Man in Warhammer, starting Primarch.

Chapter 242: 49, Mass Production of Saints

The demon army consisting of arsonists and laughing monsters rushed to the front line of the battlefield, followed closely by the Red Corsair Warband. Each of these elite fallen warriors was wearing heavy armor.

Dukel waved the sword in his hand like an unstoppable storm on the battlefield. He laughed heartily and launched a frontal charge against the devil without any hesitation.

Battle-Sister Adeline of the Silver Robe Sisters, led her battle sisters to cover the Imperial Warmaster's charge from the flank.

Several Grey Knights, together with the Sisters of Silence, charged into the enemy camp from another direction. Weapons clashed, and the battle was cruel and bloody.

The battle cries of the empire and the screams of the demons entangled together, and blood was everywhere in the fighting on the battlefield.

Dukel was so tall and huge that even the strongest demons were like weak goats in front of him.

He swept through the coalition of traitors and demons like a tiger, bringing equal destruction to them all.

He swung the sword in his hand up and down. His martial arts were extremely skillful. What he did did not seem like a bloody fight, but rather an elegant and gorgeous dance that was filled with murderous intent.

He used powerful forces with ease, and with the violent energy under his complete control, he could take away everything from powerful demons with ease.

Every time he swung his sword, one or more enemies would be disintegrated.

The demon exploded into balls of shattered blue flames in the face of Dukel's unparalleled power.

Any traitor who dares to stand in the way will be shattered like a puppet, even if he is a fallen warrior with a strong steel body.

With a loud "bang", Dukel's iron fists punched out with force, bursting out powerful energy and directly blowing up a Chaos Wizard.

The warp energy contained in the wizard's body suddenly poured out violently, stirring up a violent vortex on the battlefield.

The air currents were stirred wantonly, and the strong wind destroyed everything on the battlefield. Dukel's long black hair was dancing as he faced the mighty charge of the Red Pirate Chaos Warriors.

The Red Corsairs roared and charged at the Primarch.

But in just a moment, they were all transformed into pieces of flesh wrapped in steel. The process was so quick that even the Primaris Space Marines nearby did not see clearly what had just happened.

In just a moment, the bodies of five hundred powerful red pirates rolled to pieces on the battlefield.

Dukel began to run faster, his tall body showing a speed that was unimaginable for mortals. He faced the torrent of explosive bombs poured down from the Red Pirates.

Like a hero in epic mythology, he led his warriors to charge.

The explosive bomb had great impact and penetrating power, but it did not leave even a dent on the surface of the Warmaster's armor.

Amid the impact of armor and explosives, the roar of a dragon could be heard faintly, accompanied by a pure and angry dragon's roar.

Dukel fell into the center of the enemy's position like a meteor, and a champion of the Red Corsair was beheaded by him with one sword, leaving a long trail of blood on the land where the champion had stood in his lifetime.

He punched the arsonist demon, and before the powerful demon could react, its body exploded.

The pink horror tried to sneak attack the primarch, bright flames leaped from its fingertips, but when the flames covered a position less than a foot away from the primarch.

Suddenly, a giant dragon's roar exploded clearly in the pink monster's consciousness, and the bright flames dissipated in mid-air. The pink monster still had a triumphant smile on its face, but its soft body had already collapsed powerlessly on the ground.

On this battlefield, there are fallen warriors blessed by Chaos, and powerful demons representing trickery and vicious spells.

If any one of them appears in the real universe, it will bring doomsday disaster to one or more worlds.

But this time, they were no longer facing unarmed mortals, but armored human guardians led by the Imperial Warmaster himself.

Dukel led the warriors and destroyed the enemy's resistance with crushing force. Amid their battle cries, the demons realized for the first time the horror of humans.

Every attack by the loyalists was unstoppable, and no demons or traitors could stand against them.

Even if a demon was lucky enough to fight back before death, all he would gain was a slight scratch on the surface of his solid armor.

Sister Adeline of the Silver Sisters looked towards the Primarch during the battle. Seeing the tall and majestic body of a demigod, as a devout believer of the Emperor, she could hardly contain her excitement at the scene.

The son of a God-Emperor, the undefeated God of War leads the warriors of the Empire in a bloody reckoning with the darkness that has lingered around the Empire for ten thousand years.

She was very glad to be a part of this war, which was the greatest cause of her life. Nothing was better than following a great commander and working together to achieve the ideals of all mankind.

"Blessings to you, your honor." Adeline looked up at the Warmaster's face. The height difference of several times between them forced her to do so.

She blessed the Primarch from the bottom of her heart, and a tear of excitement rolled down her eye socket.

"Thank you, my Emperor. We are so insignificant that we have no reason to be favored by you. You have sent your son to us again and given us hope and salvation."

She prayed to the Emperor in her heart, but at this moment, a loud noise came from not far away, and a red pirate wielded a serrated sword like a shark's teeth and rushed straight towards Sister Adeline.

This experienced fallen warrior keenly noticed that Adeline was distracted on the battlefield and seized this fleeting opportunity.

But he was wrong, and it was a mistake that was doomed to be irreparable.

He hadn't even gotten within ten meters of Adeline when the strong body he thought he had was melted by the blazing golden light.

Like a tiny snowflake facing the scorching sun, in just a moment, the fallen warrior melted on the battlefield.

The nuns who were still fighting around all looked sideways when they saw this strange sight.

After a moment's astonishment, their eyes were filled with unanimous envy and blessings.

A familiar and powerful force is burning in Sister Adeline.

The nuns understood that their sister had received inspiration from the God-Emperor through her piety and purity.

In this golden flame, the nun's mortal body will be burned up, and from then on she will walk in this mortal world with the sacred posture of a saint.

When the existence of the saint was announced, it became the nuns' lifelong goal and the best proof of their pure faith.

But for the vast majority of nuns, saints are ultimately just vague legends in mythology.

In their limited lives, they cannot even be sure whether saints really exist.

But now, they witnessed with their own eyes the birth of a saint, witnessed a holy spirit shedding its mortal body in flames to serve the Lord of mankind forever.

For a moment, the morale of the nuns reached its peak. They also wanted this supreme glory. The Emperor of God was watching them. As long as they could gain His favor, what was there to fear even if their bodies were broken into pieces and their flesh was reduced to mud?

Adeline also noticed the supernatural changes that had taken place in herself at this time. She clearly felt that there was a real fire surging in her heart.

Golden light flowed through her blood, making her eyes radiate golden light, but her pupils were still an extremely deep black. The golden light and the black pupils were clearly distinguished. Her eyes were like a pair of coronas burning with rings of flames.

Golden flames also ignited on her body, rolling and gushing.

The silver-white short hair lost its mortal darkness and became crystal clear, as if it was forged from flowing silver. A big demon tried to get behind the elder sister and launch a fatal attack on her, interrupting the ritual that annoyed the demon.

But Adeline just gently swung the sword in her hand and easily killed the demon.

It was as if she had killed not a powerful demon, but a harmless lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

Adeline felt extremely powerful, and she rejoiced in this power. With this power, she would be able to better serve the ideals of the Emperor and the Warmaster.

The nuns expressed their respect for her. Nothing could be more worthy of their respect than the devout faith of the elder sister.

"Congratulations, sister."

The nuns came close to her and blessed her transformation.

Adeline swung her sword and killed the enemies in front of her one by one, and responded, "Everything is the will of the Emperor, and I am just a servant. I will fulfill my mission, assist the Warmaster, and fight for the common ideals of mankind until he summons me back to the Golden Throne, and I will fight until my death."

"A Holy Spirit who faithfully serves the God-Emperor has descended upon us," the nuns exclaimed.

"All is the Emperor's will."

The newly ordained saint charged into the enemy camp, with the nuns accompanying her.

Dukel, who was still in a fierce battle, was also attracted by the strange vision on the nun's side.

He was not surprised by this scene, as he knew more than the nun did.

In Dukel's mind, living saints are similar to gods and demons. The essence of great existence exists in their bodies. In a sense, they are the incarnations of gods walking in the mortal world.

But the Emperor is still slightly different from the gods. Today's Emperor has severed himself from his divine side. The man who is about to become a god has given up the throne in front of him and chosen to return to the people.

The divine side that he abandoned was picked up by Duke and made into the ultimate weapon of the virtual world - the perfect truth.

This weapon is still destroying everything in the subspace day and night. It is also this weapon that the state religion and the nuns believe in devoutly.

Compared to the emperor who still had some humanity, Yuanjing Truth, who was created entirely by divinity, is more like a god in a sense.

He does not have any human emotions, and more importantly, the meaning of His existence is to serve humanity.

In Duke's mind, only a god who is willing to be a tool for humans is a good god.

God should not be above man, but below man.

Only gods who are valuable to mankind are worthy of being worshipped by hundreds of millions of believers and enjoying an inexhaustible source of faith.

The pure faith of this nun on the battlefield was recognized by the Yuanjing Truth, so it was natural for her to be directly promoted to a living saint.

The Emperor in the past might have favored a certain individual due to human emotions, but now the perfect truth will only respond to His believers like a rigorous logical process and serve humanity forever.

In such a mechanism, it can be foreseen that more and more saints will emerge in the future and become a force that cannot be ignored in the empire.

Mass production of saints was one of the important purposes of Duker's creation of the Yuanjing Truth.

Only the king of men is worthy of sitting on the throne above all others. Man-made gods will only become tools to assist humans.

On the battlefield, Doom the Slayer and his battle-brothers always stay by the side of their primarch.

Doom looked vigilantly at every enemy who tried to attack the Primarch. In his opinion, every enemy could pose a threat to the Primarch, and as the Primarch's son, he had to eliminate these dangers.

Accompanied by fierce fighting, they followed Dukel and used his powerful strength to break through the lines of the Chaos forces.

At this time, Dukel also held the sword in his hand and faced the so-called mocker of fate.

Zanrak, the mocker of fate, is extremely tall, with a thick and powerful crocodile-like tail dragging behind him.

A pair of large irregular horns were distorted on the swollen skull.

Dukel’s strength forced him to go all out.

Otherwise, he would probably be ruthlessly slaughtered by the Primarch.

"It is time to reveal your fate, you idiot from Crystal Palace."

Dukel laughed at the other party's arrogance. If he didn't chop him into eight pieces today, he would be embarrassed to continue to be the empire's war commander.

Dukel felt that he was the embodiment of cosmic courage because he dared to speak so arrogantly in front of him.

"Primarch, your arrogance will lead you to a tragic fate."

replied the mocker of fate.

But Duke didn't want to talk to him anymore.

He pressed the button on the power hilt, activating the sword's force field. The scarlet light followed the lines on the sword and wrapped around the blade.

Then golden flames ignited on the sword, and powerful energy waves burst out.

The Fate Mocker was angry at being ignored.

In his eyes, the so-called Primarch was just a young junior who was so impolite.

His birth was extraordinary. He was a powerful entity in the Warp long before the Lord of Fate was born.

Over the endless years, he deduced that a powerful master would sit on the throne of his domain. The Mocker of Fate was not interested in the throne, but if following the other party could allow him to see more of his destiny, he did not care whether or not to become the other party's slave.

An ancient being like him is now laughed at by young humans.

Even though the other party possessed the power of a demigod, it still made him angry.

But when the two sides actually fought, he was horrified to find that his insignificant anger was not enough to bridge the gap between them.

Even in the subspace, he also possessed the power of a sub-god, but he was still unable to compete with the opponent.

A beam of malicious blue flame burst out from his scepter, but was easily blocked by Dukel.

The Primarch took advantage of this opportunity to quickly approach the opponent and used the sword in his hand to chop directly at the head of the mocker of fate.

Zanrak could only swing his sword to barely parry. The huge force transmitted from the sword caused cracks to appear on his arms.

The sound of swords clashing against each other resounded throughout the battlefield, like the sound of death ringing out on the battlefield.

(End of this chapter)