40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 471 192. Terra (forty-nine, New God)

When the Worldbreaker's ferocious hammer fell towards him, Ferrus Manus thought nothing.

He just swings the hammer.

The two giant forces collided head-on, and the howling wind and shock wave suddenly descended along with the manic Mars. The dark dust that originally covered the ground was swept away, and its original appearance was finally revealed, shining with silver light and engraved with reliefs. It contains the hard work and ingenuity of the craftsmen, but it has been completely polluted by the darkness of chaos.

However, I don’t know if there is some kind of force behind it, or if this is really just a terrible coincidence. On that silver brick, Ferus’s name is quietly staying in the center.

He didn't notice it.

How would he find out? Is it possible to remove the steel boots and look down at the floor tiles?

No, there is only one thing he can do now, which is to hold the hammer in both hands to resist the power of Horus Luperkar. The thing that was once their brother easily suppressed him in the struggle with just one hand, leaving him with no time to think, and making his muscles and bones let out a dull cry.

The Worldbreaker ravaged the Forgebreaker mercilessly, its spiky surface twinkling with crimson light like pulsating lightning. But that is by no means a real 'lightning'. It is not a force of nature. The reason why it takes on this form is just because the thing holding it wants to see this form.

Like he wants to see the world burn.

As long as he wants

Ferus let out a low gasp, and a giant sword slashed down from above his head.

It drew a dangerous arc, but turned into a thorn in the middle, stabbing Horus with absolute and naked killing intent.

Aren't you coming yet? he asked Void.

The always gentle face had been completely distorted, and sticky blood slowly flowed from his dark forehead. It was not his blood, but it made his face even colder and inhuman.

At the same time, the Lord of the Fire Dragon strode forward with unparalleled fury - among the many primarchs who were dragged down by demons and monsters, he was the first one to rush to this battle circle.

Fulgrim trembled and howled.

They were once the best friends with him, but now they sincerely want to kill him - of course, who here is not?

Besides his stupid heirs and the Chaos Demons, who wouldn't want to kill him?

He could have just killed him.

why not? Something asked softly.

There was even a bit of confusion on his face, not knowing what he was hit by. He was so badly wounded, yet Horus never actually touched his brother.

very good. Then see how long you have to wait. I don't mind putting on a solo drama for you, Father.

"You'd better crawl out of that fire pit first, brother." Horus replied with a smile. "Also, I forgive your slight offense."

As he spoke, he took back the Worldbreaker with a smile, and at the same time grabbed the Sword of Raging Flames with his giant claw in his right hand. The angry flames that should have wrapped around the power claws and burned his flesh were motionless at the moment, and even began to slowly extinguish.

Horus turned around and threw Fulgrim away. The blood of the phoenix was scattered in the air. Before it hit the ground, another muffled sound suddenly came. Ferrus Manus was also knocked away, and his chest armor was dented.

"Do you still remember who the first deceased was?" Suddenly, he asked.

Still can't do it.

However, this seems to be the limit of what he can do - how should he deal with Vulkan who is in a rage and has launched an unstoppable charge towards him?

So, who's next?

He raised his head.

"You are determined and have the consciousness to do whatever it takes, but after all, he doesn't want you to truly become his slave. How ridiculous, Fulgrim? His kindness is useless. And I want to know, his kindness-"

He seemed to have lost all interest and swallowed the rest of his words. The Chogorians didn't respond and just waved their swords. He didn't have anything to say, and he didn't even bother to give a look of disdain.

"what"

In the heart-piercing pain, Phoenix heard him say: "——Is this the last straw that breaks your heart?"

"We will kill you." The blacksmith of Nocturne declared, his murderous intent boiling like crazy. "We will skin you and cramp you, break your flesh and bones."

The answer is to do nothing.

"I miss you so much, dear Fulgrim."

He took a step forward, crushed the Sword of Fury to pieces, swung out his huge claws, thrust Fulgrim through his chest, and stabbed him up again.

Bursts of darkness surged out of the air, as thick as the blood of living creatures or water from another world. Vulkan's charge stopped there, and the ground beneath his feet turned into a hell of fire, engulfing him. Flesh and blood splattered, but the Fire Dragon Lord's expression did not change, as if he had expected it.

Sighing in a low voice, Horus turned his head to avoid the thrust of the Spear of Perfection, and then immediately took two steps back to avoid the attack of the White Tiger Sword. Without any extra words or communication, Sanguinius and Jaghatai, one on the left and one on the right, stormed towards Horus.

Unfortunately, he couldn't do it.

"You haven't sacrificed enough."

Fulgrim looked him straight in the eyes, smiling slowly as Lal'h screamed.

The void did not answer. What answered the question in its place was a terrifying giant sword made of angry flames.

A huge claw stopped it and even beat it until it was freed. The lion's pupils shrank, and he immediately roared and swung out Leman Russ's spear. Golden light spots condensed on the tip of the spear slowly and sometimes quickly.

Ferrus Manus swung down the Forgebreaker from behind Horus in an ugly gesture.

Horus Luperkar snorted with disdain amid the murmurs and gave a warning.

"Jaghatai." Horus shook his head slightly. "I thought you could understand. Forget it."

He turned back and began to continue to control the power to torture Ferrus Manus, pressing down with the power of his fingertips, so that Ferrus Manus and his Furnace Breaker would let out an overwhelmed low gasp.

Just a look, just a look.

The monster began to explain to him gently, as intimately as if they had stood side by side in the past.

The sound of it chopping the air was like thousands of wronged souls wailing in unison. Horus turned to look at his once glorious brother who was now suffering. A smile suddenly appeared on that pale and red face.

He tried to resist, tried to use this soul-destroying dark power to make the sword burn again, he wanted them to burn it, burn the monster that stood before him in the face of Horus Luperkar. .

This was supposed to be a fatal blow, but Horus only had to glance at it, and the lion flew backwards with a spear. It was like being hit head-on by some giant beast, and blood spurted out from the gaps in the armor. , the lion landed on the ground, trembling and vomiting a large mouthful of blood.

Disappointment is inevitable after all.

Of course he remembered, how could he not remember? He remembers everyone, their names, their faces, their personalities

And, how they died for him.

The Khan had long understood that all words or actions were in vain. This man was not Horus Luperkar. He could give it nothing but murderous intent.

This extreme concentration caused him to swing his sword faster and faster, and the white tiger's sword light was continuous, like a flowing stream.

Then he hit him.

Chagatai took a deep breath and slowly took two steps back. Blood spurted out from his abdomen.

"A scar." Horus waved his claw to block the spear of completion and looked at Jaghatai. "In exchange for another scar, fair enough, brother?"

".Not enough." Khan replied in a low voice. "It's not enough to leave a slash on your shoulder armor, I want it to appear on your neck."

Horus did not answer, but turned to look at the angel. Sanguinius was wrestling with him, holding the spear with all his strength. The opposition between black and white has never been so pure, and certainly the rage in Sanguinius's eyes has never been more evident.

Through the sharp edge of the claw blade, Horus stared into his brother's eyes, and suddenly a violent desire arose in his heart - he wanted to completely destroy his wings, pluck them out, let him have all his limbs, and long for him in the dust. Blood God's

Horus's expression suddenly darkened.

He waved his claws to force Sanguinius back, but his figure suddenly disappeared without any warning. The next second, he fell from the sky and hit Sanguinius hard.

The Worldbreaker destroyed the angel's armor, but miraculously did not damage any flesh and blood. The force far more powerful than Kabanha penetrated into the ground, creating a huge pit several meters deep, and the angel lay in it. Inside, his face was filled with shock and even a hint of fear.

Not the fear of death, but about something else.

Horus let go, leaving the Worldbreaker in his armor. He glanced at it, and the Worldbreaker's weight suddenly increased, the smoke scattered, and the angel was forced deep into the ground again. He was still uninjured, and all the power had never really hurt him, even if it had made the hole expand as if he had been hit by a missile from the front.

Why.?

Sanguinius looked at him, fearful and angry.

Horus heard this question, but did not answer, just turned his head. Ferrus Manus and Jaghatai rushed towards him again, Fulgrim followed closely, the Sword of Fury had been ignited again, Vulkan also roared and tried to break free from the shackles of Hell, wanting to help their brothers.

He smiled.

He slowly raised his right paw, and scarlet lightning began to dance between the five claws.

Time immediately stopped, and the command was followed. The blade that was supposed to be swung stopped in mid-air, and the person who was supposed to die was able to survive for a while. Darkness swept away, and his roar resounded throughout Terra in the next second, then the entire galaxy, and finally, the wave of chaos that was rushing through the warp.

"Go away and I won't say it a third time," he said darkly. "Don't try to get involved in this battle anymore. You are just spectators. If you dare to exceed it again, the consequence will be death."

The Ancient Four gave different responses to this surprise within a surprise.

The King of Joy smiles brightly and is full of interest.

The Lord of Decay, Gu Jing Wubo, just kept his head down and stirred the cauldron, as if this matter was more important than anything else.

The blood-red one was extremely angry, but could not take any action to deal with the matter for the time being.

His sword has penetrated deeply into a ball of beating silver light. It changes endlessly, turning into a white horse for a while, and a huge flying bird for a while. The blue light beat like starlight, flowing countless times like blood in this battle that no one could see.

And He is the one who smiles the most.

"What did you do?" Xuehong asked with a roar.

"Variables." The Lord of Changes said. "Even if it's just a skin, he's still Horus Luperkar."

"What did you do?!" Xuehong continued to roar.

He swung his sword and continued to slaughter Him.

The Lord of Changes did not answer, but his laughter continued uninterrupted, not caring about the pain or his own losses. He understood that He would heal. Because the threads of fate are being cut off from root to root, the ugly ending is about to be completely changed.

Changes, endless changes.

He originally wanted this skin to really serve as a puppet to walk in the mortal world on their behalf, but not long ago, he suddenly had a better idea.

Compared to a puppet who can only call his father, is a truly ambitious monarch who attempts to usurp the throne more consistent with his identity?

Isn't it more interesting to have a monster that can cause chaos in the physical universe for a long time than a small puppet that can be thrown away?

His thoughts are unknown, but the wrath of Horus is evident.

He seemed to have been greatly insulted, and his anger caused countless dead people hanging upside down in the royal court to close their eyes at this moment, not daring to look anymore. The demons restrained their movements, and an instinctive fear rose from the depths of their flesh and blood, forcing these monsters and demons to scream in unison.

The royal court began to tremble, and the darkness dispersed, faded, and disappeared into the invisible. The fire ignited, scarlet like eyes. Horus turned around, abandoned the angel behind him, and strode towards the other direction.

A sharp blade pierced out of the darkness, and Conrad Coze's pale face flashed away, his pupils as dark as the hollow eye sockets of the deceased. Horus didn't even look at him, didn't even stop or block. The blade stopped in the air, strangely unable to move forward.

Curze narrowed his eyes and suddenly retreated. Another shadow similar to him fell from the sky, and slashed Horus' neck with his claws one after another.

He got a similar result - the claw blade stopped in mid-air and could no longer penetrate deeper.

Unlike Konrad Curze, Horus raised his left hand, made a fist, and knocked Corus Corax to the ground. But it was just one punch.

After that, he picked him up, threw him to Conrad Coates, and continued walking without even an extra glance.

The King of Night stood there and slowly exhaled a breath of filthy air. He looked down at his brother in his arms. The Lord of Savior struggled to spit out a mouthful of blood mixed with internal organs, his face was cold.

"It's not time yet," the Night King said softly. "We still have to wait."

"How long will it take?"

"Wait until he comes," Coates said. "Wait until...the two gems merge into one. But what is this monster going to do?"

His question was answered seconds later.

The royal court of Luperkar suddenly fell into silence at this moment. No sound could be retained or spread in any way, only the terrifying silence.

Horus Luperkar raised his head and stared at the thousands of dead people who were hung upside down in the royal court. His eyes were distant and cold, as if he was staring at the sky through it.

After a brief observation, he raised his right paw, and the scarlet lightning began to beat again. In this royal court that has been expanded tens of thousands of times, all the living and inanimate people on Terra are watching this scene, whether they want to see it or not.

They understood that he was gathering strength.

but why? Why such extreme honesty? What on earth does he want to do?

Only a few people can know the answer in advance, and one of them is Azek Ahriman, a purely blind man. Logically speaking, he couldn't see what was happening now, but he could 'feel' it.

He fell to his knees, his hands shaking - no matter how long it had been since he had used his powers, he was still a powerful psyker.

The knowledge resided in his mind, just as spiritual energy slumbered deep in his bones. At this moment, the extreme sensitivity brought about by the superposition of the two is telling Ahriman one thing.

A very scary thing.

He tried to warn, but he couldn't make any sound. It was as if the place had become a vacuum. His words could only come from his heart, and Ahriman knew that whatever he was about to say would sound much like a scream. "You can't keep running away."

So spoke Horus Luperkar in his court, where he was the only voice at this moment.

He clenched his right paw, red light scattered, and the ground began to boil. Someone started screaming silently, many people. They had been soldiers, civilians, or Astartes, but they would soon be anything but.

In the spreading red light, millions of seats quietly emerged from under people. They were forced to sit on it, and then their bodies began to change. No, not just the body - but the soul, and everything.

The human body begins to metamorphose, becoming heterogeneous and distorted. The soul is painfully changed in the light, and the power of darkness is continuously poured into it, tearing the memory into pieces, and turning everything they cherish into ashes.

But this is not the end, because these ashes are being shaped by a force with absolute force.

A new race, a side that is completely opposite and completely opposite to human beings. Once they appeared, they left their own reflection in the subspace. Before this, they had never appeared before. And after this, they will exist forever.

What kind of power is this?

How can a skin that has been poured with power do this? Even three of the Ancient Four were puzzled by this. When they asked about this, the initiator just laughed wildly.

He didn’t know what he had done. He just promoted some developments and blurred some original boundaries.

Starting with the name Vengeful Spirit, that line began to be completely blurred. He didn't know the consequences of his actions, but that was what made it interesting.

That's it. He watched feverishly as the skin gradually filled up and even possessed his own followers, and issued a declaration in the storm of chaos.

"I acknowledge your birth!"

Horus Luperkar stared at Him indifferently and without saying a word.

The power poured into his body by the Four Gods began to be gradually swallowed up. Joy, Decay and Blood Red tried to take it back, but it was too late. They blessed him regardless of the cost, and finally tasted the bitter fruit today.

Only the Lord of Changes was willing, and even began to surrender briefly, worshiping the new god who was about to be born - a god of divine creation, a god with the power of the ancient four, and a share in the eternal spiral of hatred. The noble new god.

A god who is waiting for his father.

"I will wait for you right here," Horus Luperkar declared calmly. "Come to me, Father."

There is a sound.

The second voice, in this temple beyond the royal court - but, what is that voice? Can anyone describe it specifically?

If other people can still speak, some people may say that this sound sounds like thunder, but others will immediately refute, how can it be thunder? It was clearly the sound of a sword being unsheathed.

Or maybe it's the sound of horse hooves, the sound of war drums, the sound of a shield being knocked, a king reciting a long poem, a wise man scolding fate, or a warrior's extremely angry roar.

It is the heart-wrenching sigh of a father.

A golden light suddenly appeared, streaking across the thick darkness above the royal court like a shooting star. Cutting through the long night, bringing a little light, and then violent thunder and lightning, millions of them, piercing the darkness together.

The Warmaster looked at his father.

The Emperor looked towards his mortal enemy.

"You should be glad that I still have a merciful heart." Horus said coldly. "I could have killed all your sons and your people, but I would not. I remained tolerant of them. Unlike you, father. You told lies and sent them to die."

The Emperor didn't answer, and the air suddenly began to tremble - was something about to come? What is it?

Countless people are waiting eagerly, hoping, longing, and screaming in the hope that their only king can save mankind and completely cut off the head of the number one rebel. However, they did not know that the battle had already happened.

The trembling air is the aftertaste of the end, not the clarion call of the beginning.

The Emperor took a slight step back.

The demons cheered.

"Silence," said Horus.

They immediately fell silent.

"You are still stalling, father," Horus said, unusually calmly. "I know what you want to do, you want to drag him to come, but it can only be Him, not Khalil Lohars."

"That god will not have any hostility towards me, even if I share his authority to a certain extent. He is the god of revenge, the god of hatred, and the god of justice. The two ends of the scale of vengeance are always of equal weight, and an emperor's Hate is hate, isn't it the hatred of a commoner? He will not help either party, your plan has failed."

"That was not my plan," the Emperor said.

He raised his left hand, and golden light bloomed quietly from between his fingers. The fabric of time begins to crumble, and so does space. They were folded, catalyzed by the will of the Lord of Mankind, and transformed into prisons that tightly enveloped him and his enemies.

In the corner where no one was paying attention for the moment, Leon El'Jonson slowly stood up on his own.

He was severely injured and at least half of the bones in his body were broken. He silently clenched the spear, feeling great shame - and then he heard Russ's voiceless words.

I told you so, Leon. Ruth sighed. I said, you are no match for him, none of us can compete with him. He is already another species. Do you expect a group of ants to defeat a giant with invulnerable skin and infinite strength?

I'll give it a try. The lion said coldly. The ants kill the elephant.

He took steps, using the spear as a crutch, and walked towards the prison.

You name it, try it, brother, it's no use trying. The Fenrisian quipped coolly.

Not to mention participating in the battle, you can't even understand in what form they are fighting each other now. Can you see what's going on in the prison? Can you hear the sounds they make when they fight? Do you think this battle still remains at the level of the material universe?

No, Leon, you have to understand that Terra has already stepped half into the subspace. And we are now in the other half of darkness, where everything you are familiar with is just appearances and illusions, and the real battle is a level that you cannot enter.

The lion stopped.

Why do you know so much? he asked.

Because I'm dead. Ruth replied calmly. The dead can see things that the living cannot.

Let me see it too. said the lion.

He turned the spear over and thrust its point into his chest. He wasn't bleeding or injured, but Ruth's helpless sigh could be heard in his ears - a real sigh.

A hand rubbed the top of his head, feeling a real touch.

"You shouldn't have done this, brother," the Fenrisian said sadly. "Now you're going to see it, but you can't understand it, and you're going to go crazy."

--Really?

The lion looked firmly at the prison, and then he finally saw it. Just as Russ said, it was not the battle he imagined. There was no clash of blades, no wounds, blood, roars, or battles to compete with each other's strength and fighting skills.

So, what is this?

What words should be used to describe such a battle? No, no, can this really be called a battle?

Leon El'Jonson's fingers began to tremble, and his sanity quickly evaporated. His imagination was replacing his reason, and only in this way could he continue to stare.

Ruth was still chattering in his ear, trying to wake him up, but he could no longer hear it. Even if he could hear it, he would not be able to respond.

His mind had completely sunk in, like a willing drowner who defied his instinct to survive and happily welcomed the water that was about to reach his head.

He saw something.

A thing whose true appearance is difficult to describe, a dark, tall, swollen, rotten thing that laughs, groans, roars, rages, and thinks endlessly—

"Shh, shh, I know, I know." Ruth stroked the top of his head, tears streaming from her golden eyes. "Horus."

--Yes.

It has the face of Horus.

It's eating the Emperor.

Leon El'Jonson screams back into the real world.

A spear was pulled out and thrown at his feet. Luther stretched out his hand forcefully to pull him up and began to check his injuries. The lion's eyes widened and his thoughts became distracted.

He was unable to continue thinking at all. He had witnessed something beyond his ability to bear. Is this because his will was not strong enough? No, this is absolutely not the case. This matter has nothing to do with whether the will is strong or the spirit is stable.

And Luther knew that as the fight between them continued, sooner or later more people would be forced to witness what Leon had just seen. It's terrible, it's cruel, and it's going to happen. No one can leave Luperkar's court anymore, which is Terra.

The spirit of vengeance is Terra.

An altar.

He took a deep breath, pulled the lion up, and held the spear with his prosthetic limb. Leman Russ's voice also sounded in his ears at this moment: "I thought you knew very little, Luther."

I wish I didn't have to know so much. Luther responded with a wry smile.

"He'll be fine," Ruth said. "He can get through it, I believe in him."

But the question now is not whether he is awake, Lord Russ. Luther said in his heart.

He sighed and put the spear into the lion's hand. He clenched it instinctively, and his body suddenly tensed for a moment. Luther knew he would be fine. Just like Leman Russ said, he also believes that the Lion can survive - but how many people believe in the Emperor?

In other words, among those who know the truth and can glimpse the truth, how many people really believe that the Emperor can win?

Luther didn't know the answer, he wanted him to win, but his reason told him that the Emperor couldn't win.

The energy of the Lord of Mankind has been tied up by too many things, his power is limited, and he still considers himself a human being, not a god, so there is no way he can win this battle.

But he doesn't need to win either.

The Caliban silently lowered Leon El'Jonson to his feet, leaning on his spear. He took one last deep look at his master and son, then turned decisively and walked to the other end.

There is not only a war going on in the royal court. Only the gods are allowed to speak here, but others can still fight with each other. Therefore, the demonic tide begins to collide with the loyalists head-on.

Luther has been through many wars in his life, but he has never seen one like this. It is too huge and too heavy. It is the most brilliant brilliance that a race can emit at the moment of life and death.

Luther was inspired, but he also had to face a cruel reality - how could he find the person he was looking for in this infinitely stretched front?

Just as he was hesitating, a familiar voice broke into his mind, rude and urgent.

+Go forward. +

+Makado? +

+Move forward, Luther, just keep moving+

Caliban did as he was told, and at the same time turned his head instinctively, and saw the short black-robed figure of the Seal Holder on a hill made of demon corpses.

He stood on it, holding the scepter tightly with both hands, standing very weakly. Under the hood were two dots of psychic light. They were not very bright, but they were enough to kill any dirty thing.

Luthor understood that he was injured - even the Mark Palmist was injured like this, and even the Emperor was being gradually defeated by the monster.

Can we really win?

In other words, can we really delay him? Moreover, even if he comes

Luther took a deep breath and put all these things behind him.

Mission 423: Find Orr Persson. He recited these words silently, strode forward, and crashed into the whirlpool of death. He had no hesitation, fearful of the future, but unreasonably determined.
-

Sanguinius held the Worldbreaker in his hands, his hands turning bloody from its spikes. He didn't care, he just continued to push the warhammer. Now it was as heavy as a mountain, pressing on him. Although it didn't hurt him at all, it made it difficult for him to move.

The angel couldn't stand this, and he had to get out of this pit - but fortunately, he was never alone.

Humanity is always united.

A figure appeared from the edge of the pit and jumped down. A pair of shining silver arms grasped the handle of the Worldbreaker, and Ferus Manus began to exert force with blood on his face.

The second to arrive was Fulgrim, who stood beside his Gorgon and worked with him to free the hammer from Sanguinius' body.

This is no simple and easy task. In the past, a primarch could easily swing and push something ten times the weight of the Worldbreaker without any effort. But it was different now. Let alone pushing or lifting it, they couldn't even make it move at all.

So, as if by coincidence, or as if someone really heard this call that had never been sent, at the edge of the pit, the face of Robert Guilliman quietly appeared.

He watched for a few seconds and then jumped down. The blue armor was full of pits, holes and scars. In contrast, there was a pair of blazing white eyes under the pale and broken hair - but he did not start to try, but solemnly and seriously spoke silent words to his brother.

Sanguinius stared at his lips, taking in the changing shapes of his mouth to understand what he wanted to say. What was beyond the expectations of the Baals was that Guilliman did not say any tactical analysis. The sentence was actually very simple, only six words.

"Release your hands and let me come."

Ferrus Manus and Fulgrim looked at each other, released their hands, and let their changed brothers place their hands on the handle of the Worldbreaker.

Immediately afterwards, a faint but genuine sound came into their ears. This was the third sound. Although it was weak, it did exist.

As the sound appeared, a picture also appeared in front of them - it was a furnace, burning with flames, and thousands of points of light surging endlessly. There seems to be anger and sadness, and countless emotions are integrated into it, turning into a sincere and simple pure power.

A burning force.

Robert Guilliman's gauntlets began to burn, the intense heat destroying the air and distorting the light. The Worldbreaker began to tremble, and dark power and scarlet lightning suddenly appeared again, climbing up from those spikes.

The Lord of Macragge stood there, veins popping out on his forehead, his face illuminated by the glow in his eyes, and his bones, blood vessels and nerves all visible under the skin.

He let out a silent cry, and the dull and loud sound in his chest became more and more real.

The Worldbreaker suddenly flew out.

Guilliman fell to his knees, blood flowing down from his seven orifices like a waterfall.

Fulgrim immediately helped him to his feet, and Ferrus Manus pulled the angel up. Sanguinius looked at them, speechless. He clenched his fists, lowered his head to pick up the finishing spear from the pit, and closed his eyes.

He can also use his talents.

But this time, the picture he saw was still the same as before. He lay covered in blood in the royal court. He was bleeding, and Khalil Lohars stood beside him.

What is the necessary connection between this? Sanguinius doesn't know the answer, but he will do whatever it takes to make it happen. He nodded to them, fluttering his wings and flying into the darkness.

At the top of the royal court, the empty eyes of the dead are staring at all this. They are indeed the dead, but they are also spectators and even more sacrifices. They will remain here until the flames of the altar are completely extinguished

Orpeson tightened his grip on his gun, stopped staring at them, and walked forward.

(End of this chapter)