. Thousands of wills will be united, and the shared dream of mankind will be within reach.

This is a great good thing for the empire and everyone.

Efilar recalled the inexhaustible courage that was always burning in Dukel's eyes, and finally made up his mind.

"There is no need to worry about the dangers ahead. When we step towards the stars, we have already made up our minds to die, right?" She looked at the psyker and continued,

"If our humble bodies can contribute to a greater human empire, if our lives can achieve that great cause, how can we tolerate ourselves standing still?"

"We have nothing to fear even in the land of thousands of swords, as long as we have the chance to fulfill the ideals shared by the Emperor, the Warmaster, and all mankind. A future without darkness and pain for mankind is what we sacrifice our lives for. s future."

In Efilar's devout eyes, the psyker saw the saint's determination, and he lowered his head in shame.

He was convinced by the saint that if he could use his meager life to fight for a bright future for mankind, then how could death be considered a bad thing?

The army led by Saint Efilar all possessed extraordinary willpower and strong psychological endurance.

They had long been prepared to sacrifice themselves for the Empire. The huge fleet continued to move forward in the subspace, shuttling through indescribable dimensions, heading towards the coordinates of Abaddon.

They vowed to eradicate this traitor who launched thirteen consecutive black expeditions against the Human Empire.

But all this was a vicious conspiracy.

Everything was in the plan of the Lord of Destiny.

The Supreme King did not lie, and the cultists did not lie either. All the information interrogated by Asmodai was absolutely true.

But what they learned was what the Lord of Destiny wanted them to know.

Abaddon had died before they arrived.

This time, what they were going to meet was a more dangerous and terrifying existence than Abaddon. They were facing the former warmaster, Horus, who had more powerful power and a more far-reaching strategic vision.

Horus did not care about Abaddon's warning before his death.

Or maybe he cared, but he didn't show it.

At the suggestion of his friends, Horus united Abaddon's legion and took this dark power for himself.

He had a stronger hand than Abaddon and was far more powerful than Abaddon, so it was not difficult for him to do this.

All the demons who tried to rebel were ruthlessly torn apart by Horus.

Horus seemed very impatient, although he also found that these four companions were not as trustworthy as he imagined.

But he knew that he had entered the game of racing against time with Duker, and he had no time to think about these.

In order to prevent Duker from dragging the universe into ultimate destruction, the Chaos Demons were also a force that he could use.

As the demon legions arrived and joined his army, Horus also noticed the arrival of the Ephirar fleet.

In order to kill with one blow, Horus did not choose to confront the Imperial Fleet head-on, but played a trick.

Horus was the first Primarch to return in public, and the first Primarch to participate in the Great Crusade.

Before the Great Crusade began, he followed the Emperor and studied for decades. That was his happiest time. At that time, the Emperor was like a patient and kind father, teaching him tirelessly.

The Emperor taught Horus how to be a perfect commander while preparing for the Great Crusade.

It can be said that Horus received the most love from the Emperor and learned the most from the Emperor.

He then participated in the Great Crusade of the entire human empire and grew up with the legion.

Although he had failed before, his military talent and personal bravery were obvious to all.

When the fleet of Saint Ephilar drove into the ambush circle that Horus had set for them in advance without knowing it.

Horus immediately gave the order.

In an instant, the sea of ​​souls went wild.

The crazy waves came one after another, seemingly without stopping.

The turbulent vortex and the crazy storm.

In just a moment, the sharp imperial fleet like a spearhead suffered a head-on blow.