Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Robert Guilliman closed his eyes and temporarily emptied his thoughts. This short rest is just a means, to him, even a month without sleep is nothing. He was letting go at this time for better thinking.

I must end this war, the demons will not mourn the death of our people. Not to mention that they want it, every human soul that dies increases their filthy desires.

But how will it end?

He opened his eyes and looked at the simulated sand table in front of him. He has mobilized all the troops he can mobilize. The Astral Army, the battle nun, he even sent orders to the legal department, and the assassins of the Assassin Court were also dispatched. However, the demons continued to attack.

It was chilling as if their numbers had never dwindled, and all of Terra was filled with shadows of these desecrated creatures. Khorne's bloodletters rage on this sacred land, and these low-level demonic infantry are still formidable opponents for mortals, and they are the main members of Khorne's army.

Perhaps, he should have said so.

The current Khorne demon army.

Those big demons with names, those bloodthirsty demons that ravage the sky, and demonic engines that rival the titans...and, it's just the demons of Khorne. What about the other three?

Guilliman interrupted his cluttered thoughts.

Humans need rest - he might last a long time, but what about those mortal soldiers? They are the main body of the defense line, and the number of Astartes is too small on the entire Terra. A few can't even control the situation of this battle. There are still five days before the support promised by the mage named He Shenyan.

How was he going to let the people of Terra survive these five days? Lasted 120 hours?

Robert Guilliman opened his eyes thoughtfully. He was leaning back in a chair, so when he opened his eyes, he saw directly the portrait of the Emperor. The man in the portrait has a solemn expression, with a hint of contemplation. He held a holy greatsword burning with flames, his golden armor shone brightly, and the same holy halo above his head.

People surrounded him and bowed their knees at his feet.

He hated the word, bowed down—people would bow down to him before this damned religious sepsis spread across the Empire, not because of blind fanaticism, but because they respected the man.

"What do you want me to do, Father?" Guilliman murmured. "You have sent me so many helpers, so many help. But I still can't see what the future looks like, and I can't even find a way to make the people of Terra last for one hundred and twenty hours... …”

Perhaps, Fulgrim was right.

Guilliman burst into a wry smile. He had recovered from that rare emotion and was ashamed of the moment of weakness. A servo skull burst into his study, crunching, its claws carrying a piece of personal processing terminal. Marius Calgar's name was blinking on the personal terminal.

Guilliman picked up the communication, and the calm voice of his Chapter Master came from it: "The Primarch, we have made contact with Captain Thor Galadon. The warp portal in the middle of the hive has been obtained. Basic control."

"Where's Steve?"

"He..." Marius was silent for a while. "The lord had a brief conversation with Captain Galladon half an hour ago, and after helping him dodge a cannonball attack from the Soul Grinder, he went straight to the power plant."

"He didn't take any of his brothers with him, Primarch," Marius said cautiously.

"I know."

Guilliman's calm voice made Marius realize that he obviously knew about it. Guilliman continued: "Don't care about his actions, Steve Rogers has his own minds. He has his own battles to fight, Marius, and you should focus on yours too."

"I see, Primarch."

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Steve looked around the scene with novel eyes.

Dim and pale strips of light were hung every few hundred meters on the dark walls, and the ground he stepped on was made of a fairly cheap metal. It even swayed when stepping on it, which made him a little dissatisfied.

"The infrastructure is worse than my hometown..." he whispered to himself.

Frankly, the place reminded him of Queens—a futuristic version of Queens a hundred times magnified and a hundred times darker. The sound of his footsteps echoed monotonously in the corridor. The power plant, which is at risk of explosion due to unattended maintenance, is still about three kilometers away.

For Steve, it wasn't even a warm-up. He has now undergone a second transformation of the body, with this power armor, maybe even he himself does not know where his limits are. Of course, there are also psychic abilities that are very novel to him.

Above his retinas, a rudimentary map was changing as he moved. He advanced 1.5 kilometers, leaving the long, winding corridor. came to an open place. Compared with the corridor, it is indeed very open, but it is not very clean.

Human blood and corpses covered the entire square, which made Steve's face gloomy. He raised his right hand and clenched it into a fist. A long sword constructed of pure golden flames appeared in his hand. With the light of the flames, he was able to see the whole picture of the square.

This seems to be the place where the raw materials of the power plant are piled up - different from the way he imagined power generation, the people of Holy Terra throw all kinds of useless things into the conversion furnace of the power plant. So the raw materials here are basically equivalent to garbage. Among them, construction waste is the most common.

After all, the lower level of the hive has collapse events every day.

Among these construction wastes, human corpses are scattered everywhere. There are many arms on the cable, but the I-shaped beam over there is full of mutilated thighs. Steve narrowed his eyes, and the anger subsided, replaced by a deep icy cold that cut him off.

"The devil..."

He murmured aloud, and the golden light radiated violently from him. The darkness was completely driven out of the square, and an invisible thing screamed in agony. It sounded like ten million dead people were whispering to you in different voices at different times, and Steve felt 100% disgust.

He snorted coldly, and he threw the flaming sword, pierced the demon's chest, and nailed it firmly to the ground.

This... thing, had the ugliest shape Steve could imagine.

It's beautiful -- and I mean, every part of it is beautiful individually. Fingers, skin, and even the hair that snakes across the naked body, every detail is beautiful. But this stunner that combines the most beautiful details is startlingly ugly.

From its azure blue eyes, you can't see a sense of reason or beauty. Only the deepest depravity and desire were nailed to the flaming sword. The majestic psionic flame scorched its body, causing the skin as warm as white jade to make a hissing hot sound. There was a flush on the demon's face, and it began to smile.

Showing small tiger teeth - smiling, looking at Steve expectantly, and even hooking his fingers at him.

Steve didn't get angry but laughed, he came to the thing and held the flaming sword in his backhand. Turning the blade, the heart-piercing pain made it scream again, and the pain contained in it did not diminish. But in just a few seconds, it turned into a joy.

The creature gasped and let out a groaning sound. A puddle of liquid flowed from the ground on which he was sitting, exuding an unpleasant musky scent.

"His warrior..." It twisted its naked body, craving more pain in itself. "Do you have any more tricks? I want to try it."

Steve just looked at it coldly, without saying a word. Huge pressure swept from behind him, filling the entire square in an instant. Those detached limbs flew up and silently combined in the air into a huge monster full of hands and feet. A purple glow overlaid a golden glow.

It giggled: "If you don't make a move, then come to me! We'll have a good time...hehe, the boring man is not here, old bacon is sitting on his On the chair. Who else can help you?"

"help me?"

Steve sneered and pulled out the flaming sword: "You made a mistake, monster, I'm the one here to help."