Man in Warhammer, starting Primarch.

Chapter 238:45, Death of Abaddon
The red-armored warrior is about to cut off Abaddon's swollen head.

"What would happen if Abaddon didn't die here?" Horus, who was bound in chains, suddenly asked the scholar.

"The future you see will be changed, and everything is unpredictable," the scholar replied.

Horus fell silent, and when he stopped resisting and calmed the anger and confusion in his heart, the shackles on his body were freed from him.

"Let me kill him with my own hands," he said to the scholar with determination.

"Oh?" The scholar showed a hint of surprise. Horus's choice did not seem to be part of his destiny.

"Meahahahaha." He laughed out loud. Horus's unexpected decision seemed to make him very happy.

"The world is ever changing, blessings and disasters follow each other, suffering is followed by sweetness, fate makes all beings fearful and empty, it is vicious and cruel in a thousand turns, and all things are in vain."

Horus said nothing.

His companion was very wise and almost like a demon, but he was a little neurotic most of the time.

He didn't understand what the scholar was saying, nor did he want to understand.

Then he saw the scholar handing a crystal dagger into his hands.

"Hope is the deadly poison in the universe. It will prolong the pain and make the dying people suffer." The scholar stopped laughing and said meaningfully.

Horus took the dagger, and his gaze towards Abaddon became more determined.

Abaddon fell to the ground covered in wounds, unclean blood flowing from his wounds. As his vitality rapidly weakened, the impact of the gods' blessing on him became more serious.

He became confused and stupid, gasping for breath, barely surviving, no longer his former charm.

With a "puff" sound, the dark warlord made his exit. There was no spectacular war, no exciting competition, but just a room covered in blood as an exquisite crystal dagger pierced into his swollen and smelly body.

Just as easily as a steel needle piercing into a rubber ball, his body, which once possessed infinite power, quickly shriveled up.

In the last moment of his life, Abaddon seemed to finally have the precious clarity. He woke up, rationality dotted his eyes. He looked at Horus with these clear eyes, and complex sadness overflowed from his eyes.

"I will not apologize to you, nor will I ask for your forgiveness. We are both equally arrogant, father." He said to Horus.

"Stay away from these people. They are not your companions. Stay away from power and ambition that do not belong to you. Do not let tragedy happen to us, father and son, again."

"Stay away from them!"

Abaddon used his last breath to send a warning to Horus.

He died at the hands of his biological father's blood relatives.

Horus watched his demise in silence. He originally thought that he no longer had any feelings for this offspring, but when this moment came, the sadness in his heart was still hard to suppress.

Blood relatives killing each other, blood relatives rebelling against each other, this is the greatest tragedy in the galaxy.

His whole body was shrouded in a sad atmosphere, but he did not notice that his four trusted companions were staring at him with different expressions.

There were jokes, mockery, disdain and joy. But no one sympathized with him.

the other side.

In the huge subspace storm called the Eye of Terror, countless entities are deeply afraid of this place and no one dares to approach it.

But at this moment, a fleet of the Human Empire was rampaging here.

Just like the repeated invasions of humans by demons.

In the turbulent warp space, the Imperial fleet also sounded the clarion call for a counterattack.

These ships with wrinkled hulls and magnificent huge shapes rapidly moved in the bizarre warp space.

The huge ships were lined up side by side, like a coherent and huge Gothic building complex, as if they were churches themselves, but had been converted into warships.

They shuttled through the dark yet colorful sea of ​​souls, the violent warp storms, and the hideous blasphemous creatures, but all their efforts were in vain due to the obstruction of their mental force fields.

Plasma flames spewed from the tail of the giant ship, providing power for the huge battleship.

At the forefront of this fleet was a flagship inlaid with a brilliant golden double-headed eagle emblem.

More ships were lined up behind the flagship. More than a hundred giant ships were arranged in a sharp array, like a sharp spear about to pierce the enemy.

There are thousands of soldiers on each giant ship. What they have to do is to spread the destructive will of the Warmaster and the Emperor equally to every demon world.

Destruction is the end, the gospel, and the fire that cleanses sin.

This huge fleet has spread the gospel of the empire to dozens of demon worlds. In the raging flames, the unclean and evil worlds were burned to ashes.

A large number of high-level demons were captured and locked in iron cages under strict guard.

"We will bring the fire of destruction to all that is unclean."

This was said by Saint Efilar in the firelight, and no imperial official doubted its truth.

Under the pressure of the fleet, dozens of dark stars have been ignited by the fire of destruction.

Countless demons either died tragically or were imprisoned in warehouses. As the giant ship sailed across the sea of ​​souls, the wailing of the captured demons was always heard.

But no one found it irritating; on the contrary, being able to hear the demons' howling was a great enjoyment for every imperial soldier, and they were extremely tolerant of the noise.

With their strong ships and powerful guns, they were like reckless people rushing through the swamp, but nothing was able to stop them.

They are invincible, and even the devil's base will be set on fire and destroyed in an instant.

A psyker from the Astronomican moved swiftly through the corridors of the Devotion, holding an electronic board reflecting a dim white light in front of his chest.

He was an ascetic and his body was very thin. Years of asceticism had left no room for fat on his body.

Runes representing the Emperor are carved on his bald head to declare his piety to everyone.

He serves a great cause, following a daring fleet on its assault into the Warp.

He was well aware of the dangers involved, but like most people here, he did not care about the dangers that could come at any time. If necessary, he would sacrifice his insignificant life for the Emperor, the Warmaster, and the common ideals of all mankind.

He walked briskly through the winding, maze-like corridors.

Passing through the main gun deck that emitted thunderous noise and foul odor.

Then they walked all the way until they arrived at the rest cabin of the Astartes monks.

Those tall Primaris Space Marines did not complain about his arrival. The Astartes showed respect to the mortals with loyal beliefs, and then made way for them to continue moving forward.

When he passed through the corridors lined with flags of honor and the Avenue of Glory lined with statues of warmasters, he finally arrived at his destination.

The office of the fleet's commander-in-chief, the living saint Efilar.

At this time, the agent of the war commander's will was still diligently watching the hologram in front of him. A group of senior military leaders sat on both sides of the office, making various deployments through the virtual communication system.

The arrival of the Astropathic Court psyker interrupted the conversation between Efilar and the military leader.

"Is there anything wrong?" Saint Efilar saw him first and asked him.

"My lord, I feel a little strange. I have been feeling uneasy these days. This is an extraordinary intuition, which may indicate a real crisis. I boldly ask you to return and report the situation here to Warmaster Dukel. In my prediction, the place where Abaddon and the Spirit of Vengeance are is already a place of trouble and is no longer suitable for us to go."

Efilar did not answer immediately, but fell into deep thought.

The psychic's prophecy cannot be ignored, but the fleet is already halfway through its journey and evacuation is not an easy task.

But the interrogation priest from the Dark Angels could not tolerate this proposal.

Asmodai was worried that the psychic's suggestion would shake the Saint's determination to conquer the Chaos Warmaster, so he spoke first.

"Don't worry, sir. We have obtained sufficiently accurate intelligence. The people following Abaddon are just a bunch of insignificant rabble. This is a great opportunity for us to cut off his head and present it to Lord Dukel. Warmaster Dukel will be delighted by this. If we miss this opportunity, Abaddon will make a comeback, which will inevitably cause great damage to the empire, and the Warmaster will be angry about it."

As a senior interrogator, Asmodai has a deep understanding of human beings. In order to make Efilar stick to his original intention, he mentioned Duker three times in one sentence.

He knew very well that only the joy of the warmaster was the supreme reward sought by the saint before him.

"As long as we can present Abaddon's head to the Warmaster, the glory of this victory will once again add to the glory of the Warmaster. His achievements are unprecedented and unparalleled. Millions of worlds in the Imperium will be convinced by the Warmaster, and thousands of wills will unite under the Warmaster's command. We will see the greatest supreme commander in human history walk among the stars."

After hearing Asmodai's words, Aiferal knew the purpose of his words, but when she thought of the picture he had painted, her flawless and holy face couldn't help but reveal a yearning for this future.

As long as they can win the warp battle and successfully kill Abaddon.

The Warmaster's authority in the Empire will rise to an unprecedented level. No one will dare to refute the Warmaster's will. Thousands of wills will be united as a result, and the common dream of mankind will be within reach.

This is a great thing for the empire and for everyone.

Efilar recalled the inexhaustible courage that always burned in Duker's eyes, and finally made up his mind.

"Don't worry about the dangers ahead. When we set out for the stars, we were already determined to die, weren't we?" She looked at the psychic and continued,

"If our humble bodies can contribute to a greater human empire, if our lives can accomplish such a great cause, how can we tolerate ourselves standing still?"

"We will not fear the swords of a thousand swords, if we have a chance to fulfill the ideals shared by the Emperor, the Warmaster, and all of humanity. A future free of darkness and pain for mankind is the future we die for."

In Efilar's eyes filled with devout faith, the psychic saw the saint's determination, and he lowered his head in shame.

He was convinced by the saint that if he could use his meager life to fight for a bright future for mankind, then how could death be considered a bad thing?

The army led by Saint Efilar all possess extraordinary willpower and strong psychological endurance.

They had long been prepared to sacrifice themselves for the Empire, and the massive fleet continued to move forward in the Warp, shuttling through indescribable dimensions, heading towards the coordinates of Abaddon.

They vowed to eradicate this traitor who had launched thirteen consecutive black crusades against the human empire.

But it was all a vicious conspiracy.

Everything is in the plan of the Lord of Destiny.

The High King did not lie, and neither did the cultists. All the information Asmodai obtained through interrogation was absolutely true.

But what they knew was what the Lord of Destiny wanted them to know.

Abaddon died before they arrived.

This time, they were about to encounter a being more dangerous and terrifying than Abaddon. They were facing the former Warmaster, Horus, who possessed greater power and a more far-reaching strategic vision.

Horus paid no heed to Abaddon's dying warning.

Or maybe he cared, but just didn't show it.

Following the advice of his friends, Horus united Abaddon's legions and took this dark power for himself.

He had a stronger hand than Abaddon and was far more powerful than Abaddon, so it was not difficult for him to do this.

All demons who attempted to rebel were ruthlessly torn to pieces by Horus.

Horus seemed very impatient, although he also found that these four companions were not as trustworthy as he had imagined.

But he knew very well that he had entered the game of competing against Duke for time and he had no time to think about these things.

In order to prevent Dukel from dragging the universe into ultimate destruction, Chaos Demon is also a force that he can use.

As the demon legions arrived to join his ranks, Horus also became aware of the arrival of the Ephirral fleet.

In order to kill the enemy with one blow, Horus did not choose to confront the Imperial fleet head-on, but instead played a trick.

Horus was the first Primarch to return, and the first Primarch to participate in the Great Crusade.

Before the Great Crusade began, he followed the Emperor and studied for decades. That was the happiest time of his life. At that time, the Emperor was like a patient and kind father, teaching him tirelessly.

The Emperor taught Horus how to be a perfect commander while preparing for the Great Crusade.

It can be said that Horus received the most love from the Emperor and learned the most from the Emperor.

He then participated in the great crusade of the entire human empire and grew up with the legion.

Although he had failed, his military talent and personal bravery were obvious to all.

When Saint Efilar's fleet unknowingly sailed into the ambush circle set up for them by Horus in advance.

Horus gave the order immediately.

In an instant, the sea of ​​​​the soul went violent.

Waves of madness come one after another and seem to never stop.

A turbulent whirlpool, a raging storm.

In just a moment, the imperial fleet, as sharp as a spear, suffered a head-on blow.

(End of this chapter)