His Highness Guilliman, the Regent of the Second Human Empire, placed the gorgeous laurel crown on his head.

Countless majestic and majestic scenes instantly filled the original body's heart.

A brilliant picture outlines an extremely bright future for him.

Compared to the monumental feats depicted in the picture, the small victory before Guilliman's eyes was nothing to mention.

In the picture, he commands an unprecedented vast army, planting the flag of the human empire in every corner of the galaxy.

The people loved him so much that being able to die for the Hero King was the highest compliment for each of them.

Countless worlds he liberated will bear Guilliman's name.

The cruel and cunning Chaos is nothing more than a broken-backed dog in front of him. The demons have no choice but to hide in the darkest corners.

Statues glorifying Guilliman dotted every world in the Imperium, and a supreme throne awaited him.

Just when he was on the road to becoming king, sitting on the supreme throne, overlooking the entire human empire, he felt endless sadness in his heart.

Guilliman saw it.

There was a figure that was both familiar and unfamiliar, walking slowly towards him.

The majestic and powerful body, the handsome and determined face, and the bright eyes seem to be filled with endless fighting spirit at all times.

This was none other than Guilliman's long-lost brother, Dulquer, the Primarch of the Second Legion.

"Hey, isn't this Guilliman?"

Primarch No. 2 looked at Guilliman sitting on the Supreme Throne, his tone seemed to be full of confusion and confusion.

"I didn't expect you to take the trouble to come and meet me in person. Welcome, my brother."

Guilliman did not provide an answer to Number Two's confusion.

Although there is a huge gap in their identities now, they have regained their human glory and established supreme merits.

He still maintained his humility and tried to give the other party a feeling of spring breeze.

But No. 2's next words made him feel numb.

"Brother, I'm not telling you, what are you daydreaming about here?"

There was a weird smile on Dukel's face, and then under Guilliman's disbelieving gaze, a big psychic cock was drawn out.

It is difficult for others to imagine how much psychological shadow this big fight had on the regent who was no longer young.

This slap not only brought him back to reality, but also made him feel ashamed.

Guilliman wanted to say a few more words to Dukel, but unfortunately, his fear of subspace was so deep in his bones.

The moment he woke up, he subconsciously cut off the psychic connection.

Returning to Macragge's celebration, Guilliman recalled the beautiful scenes just now.

Thinking again of the seemingly humble but actually complacent attitude he made toward No. 2 when he was indulging in the illusion.

At this moment, even the great demigod primarch, the king of five hundred worlds, couldn't help but blush, fully realizing the feeling of social death.

But soon this social shyness turned into endless anger.

The furious regent tore the laurel wreath on his head into pieces and ordered the arrest of the consul general in front of him.

After venting his anger, Guilliman called Efreni and ordered,

"I need you and your Death Army to do something for me."

"Help me find my brother, Dukel, Primarch of the Second Legion."

"Go to Ophelia Seven and he should still be there."

In the unpredictable depths of subspace, in a lost world.

Within the twisted temple of flesh and blood, roars mixed with endless pain were heard.

Fulgrim was in a miserable state at the moment, his huge body gradually shriveled up, and traces of fire were spilled from the cracked flesh and blood.

The soul fragments filled with inner fire penetrated into his body and soul without any obstacles, which was tantamount to setting himself on fire.

Although it couldn't kill him, it caused him deep pain.

Not only that, the world he was in at this moment was burning with blazing flames, burning the world in eternal darkness into a fiery red.

Countless demons were burned up in the flames, and their painful roars echoed in every corner of the world.

His carefully prepared conspiracy not only failed to achieve any effect, but also set him on fire and brought humiliation to himself.

"Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah!--"

"No. 2, you deserve to die!"

Fulgrim summoned the Chaos Legion under his command, and the rage in his heart could no longer tolerate any hesitation on his part.

He will personally launch an expedition, and this time, he will definitely cut off his brother's head with his own hands.

Come and wash away the humiliation!

.

The roar of the sea of ​​souls is rolling, and the wave of subspace destruction seems to want to sweep in and swallow up all souls.

Arrogance turns into a turbulent whirlpool, rage and evil desire merge into a mad storm;

Despair converges into steep straits, and countless hungry demons wander the endless shores.

In the infinitely vast bloody plain, this is the battlefield belonging to the four gods.

Countless demons are fighting here all day long, and a bloodthirsty demon army of Khorne is marching towards the Crystal Maze City.

At the edge of the city, the ringed scorpions as huge as a city collided head-on with the guardians of Tzeentch.

Rushing in from all directions like a dense swarm of insects, the two armies were like two bloodthirsty beasts, biting each other fiercely the moment they met.

Slaanesh's Knights of Desire infiltrate Nurgle's gardens.

This attack was so sudden and well-timed that Father's army of demons had just been dispatched to attack Khorne's Ironfire Castle.

Terrible fighting is just the daily routine of these demons. Fierce fighting makes the subspace turbulent every moment.

——Under the intensive and long-term oscillations, it becomes increasingly difficult to navigate through the subspace.

But even such a brutal war could not completely win the favor of the four gods. Their eyes were still aimed at the physical universe at all times.

Khorne put most of his attention on the resurrection of the original body.

The Demon Prince's failure made him laugh wildly.

And the plans conceived by his believers also receive more attention from Him.

Known as the ever-victorious Warmaster, Abaddon roared.

Amidst the roars, countless demons and Chaos believers are preparing to attack, ready to break the barrier between reality and illusion again and sound the horn to hunt for the resurrected Primarch.

Carlos, the Fateweaver under Tzeentch, carefully picked up the scattered fragments of fate and began to weave a large web against the original body.

The demon prince Fulgrim is even more ready to launch an expedition himself. This time he is bound to wash away the humiliation.

For these vicious stares.

Duker knew it all.

He strengthened his own forces as much as possible and made preparations for the Great Expedition.

As the aliens stared at the Primarch with malice, he stared back at them.

The vast expanse of the Milky Way is a huge hunting ground, and no one thinks that he or she will be the prey.

Just a few weeks after the celebration of the Primarch's resurrection.

The peaceful days when Dukel was quietly gathering strength were once again rippled.

According to the message conveyed to him by members of the Heart Network,

The Thirteenth Princess (bushi), the Death Army Everene, led the fleet and appeared near Ophelia Seven.

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