Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

Johnson took a deep breath.

He felt the circulation of the air and carefully smelled the smell of blood and decay carried by the cold breeze.

He loved this feeling.

Ever since he first rode a giant horse and galloped through the jungles of Caliban with a new attitude and identity, he had loved this feeling, this most primitive smell of blood flowing and corpses rotting.

It made him feel relaxed.

The Lord of the Dark Angels gently pushed open the door in front of him that was engraved with countless blasphemous decorations. He knew what he was about to face, from the dazzling array of sculptures and portraits on the knight's castle in the past to the one after another in the deep forest of Caliban. The brutal sound, to the roar, blood and burning across the stars now, what he has to face has never changed.

Iron boots filled with blood and broken bones stepped on the same hard floor. As soon as the door was pushed open, the impatient cold wind pushed Zhuang Sen's shadow to the center of the hall, to the most terrible place. Horrible... creatures.

The Primarch raised his head, and at a glance he saw the completely distorted monster.

Monsters, behemoths, cannibals...

People in the world have all kinds of strange names for them, but in his eyes, they have only one name.

prey.

[Manipulator], in the vast sea of ​​​​stars, there were countless throats in countless worlds passing this name in endless fear and madness. It was once the most terrifying one among the countless shadows Ran Dan cast on this galaxy. , is the most blasphemous group among the alien army. It and its fleet: the moving wave of destruction that contains a battle moon and a hundred battleships is a wonderful thing that is enough for Jonson to prepare, plan, and even bleed. prey.

And now, it's harvest time.

The end is near.

But not his.

——————

Zhuang Sen advanced slowly, with all kinds of anti-psionic decorations rubbing against his armor, making crisp collision sounds from time to time. Most of the lenses that symbolized the soul of the Randan warrior were now broken and reduced to zero. Scattered fragments were scattered at his feet.

His pace was slow and steady. The terrifying creature wandering in the hall was limiting his speed: the most chaotic spiritual energy that gathered tens of thousands of wills had turned into some kind of invisible pressure. Let every step of the Primarch be like walking with a mountain on its back.

But this did not stop him. Zhuang Sen's eyes kept wandering on the distant monster, looking for an angle that would kill him.

He didn't put on his helmet until he was close enough, so that the last weak area was surrounded by layers of protection.

Ran Dan's [Warmaster], or in other words, his latest prey, is paralyzed on the throne and its steps. Its body has merged with the arrogant stronghold, just like a thorn that has swallowed the steel pine tree alive. The giant python roared in pain amid the collision of flesh and metal.

Zhuang Sen could see the distorted face. The blasphemous and ugly alien head was now being pulled wantonly, turning into some kind of horrific portrait that could make even the strongest warriors lose their courage in an instant. It was covered with With eyes made of flesh and blood, they kept running and emitted changing roars. When one of them caught Zhuang Sen's figure, all of them roared with unprecedented excitement. Ten pairs of eyes stared at him crazily.

The next moment, the most majestic offensive came.

It was the wanton howling and clawing of tens of thousands of souls.

The [Male Lion] is still some distance away from his prey.

——————

Invasion.

Zhuang Sen felt it. It was a wild offensive without any structure, but with its heavy power, it was still enough for him to pay attention to.

The [Manipulator] has completely lost the ability to speak and move. He is like a mass of flesh that is dying but not dead. It is still exuding a fishy stench. He can only make continuous roaring and neighing sounds, becoming a A complete beast.

But even so, its only means of attack: the impact caused by the entanglement of tens of thousands of uncontrolled souls, still made Zhuang Sen's body tremble involuntarily.

Caliban's beast-slayer listens as the most ferocious spirits of the dead roam beyond his will, tearing at the barriers he has built to protect himself and his secrets, leaving horrific scars on his soul.

For a moment, he even felt that he was fighting against an equal opponent. In the process of constant collision and resistance, countless souls screamed and rushed towards his soul kingdom. They are almost useless to the dead. They use their screams and collisions to make the ocean of consciousness begin to topple and boil.

Zhuang Sen, on the other hand, is still moving forward, making steady progress step by step.

He walked from the center of the broken crystal stars to the front of the monster until he could carefully see every detail on it.

The psychic behemoth with tens of thousands of heads and thoughts is still roaring and struggling, looking for a way to break through the brain of the original gene in its constant roar.

But it had no chance.

【enough. 】

Zhuang Sen raised the sword in his hand.

Just one sword.

It's all over.

The huge head flew up, along with the broken blood and churning flesh, drawing a trail of red and white in the broken starry sky.

Zhuang Sen watched quietly as the head of another giant beast crashed to the ground. A flash of color flashed in his eyes, a sign of fleeting immersion and satisfaction.

He creates the hunt.

He enjoyed the hunt.

——————

Blasphemous blood flowed to the ground, staining the steel boots of the First Legion's Primarch.

Zhuang Sen stood in front of the dead giant beast, and next to his ears were countless subtle sounds. It was the souls of tens of thousands of aliens that were splitting and dying due to the fall of their adherents.

He didn't care where they were going. At least, in the real universe and within the reach of his sword, they were no longer a threat to the human empire.

The Primarch lowered his head and stared at Randan [Warmaster] who fell at his feet.

With the disintegration of countless souls, this powerful wizard who was plotted by despicable means finally revealed his true face: the so-called Ran Dan [War Commander] was not a tall and strong individual. His body was stooped, like a The dwarf curled up, but even so, Zhuang Sen could still feel the power of witchcraft on it that was so majestic that no one could ignore it.

He could also feel that as the alien completely died, its originally majestic power was rapidly draining away at an incredible speed, as if it was being sucked dry by the land beneath its feet.

He didn't care about these small things, but began to think about other more important things.

This was something he had been thinking about a long time ago, and the somewhat twists and turns of the hunt just now made him pick up and continue this thinking again.

Maybe, he needs a target...a training target.

A controllable, powerful psyker.

Although he does not have any excellent talents in the vast ocean, nor is he interested in it, it is undeniable that there are so many wizards and psychic overlords in this galaxy, and most of them are not interested in it. The empire has no idea of ​​obedience and surrender, and it has no good intentions towards humans.

He needs training, more practice.

Back in Caliban, in order to hunt those aquatic behemoths, the knights had to learn how to get rid of the useless muskets and heavy armor in the river, learn how to master direction and balance in the violent torrent, and learn how to rise the tide. The rhythm and connection with the dry season, and finally, how to use the big sword in your hand to chop off the slimy sinful heads of those aquatic behemoths.

This is a long, boring, tedious and necessary process. For thousands of years, countless Caliban beast-hunting knights have told everyone clearly with their blood and screams: the greatest danger has never been the cunning and claws of the giant beasts. It's that the knight has lost respect, patience and vigilance towards [Hunting] itself.

A rushing current, a change of wind direction, or a flock of frightened birds...

Because of these trivial matters, the number of knights who eventually fell under the claws of giant beasts was much greater than those who were defeated openly in a frontal fight.

Hunting is not a simple and reckless thing.

Never.

It requires complete preparation, the most complicated, careful and fastidious preparation.

He doesn't make those mistakes.

He doesn't allow it.

When Zhuang Sen turned around and left this worthless palace, he had already confirmed a new requirement and goal.

He needed a psyker, a partner strong and safe enough for him to experiment with ways to resist and kill the sorcerous overlords.

Just like he once practiced his fighting skills in the water to hunt the giant man-eating beasts lurking in swamps and lake bottoms, he needs to understand the power of so-called spiritual energy and witchcraft, and know their operation and power.

He does not expect to become a psychic scholar like Magnus, but he must have the power, plan and skills to kill beings like Magnus who break the laws of physics.

He needs an imaginary enemy.

He could not be an Astartes, preferably not, for an Angel of Death always meant trouble: among his descendants he could not think of anyone who posed a great threat to him in the spiritual realm.

There may be some Astartes from other legions who can do this, but their identities are sensitive and it is difficult for them to carry out the confidentiality steps necessary for the Dark Angels' private operations.

So, he temporarily stored the idea in his mind, waiting for the right opportunity to reactivate it. He knew that he did not need to handle this matter personally, he only needed to entrust it to the right person: give it to multiple people, listen to many people reports and suggestions, just like before.

He walked out of the hall and watched as five hundred people silently gathered at the entrance of the hall. He saw that the heir who had been ordered to leave had brought the mortal psyker and the soldiers of the Second Legion.

Everything is going according to plan.

A trace of cold satisfaction and elation circulated in the heart of the Primarch.

This complacency lasted for a few moments, until a Dark Angel silently walked to his side.

"My Lord... there is news from the [Indomitable Truth] that a new fleet is jumping from the Star Gate, and their fleet commander is...Luthor."

"[Indomitable Truth] wants to know if this is part of your plan."

Dark Angel asked a question, and soon, he got an answer.

The low air pressure swept over the [Male Lion] who suddenly became gloomy in the blink of an eye.

【...Luthor? 】

Well, it doesn't seem like it.

Dark Angel lowered his head and said no more.

——————

When Morgan first met Magnus, he was in the midst of his daily arrogance.

When Morgan first met Perturabo, he was immersed in endless data and planning.

And when Morgan saw Jonson for the first time, she only saw a sword burning with raging anger.

【Luthor? 】

[I didn’t order him to come over. 】

【That idiot! What is he doing! 】

The sound was like a beheading sword, and drops of blood fell on everyone's faces with every word.

Five hundred people, all five hundred people, lowered their heads and made no sound. They stood on the left and right of Zhuang Sen, allowing the primarch's anger to burn in an instant.

And in front of this dead forest built by countless steel giants, the two silver figures that stepped into the Primarch's field of vision seemed particularly dazzling.

Morgan let Hector walk in front. She stayed safely under the shadow cast by the tall warrior, watching Jonson's outline appear in her field of vision little by little.

Then, a little surprise happened.

When Jonson's furious gaze shot at them mercilessly, Hector's originally steady steps stopped for an instant, as if a small carnivorous beast was being preyed upon by the top predator in the deep forest. As the eater watched, his knees, calves and even his head were shaking involuntarily.

The nearly fearless Astartes paused before the Primarch's gaze, becoming a trembling mass of metal.

But Jonson didn't have time to pay attention to his strange behavior. Caliban's King of Knights quickly came over. After briefly looking at Hector, he moved his gaze to the mortal who exuded the aura of witchcraft.

[Did you send the message? 】

Jonson's appearance was reflected in Morgan's pupils: long blond hair and beard, emerald green eyes, hard brow bones and bridge of nose created a dangerous face. He wrapped himself in a cold disguise and In the container, it still can't hide the raging anger inside, and there are some more primitive and pure things...

wild.

Morgan smiled and curtsied.

[Yes, Your Excellency. 】

[Well done... You two did well. 】

The original gene nodded. His attention was obviously not focused here. His eyes were casually cast on Morgan, but he did not focus further. This caused him to miss a certain opportunity, which made him not I noticed something fleetingly wrong with the mortal in front of me.

The wailing sounds gathered at the feet of the [mortal] in front of me seemed too loud, and her breath seemed to be floating in a dangerous latitude.

But Jonson didn't notice this.

He was furious.

[The Lion]'s eyes quickly focused elsewhere. His heart was angered by some kind of offense and was burning with fire that could devour the world: Obviously, some people disobeyed his orders and did not follow his requirements. With the will to act, he didn't care what reason made them choose to do so, but any offense would be punished.

As the angry footsteps gradually faded away, Morgan raised her head and watched the [Lion] and part of the five hundred people gradually disappear at the end of the field of vision. Her pupils returned to deathly silence, shining with a certain smile. .

She got it.

She knew what was burning in her heart.

That is fear.

That's fear.

It's the instinct of the soul that screams to be armed.

It is an involuntary will to fight, eager to do every defensive means.

That is [the same kind].

She and him.

Morgan, and Jonson.

In a sense, they are the same kind, transcending the so-called blood relationship between the Primarchs, and are more similar in soul and nature.

And what burned in her heart was the most natural emotion that would burst out after seeing a real [similar person] who was equally ruthless, equally indifferent, and equally unscrupulous.

That is……

Want to be wary of his instinct.

as well as……

Desire overcomes his desires.