Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

Heart season.

Being distracted on the battlefield is not a good thing, and ordinary people will only die if they do this. But Angron is different, he is qualified to do this - a Nurgle demon ran from behind him, waving its claws and trying to sneak attack.

The Lord of Red Sand's reaction was very simple. He didn't even turn his head, but simply waved his arm back.

"boom--!"

A huge roar accompanied his movements from above everyone's heads, and a huge cloud of smoke kept rising, dying, and expanding above their heads. It was composed of ice and fire, with manic flames and extremely cold freezing fog scattered and entangled.

, but the fusion of each other produced a more dangerous reaction.

Among all the people, only Angron could clearly see a black spot in the smoke.

The eyepiece enlarged, and a helmet with a familiar style clearly appeared in his eyepiece. It was dilapidated and was swallowed up by the explosion in the next second. Angron sighed. The feeling of heart disappeared, and another emotion emerged from him.

The feeling rising in my heart is a primitive emotion belonging to human beings, an emotion that has been continuously affecting human beings since their birth.

In the dark, a god began to laugh wildly in his ears.

"Shut up, scum," Angron said, and then stepped forward.

The Nurgle demons around him all stopped. Among them were mindless walking corpses, demons bearing the blessings of evil gods, beasts without any intelligence, and the weakest but everywhere.

Nurglings. They did not attack, no longer roared, and the hunched and swollen zombies were the first to melt.

Its twisted and deformed skull was burned to pieces in the furious flames, and Angron began to walk. The golden lightning wrapped around the lightning ax began to gradually turn into scarlet flames, like blood, but completely different. He

He put the giant ax on his shoulder and slowly took off his helmet.

He revealed a face that contained nothing but anger.

He swings an axe.

Waves of fire surged out from his axe, forming a waist-high sea of ​​crimson fire on the ground. Countless demons were burned dry by the flames in an instant, leaving only a few twisted bones screaming - they were all screaming.

The flesh and blood burned into liquid sizzled in the flames, and together with their screams, Angron's nerves were gradually soothed.

Angron just moved forward, forward, and then continued to move forward. The ax kept swinging as he moved forward, tearing apart the ugly flesh and blood, and the corrosive pus and blood splashed in the air, and again in the next second.

They were completely burned by the scarlet flames and turned into the remains of waste in the air, together with their flesh and blood, their bones, and their souls.

He didn't speak, didn't complain, and quietly looked like the same two people as before. But even with such a simple step, no demons could resist him. They kept coming, and the number of demons in the demonic tide was so exaggerated that it was uncountable.

, otherwise the Wanfu Tuan would never have been plunged into such a bitter battle.

However, no demon can stop him.

The simple principle of evaluating strength and weakness loses its meaning at this time. This is not any kind of killing method that the Custodes or the Astartes are familiar with. It is not stabbing the demon's spine with a sword blade or shooting with a bolt gun.

Rotting their heads off is not a matter of psychic spells or orbital bombardment. It is a manifestation of human anger, but the way it appears is terrifying.

The demons were screaming, and the Astartes were speechless. As for the Imperial Guards - they continued to fight, but many of them were staring at Angron's face, their eyes already full of other emotions.

Among these people was Trajan.

He knew the truth, to be precise, he knew part of the truth. But when he really saw that face, some other emotions couldn't help but surge up. The Marshal of the Forbidden Army took a deep breath and shifted his focus.

Attention. He tried to mobilize some remaining fighting enthusiasm in his body so as to quickly drive away these demons.

But he can't.

He couldn't, because a voice was whispering in the head of the Admiral.

+Trajan, get ready.+

+What, Your Majesty?+

+Run...+

Trajan stood there silently. He looked around and found that all the imperial soldiers had stopped moving. At this time, he knew that this message was not just for him. His master would have done the same thing a long time ago, and in

The moment before they go into battle to kill the enemy, his master will use spiritual energy to communicate with each of them and speak each of their names.

Ten thousand years have passed since the last time he saw such a scene.

Then, a voice came from behind them.

Came from the depths between the thrones.

That is not the sound that humans should make. It sounds like a war horn and as loud as thunder. It is like the bone-chilling wind in the coldest place, and it is like the violent sound of a volcano erupting. But if Trajan were to come

To describe it, he would say that it reminded him of a scene he saw in his childhood.

A porter, in order to earn more money, carried three times more goods than others in one trip. When the weight of those things pressed on his spine, this was the sound he made from his teeth. A rattling sound.

, uncomfortable.

Because it was the sound of being overwhelmed and about to die.

The porter died because of his greed and because he had three children to raise at home. His spine was broken by the cargo and he rolled down the cliff. And where was their emperor?

Will he die?

Trajan suddenly felt a great fear that almost made him breathless - His Majesty asked me to run? Why? This is the heart of the empire, the most sacred place, why should I run?

His answer was answered in the next second.

Countless voices came from between the thrones, each different, each with its own will. The voices overlapped to form an explosive echo, and it was like a tide. One wave after another, never ending. Within the demonic tide

Every demon died the moment they heard this sound. They died extremely simply. They let out a short cry, then fell to the ground and turned into ashes.

The scarlet sea of ​​fire faded away, leaving only calm on Angron's face. He picked up the ax and stared closely at the closed door opposite.

The monks of the Imperial Fists have completely lost the ability to speak, even Maximus. His heart rate soared because he could not understand the situation in front of him.

The never-ending sound reached its peak after a long or short time, and everyone present lost the ability to perceive time. One second may be a year, and a year may not even last a second. This

This absurd illusion gave Trajan the urge to laugh. He wanted to lower his head or move his neck, but he couldn't.

No one can move.

The sound stopped.

"well......"

A sigh came from the closed door, and then it was pushed open. The huge door hundreds of meters high was pushed open by two bronze hands. It was rough, with the simplicity of a laborer, and was full of

It’s calluses. It’s not calluses that come from holding a weapon, but calluses that come from holding a hoe and weaving baskets.

A sad face appeared in front of everyone, with black eyes and black hair. Leaves made of metal were woven into a crown on his head. His long hair was tied up and swayed slightly as he walked.

.

This Eurasian barbarian from the ancient Terran era was wearing a long robe. He did not carry any weapons and walked out from between the thrones in a majestic manner.

He moved his fingers without looking at anyone. The golden light enveloped everyone and made them leave here. Trajan tried to leave from the golden light, and at the last moment he mastered part of the power in his body. And the barbaric

But the person glanced at him, causing him to stop his movements and leave the place together with everyone else.

He put his hands behind his back and looked around. Seeing that this hall, which had been built by countless talented craftsmen who spent their lives, was defiled into what it is now, he sighed sincerely. Tears rolled down from his eyes, behind him

, a sharp laugh came from the slightly opened door.

"You're down, you lose."

"No one is a winner." The barbarian responded with a weakness that could not be concealed in his voice. "We will all lose, we will all die. But humans will not."

He waved his fingers again, and golden brilliance surged from inside the door. The blazing temperature and astonishing pressure instantly transformed everything inside into endless light and heat. And the barbarian stood there,

As if waiting for someone.

A burst of blue light appeared, and a man wearing a black robe walked out. He was tall, thin, and pale. His golden eyes were like two suns shining in his eye sockets.

"This seems to be the first time we have talked face to face." The man said with a smile.

"Yes." The barbarian nodded slightly, tears still flowing on his face. "I really hope we can talk somewhere else, somewhere quieter."

"If possible, I hope we don't have to meet like this. Don't blame yourself. Your vision has been blocked by Tzeentch and you cannot see the situation in the palace. This is normal. No one can say that there is no perfect plan."

"I'm not blaming myself." The man's smile became even brighter. "You are about to die, is there any chance to make amends?"

The savage shook his head calmly.

"No, there must be other ways. To ascend to the gods, or transform into other life forms, listen, I have many ways, we can try -"

"——No need." The barbarian interrupted him. "There is no way to change this ending."

"Bullshit ending!" the man suddenly roared. "I am a mage! A cross-border mage! I can walk freely in countless worlds, how could I not find a way for you to survive?! There must be! There absolutely is!"

"Maybe, but I can't wait any longer."

The barbarian smiled, and he spoke like a philosopher: "Living is a burden to me now, Master. I am in too much pain. That chair... exceeded my expectations. In

For thousands of years, it and this responsibility have divided my soul together. Billions of fragments, billions of pain. Now, they come together. Because Tzeentch made me step down from the chair."

"You want to stop here?" the man said slowly, his right hand clenched into a fist behind his back, trembling. "We are almost successful - this war is over, and I have brought so much new power.

,How could you fall here?"

"Because I don't want to be a god." The barbarian said in Chinese, very fluently. "I can't be a human god either. The future of human beings should be forged by their free will, not determined by a ridiculous god. Moreover,

Without me, you will still succeed."

He nodded firmly: "Yes, you will definitely rise."

He Shenyan stared at him in disbelief.

crazy.

He must be crazy.

"Do you have any idea how much chaos would happen if you died?"

"I know, so I'll do another thing."

The barbarian disappeared. In his place was a giant among giants. He wore golden armor with the emblem of unity and empire on it. The buzzing sound in his joints was not the servo sound made by the power armor. It was a

A distant rhythm played by ancient advanced technology.

A long sword was held in his hand. Incredibly complex lines were engraved all over the blade, making the originally dark and copper-colored metal glow with a cold ice blue. It was very gorgeous, placed in the hands of a Terran noble.

, will definitely become a treasure that will be passed down for thousands of years. But in his hands - in the hands of the emperor, no matter how gorgeous this sword is, it looks surprisingly simple.

"What are you going to do?"

The emperor looked at him patiently, like a father looking at his child, expecting him to solve the problems in front of him by himself. At his age, he was certainly qualified to do so. He was still smiling, and there were no tears in his eyes for a moment.

Stop, they flow freely, like a storm. He Shenyan suddenly understood - he was not crying for himself.

After a long silence, he understood.

He Shenyan whispered: "You are going to kill Tzeentch, right? In this way, even if you die, the empire's technology can develop again... With me and the new original body protecting us, sooner or later the empire will

Can stand tall in the Milky Way again."

"Strictly speaking, I am dying." The emperor looked at him sadly. "It was not me who died then, but a god."

"Don't blame yourself, okay?" He took a step forward, raised his hand and put it on the mage's shoulder. "Having power does not mean that you have to put everything on your shoulders. It took me a lifetime to understand this truth.

.I know what you are thinking, but the future of mankind does not need a god like me."

"I must die," he said. "Forgive me."

The emperor disappeared, leaving the mage standing alone with his head lowered, silent.

----------------------------------------

Guilliman - Robert Guilliman, the primarch of the Ultramarines and a god.

He walked off the transport truck with a fighting spirit and the excitement of victory. All these emotions disappeared in the next second, but turned into a deep sadness that made him kneel on the ground in an instant. Aspen

The Tats looked at their genetic father blankly, and Insel stepped forward in fear, trying to help him up, but failed.

Guilliman began to cry slowly - as he cried, a golden sun slowly rose over Terra. People may regard this as the Emperor's apparition, but only a few people understand that this is him

farewell.