Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

War, war.

Fanatical war.

The great war.

There is only war in the galaxy.

War is the father of all things, war is the suffering of all living beings, war is the end of everything, the fire sickle of purgatory, it equally devours all fools who dare to release it, wantonly ravages every chess piece that is unfortunate enough to be involved in the vortex, and destroys all The morality and ugliness were swallowed into the belly, leaving only the devastation of iron and blood.

It will defeat anyone, it will kill anyone, it will spare no one.

Even the God of War is no exception.

Even the God of War is not immune.

…

When the God of Blood, entrenched on the brass throne, held the entire Nuceria in his palm early on, he might never have thought that the opponents he was waiting for, those tiny little ones who had belatedly arrived, What kind of will will the race use as an answer to the Blood God?

But it will soon be known.

The horn of assembly sounded from the deepest part of the giant ship, shattering the vast and confused dreams in the red sand wasteland. The light spears, macro cannons and the anger of the soldiers ignited the sky of all sizes, illuminating thousands of airdrop pods. The way forward sounds the death knell for tyrannical madness.

When the engine of war begins to run, when the primarch's wrath falls from the sky, even the beating drums in the brass fortress seem so fragmented and embarrassing.

This is humanity’s response to the Blood God, to the traps it has set by its own hands, and to the infinite delusions, hypocrisy, cunning and greed in its heart:

The sword is unsheathed.

The warrior wields his sword.

This sword will turn the entire Nukeria into a boundless purgatory.

This sword will plunge the burning brass throne into deathly silence.

It is this sword that will retaliate to the Blood God in his own way.

Let the warriors take up arms.

Let the primarch of humanity return.

Let the angry blade strike the face of the war lord.

Let the scarred roar echo forever in the highest heaven.

This is...the day of God's wrath.

——————

The war has begun.

——————

anger……

pain……

crazy……

Kill!

Angron knelt on the ground, breathing heavily, his stomach spasmed, and he vomited blood. His already chaotic brain had turned into a puddle due to the weightlessness and complications caused by the airdrop craft's rapid landing at all costs. A boiling lake of blood.

At the very center of the Blood Lake, the Butcher's Nail has never been more powerful.

This damn evil was excited to the point of being uncontrollable because of the unprecedented grand performance. It smelled the irony of war in the blood, heard the sound of tens of millions of blood rivers flowing, and knew that it would What a grand show of slaughter has descended on this world: who will weep bitterly in this massacre? It doesn't care.

Just like its crazy creator, the Butcher's Nail only inflicts pain and thirsts for blood. It never cares where the flowing river of blood will come from?

As long as blood can flow, even if the world perishes.

Butcher's Nail thought so, and so did Angron the moment he landed.

The children of the mountain were driven by anger, like a rancher's whip on an ox that refused to walk. It was a pain that cannot be described in words, enough to swallow the world, enough to evaporate the ocean, and destroy every inch of Angron. His veins were filled with rage, causing his broken body to burn in the fire.

Angron's face began to spasm and twitch uncontrollably, his limbs trembled, and even standing seemed disorganized. His senses became distorted and powerful. Sometimes he was blinded by severe pain, and sometimes he could smell something different. The bloody smell of existence: But in the end, he still heard the most distant sound.

It seemed to be a gunshot, or a few wails, or it might be something else unrelated: but that is not important anymore, just like the ringing of a midnight bell, it was a call from beyond the horizon, success. The earth awakened fury in the Primarch's heart.

Angron started running.

He roared, tearing apart the pieces of the airdrop craft surrounding him. His spasmodic toes made him stumble even when he stood up, but his bloodthirsty rage defeated it all: when he raised his head, Ange Like a hound looking for food, Long carefully sniffed the smell of blood in the air. Then, he looked at the front covered by the wind and sand, and then started running without hesitation.

Running, charging, roaring, and even using all four limbs, the Blood God called out to the slaves of the Butcher's Nails in the war drum. The roar of the Son of the Mountain was even greater than the pain in his mind. He rushed towards the battlefield furiously, leaving only There was a streak of bloody sand.

He looked for his opponent, but the road was so empty. The cowardly high-level riders had already fled, and the landing place chosen by the Lord of Avalon was so tricky that it was far away from the real battlefield.

Soon, Angron barked in dissatisfaction because he found that he was so far away from the core of the killing. The airdrop boat did bring him to the edge of the snowy mountains that once surrounded the rebel army, but at this time, those tall The army of the Order Riders is no longer here: the huge warships on the clouds cast a shadow that was enough to cover the mountains, making these timid maggots cower and hurriedly retreat behind their city walls.

They drove their own anti-gravity armor and spacecraft, running so fast. Some people went straight to the inner area of ​​the castle built around the dueling arena, while others hid in their own private bunkers, but their belated fear was destined to be unforgivable: just as every high-level rider While instinctively looking for a hiding place, a thunderstorm covering the sky fell equally on everyone's head.

The original body and the legion, the sharp blade of the empire pierced the land of Nuceria, causing countless dignitaries to scream, and also made the distant bloody sky fall into silence: the blood god's rolling thunder was because of these warriors who came out. The pause paused, and it seemed to be confused by the actions of the Human Empire.

But soon, any powerful psychic can feel a joy coming from the depths of the highest heaven: Although the Lord on the Brass Throne does not understand why this small group of races would step into it so madly trap, but it also knew another thing.

war.

A war is coming.

So, when the iron boots of the first Astartes warrior stepped on the red sand soil of Nuceria, if the warrior pricked up his ears carefully, he could hear the war drums coming from the depths of the subspace. Lele.

The Blood God sings the praises of war. No matter when, where, or who launches a war against whom, it will receive its unanimous approval. It watches with satisfaction as the armies of the Human Empire unfold their formations in an orderly manner, concentrating their maximum firepower on On a limited battlefield, they do not spread out to carry out massacres.

The Blood God realized that this would not be a huge war, which made it regretful, but it also realized that this might be an extremely exciting contest: thus, the long-lost excitement took over the face of the Blood God.

I saw that the Dawnbreakers and Night Lords who landed first were not in a hurry to advance their respective fronts. They used their companies as the tip of the pen to demarcate the battlefield boundaries, delineating the targets that needed to be attacked by subsequent friendly forces: So when the battle When the canine army descended upon them in a few minutes, they only needed one glance to know where to point their chainsaws.

Of course, the moment they stepped onto the red sand, the Twelfth Legion began to charge. The whole army charged. Every soldier, under the call of their company commander, almost recklessly rushed towards the city wall in front of them. , this is an unstoppable wild force: it only took them a few minutes to cross the open area at the edge of the battlefield, grabbing and tearing apart the senior riders who had not yet had time to escape behind the city wall. When a war dog roared and climbed up the city wall, the last airdrop pod had not even stopped on the surface.

The war dogs devoted themselves to this killing with the simplest fury. They did not know what the enemy in front of them had done, nor did they know the strategic significance of the city, but before they landed on the surface, the genetic origin of the Dawnbreaker The body has transmitted the necessary information to the minds of every son of Angron.

They were told that their father had been troubled by the madness, corruption and bloodshed of this world; they were told that the city in front of them had been a steel cage that their genetic father had to face for a long time; They were hinted that as they tore apart the screaming maggots and burned entire cities to the ground, in the ashes, in the ruins, they would see the mountain-high figure of their genetic father: He had always been there here.

Come to the surface and he will fight alongside them.

that's enough.

The noble fury and iron-like discipline of the war dogs were forged together into a heavy hammer, smashing the wall of illusion in front of them: When the captain of the eighth company named Kahn and his soldiers occupied the main city gate At that time, nothing could stop the Twelfth Legion from completing the only mission in their minds.

This flashy city was completely burned to the ground.

Behind them, the other two legions involved in the war seemed particularly silent: neither the Night Lords nor the Dawnbreakers participated in the frontline massacre operations. They wandered on the edge of the battlefield, cautiously. To make sure that this bloody war would not turn into an out-of-control massacre, at the same time, they also tried their best to plunder the fallen high-level riders and their bodyguards for creations that would make the forging world jealous.

The most elite teams either took advantage of the chaos and rushed to the center of the city to search for priceless technological blueprints, or they covered a strange-looking silver figure and escorted the huge black stone pillars, one after another. At the very edge of the battlefield.

Everyone was performing their duties, quietly and efficiently. Only the war dogs rushed left and right in the blazing fire of the city. They slaughtered every high-level rider they could find while searching for their victims in the ruins. Father of Genes: Wherever you look, apart from countless scum who still need to beheaded, you can't see the figure they are longing for.

Where is he!

Every war dog roared.

They don't know, and every war dog doesn't know: their genetic father is not in this burning city, but in another direction on the battlefield. He is charging towards the city at a completely opposite angle. , because of the smell of blood on the edge of the battlefield, he fell into almost madness.

Behind him, there was only the slowly rolling up red sand, and the proud and ferocious laughter of the Blood God on the brass throne: while the Blood God watched this pleasing battle, he also witnessed the Primarch as if he were in captivity. Like a hound, it rushes to the battlefield as it wishes.

However, the blood god's ferocious laughter did not echo for long, and even had no time to spread to every corner of Nuceria before it was blocked by the sound waves from the real universe: the sound waves were none other than those who The black stone device was hurriedly stood on the red sand and guarded by the most elite Dawnbreakers.

When their number reached a level, the figure in the silver robe quietly pressed the switch, and the invisible secondary wave set off huge waves in the sea of ​​souls that the world could not see, even causing The aura of subspace surrounding Nuceria has dimmed by a level, becoming increasingly declining.

At that moment, even the war dogs in the center of the bloody battle invariably restored their iron discipline: the scattered slaughter and search gradually stopped, some people began to carefully pursue the survivors, and others They concentrated on searching for their genetic father, even turning a blind eye to the civilians who fled in the fire.

…

After a long absence, the Blood God frowned.

Because it saw that as the invisible waves swept across Nuceria, Angron's footsteps became sluggish: the Butcher's Nail was still buzzing, but the Primarch's sanity was not consumed after all. Finally, he fell to the ground in embarrassment and raised his head. His pupils were still red, but there was still a trace of human reason in the deepest part.

That reason told Angron: Compared with war and killing, compared with tearing the bodies of those high-level riders like wild beasts, he had a more important thing to do.

Yes, of course he should die and follow in the footsteps of his battle brothers, but there was something more important than his life.

He clearly remembered the dark blue armor he saw on the imperial battleship, the dark blue armor that kidnapped his four most important battle brothers: those people were not lackeys from high-ranking riders. , they are the warriors of the human empire in front of them.

In other words, the battle brothers who were kidnapped by them, his Yochuka, and his brothers and sisters: may still be alive, and may be somewhere in this world, waiting for him to find Before his death, he could not abandon these most important people.

"..."

Yes, they cannot be abandoned...

Reason is calling and thinking is jumping. The brotherhood that has always supported the Primarch is like a rushing river, fighting against the madness of the Butcher's Nail with infinite power.

On the brass throne, the Blood Lord looked at all this angrily. His violent temper ignited a little anger, and in an instant, countless demons were born out of thin air, and they were crushed to pieces in extreme pain, but When the endless fire in the subspace spread to the sky of Nuceria, it was blocked by the invisible shield.

The Lord of Solonams is still in action. It has received the highest authorization. Countless small black stone devices have been set up, from a dozen to dozens to three digits. When they form a magic circle At that time, it was even able to withstand the anger from the gods. Although it still seemed shaky, it was as unshakable as a mountain.

But this is not the final chapter, because this brief setback cannot defeat the God of War: on the contrary, after realizing that the development of things has exceeded its expectations, on the burning brass throne, the real Anger burned like a roaring hurricane.

The Blood God clenched its fist.

at this moment.

It finally: descended into rage.

The gods became angry.

——————

[But, it doesn’t help. 】

Morgan smiled, waved his hand, and closed the cracks in the shield formed by the black stone device that mortals could not see: This was just a trace of anger leaked by the Blood God, and the whole world was enveloped by the storm.

But it didn't exceed her expectations.

In other words, the wrath of the Blood God was within Morgan's plan from the beginning. She knew that only when the wrath of this god truly emerged from the subspace, would this war for Angron be possible? Deadlock.

And now, everything has just begun.

The Lord of Avalon raised his head.

[Let’s start taking action. 】

She whispered softly, and then sent out the slender ghost: Conrad's serious face and his long black hair escaped into the wind and sand of Nukelia, disappearing where Angron was. In that direction, behind him were closely following several of his descendants headed by Severita.

After watching them go away, the original body slowly tightened her palms: Morgan felt the sweat left on her palms: that was her inevitable nervousness.

After a long absence, the Lord of Avalon finally entered the battlefield again.

This time, she was going to fight.

A raging god himself.