Man in Warhammer, starting Primarch

Lucius the Immortal also fell, the former 13th Captain of the Emperor's Children Legion.

Thousands of years ago, he won countless honors with his superb swordsmanship.

But the glory of the past faded, and the Emperor's Children indulged in lust after the fall, and today they also ushered in their own destruction.

When a red sword penetrated his chest, he did not get any pleasure of death, only the pain and nothingness of eternal annihilation.

There is no intelligent being who is not afraid of eternal annihilation.

His gods could no longer save him, and Lucius had a whip of torture in his hand that gave him unimaginable pleasure every time he whipped someone with it.

But at this time, this demonic weapon had been shattered into countless fragments.

Even his screaming armor, which imprisoned countless souls, was broken.

An Argent sword pierced his back, piercing his heart and soul until it caused irreparable scars to his essence.

In the countless battles in the past, every time Lucius died, he would get pleasure that ordinary people could not understand.

Then he will be satisfied and rise again from those who killed him.

The abilities given by the gods are invincible, but this time, Lucius can feel that the power given to him by the Prince of Joy is leaving, and there will be no possibility of his resurrection.

This was a real death. He didn't feel any pleasure in his heart, only endless chill.

Lucius desperately prayed to the Prince of Joy, hoping that this omnipotent god could resurrect him again.

But there was no answer to his call.

Lucius is known as the Immortal. In the past, he has also imagined his own death. He thought that it would definitely bring him a unique sense of satisfaction. In a wonderful stage, his death would be worthy of his death. Called art.

He even looked forward to that moment, and the feeling of self-destruction filled his heart.

But when this moment really came, he was panicked and no longer as calm as before. His limbs were trembling, and fear was biting him like a poisonous snake.

He crawled on the ground like a dog, trying to get away from the blade.

But a steel combat boot trampled on his head, and the deformed head was pressed to the ground by brute force.

Lucius felt humiliated, but as soon as this feeling arose, he was overwhelmed by fear again.

At this moment, fear expelled Slaanesh's influence on him, and Lucius even wanted to beg for mercy from the warrior behind him.

But before he could say anything, the warrior's sword fell and his head rolled to the ground.

The Empire has no mercy, and the Doom Slayers will have no mercy. They will pursue the gods and their minions for eternity until they are destroyed, until they die.

In the maelstrom of the Eye of Terror, the light in the sky of Belia IV has become extremely strange.

It seems that it has been separated from its original position, and the various colors are mixed together.

The fleet of the Chaos forces above the sky suffered heavy casualties, and there were countless corpses floating in the colorful void.

Those pirate alien races and the fleet composed of Chaos warbands also suffered heavy losses.

They had no loyalty at all. In this situation, they completely lost the courage to continue fighting and withdrew from the battlefield one after another.

Plague Ark, Skull Fortress, Bloody Comet, Crystal Tower, the chaotic creations of the gods are also vulnerable, and fragments are thrown down from the stars.

Duker stepped off the throne. He looked down at the world of Belial IV, and after a moment of reflection, he prepared to airborne himself.

The giant city-like temple puzzled him. No similar building had ever been found in the ruins of chaos in the past.

In the past, even if cultists worshiped gods, they would only use the architectural structure of the Chaos Eight-Pointed Star - but this temple has a ninth god's throne in the center.

The Creator of the place where all directions meet, the beginning and end of everything. He represents the chaos itself and is the end of everything.

As long as the universe still exists, this god's throne should remain vacant forever, and even the most crazed cultists have never worshiped him.

If there is anyone in the universe who is closest to this god, there is no doubt that it is Dukel himself.

This god, who has never been worshiped before, stands abruptly on this planet, and was created under the supervision of the Great Word Bearer himself.

It was necessary for Duker to find out for himself.

On the ground battlefield.

In front of Asmodei was a huge, swollen monster, with damp filth covering his armor. Those layers of armor were like slippery scales, causing discomfort.

Unknown filth is sealed in the gaps between these armor pieces. The flesh and blood in the ceramic armor that protects the torso and one leg has rotted away.

The human traitor became bloated and powerful because of the god he worshiped.

"Asmodai, a famous warrior of the Dark Angels, but you are nothing. Even if you die here today, your death is not worth anything to the damned, to the Imperial Warmaster, or even to your original body. Mention. Because you are insignificant, you bow down and acknowledge him as your father, but they only regard you as a relatively handy tool."

The demon hissed, bewitching Asmodai's heart.

He laughed teasingly, as if laughing at the futility of his efforts.

Asmodai gritted his teeth. Rationally, he understood the purpose of the other party's words, but the other party's words carried subtle psychic fluctuations and had the power to penetrate people's hearts.

The interrogation priest of the Dark Angel unconsciously recalled the cold reception he received from the Lion King, and he felt a little shaken in his heart.

Asmodei felt ashamed of this wavering. He roared and attacked, waving the weapon in his hand with all his strength.

There was a whistling sound in the air.

The fallen warrior saw his strength on the outside and his strength in the middle, and let out an annoying laugh. His seemingly bloated body did not weaken his speed at all.

His bone club missed Asmodai's war blade and easily defused the attack.

Every fallen warrior is a veteran who has experienced hundreds of battles. Their fighting skills are impeccable and they can easily cope with such direct brute force attacks.

The origin of the bone stick in his hand cannot be ascertained.

Only in the oldest documents can we find a few words about this weapon.

The bone rod was covered with moss and cracks. Such a weapon should have broken long ago, but even after such a powerful collision, it was still undamaged.

"The false emperor's country has new technology. I admit that you may be stronger than me, but I have been fighting in this long war for thousands of years. Little guy, you still have a lot to learn. "The fallen warrior sneered,

"It's a pity that you no longer have the chance to study. Your insignificant life will die here."

Asmodai did not give up. He adjusted his breathing and continued to attack with his chain sword.

The power of the Primordial Space Marines is indeed far greater than that of the Fallen Warriors. Every attack he makes sets off a roar that tears through the atmosphere.

But the fallen warrior was not afraid. He relied on his superb skills to fight Asmodeus.

Asmodai had experienced a long battle before. His power armor had been broken. Electric sparks ejected from the broken gap, and the fine metal structure and circuit boards inside could be vaguely seen.

Pain burned the nerves where the armor met the skin.

The damage of the power armor was fed back to him, and the Fallen Warrior also saw these weaknesses and continued to expand the damage of the power armor.

In the series of severe injuries, Asmodai could only grit his teeth tightly to prevent himself from letting out a shameful cry of pain.

He participated in the battle for dozens of days without stopping, and he still chooses to fight on the front line until now.

What has been supporting him in continuing to fight is not only his guilt for the saint, but also his hatred for the traitors.

In front of the fallen warrior, he would never allow himself to show any weakness and become the laughing stock of the other party.

He will defeat his opponents and tear off the traitor's head with his own hands.

But as the battle continued, his armor was on the verge of being scrapped, but the fallen warrior became more courageous as he fought.

The war situation became increasingly unfavorable for Asmodai.

He panted violently, enduring the opponent's blows and verbal humiliation, looking for the opportunity to strike a fatal blow.

But in the end,

"boom!"

Amidst the dull collision, the weapon in Asmodei's hand was thrown away by the opponent.

This is a very bad situation. Asmodai, who lost his weapon, can only fight with his bare hands.

Although the Primaris transformation gave him greater endurance and strength, under the attack of the opponent's extraordinary martial arts, his body gradually reached the edge of collapse.

When the opponent's bone club swung at him, Asmodai narrowly avoided the fatal blow.

At the same time, he stretched out his hand, took the opportunity to snatch the opponent's weapon, and threw it far away.

This bone rod is a creation of the devil. He cannot use it. Even if he holds it in his hand for a long time, it will be corrupted and backfired.

But in the fight of fists and kicks, it was still difficult for him to gain an advantage.

The other party punched him to the ground and pinned him to the ground.

"Let me watch you wail and die in pain."

The fallen warrior tore open the flesh on his arm, revealing a sharp bone spur. He aimed the plague-wrapped bone spur at the back of Asmodai's head.

Following the other party's crazy words, Asmodai's helmet was torn open, and his body was exposed to the air.

The smell of burning air.

The stench of fallen warriors.

There was also the stench of rotting corpses.

Countless flavors flooded into his nasal cavity.

Asmodai instantly felt dizzy and vomiting.

He roared angrily and used brute strength to break free from the opponent's restraints.

But the opponent used the bone spurs on his arm as a weapon and rushed over with a ferocious smile again. This time the bone spurs were aimed at his throat.

Asmodai no longer had the energy to dodge.

Can a sinner like me return to the throne?

The second before death came, Asmodai suddenly thought in his heart.

Endless whispers echoed in his ears, all seeming to scream for his death.

At this moment, there was no fear in his heart, only regret, unwillingness, and reflection on his life.

He is the most radical of the Dark Angels, so much so that when the Grand Master listens to his opinions, he will adopt them selectively.

Even his genetic father couldn't stand him, which made him suffer internally for a long time.

Just as he thought that the rest of his life would be hidden in the snow, like a sealed dagger, gradually rusting and rotting.

But at this time, the Warmaster and the Saint gave him trust, allowed him to return to his beloved career, and adopted his opinions.

And what has he done?

His stubborn advice brought the Imperial fleet to its knees, and even the Warmaster himself was forced to tread dangerous ground.

He would not regret his death.

Finally, it's all over.

He was not afraid of death, nor was he afraid of his soul falling into the hands of the devil. He just wanted to atone for his sins. Even if his soul returned to the throne, he had no face to see His Majesty and stand among the great heroes.

In a trance, he saw a huge ring of thorns burning with golden flames covering everything.

With a "bang", the bone spurs of the fallen warrior were right in front of Asmodai, but they could no longer move forward.

The swollen head exploded, and the foul-smelling blood splashed on his face.

But he didn't care about these, but turned his head quickly to see which hero saved him.

When Asmodai's eyes were cast there, his breathing stagnated.

He was a giant among giants. Even if he was a Primaris Space Marine, his height only reached the opponent's waistline. The black, gold and red power armor, the blood-like cloak fluttered behind him, as if he could cover everything under his command.

The giant held a huge flag in one hand, and the golden sky eagle on the flag illuminated the universe.

In the other hand, he held a sword burning with red flames and stepped forward.

Beside him, countless tall and proud warriors roared, and they tried their best to let this greatest commander move unimpeded in the demonic tide.

With the slashing of the power sword and the roar of the grenade launcher, the blasphemer and the betrayer were cut and their bodies were thrown out.

The dirty and unclean blood of the blasphemer stained the earth.

The roar of the war seemed to be far away in the world of Asmodai when the giant appeared.

The giant walked in front of Asmodai, picked up the weapon he had dropped before, and returned it to him.

"Take your weapon, boy, can you continue to fight for me?"

The other party's voice was as loud as a war drum, and his tone was a little casual, but it contained the courage to take on everything. This man was like a natural commander, born to be the banner that all warriors followed.

Asmodai took the weapon in his hand, and a surge of blood burned in his chest.

"Of course!" He responded loudly, his voice was loud and full of fighting spirit, that was the battle cry of a warrior.

"Then stand up quickly and tell your enemies that your anger and strength are far more than this!"

The words of the giant were like an endless flame, instantly igniting his mind and making his heart beat more violently than ever before.

Asmodai's body was filled with strength in an instant, and the fatigue left over from the long battle disappeared. He immediately stood up again and threw himself into the war.

Following behind the giant, no one could stop the giant and his army.

Every hero who followed the giant held his weapon tightly, their formation was neat and disciplined.

Asmodai stood among them, expelling the ugly demons.

They had gained an absolute advantage.

The remaining demons and the traitors were still making a final stubborn resistance.

The cultists and demons who resisted stubbornly, holding on to the simple fortifications, were making a futile persistence.

The dark gods had long abandoned them, and they only joined the battlefield as expendable cannon fodder.

But they were completely unaware of this, and they still shouted the names of the gods, trying to win their favor.

"For the Warmaster, for the Emperor!"

Like other fearless heroes, Asmodai shouted the title of the Giant Commander, fighting for him, fighting for the throne and the common ideals of mankind. They faced the Chaos bombardment and launched a heroic charge,

"For the Warmaster, for the Emperor!!!"