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Each punch contained the fury of millennia and the lamentations of countless victims of the empire.

Guilliman's power is now vastly different. With the power of Yang Yi's faith and the Empire's multiple enhancements, he is no longer the Primarch who relied solely on tactics and intellect ten thousand years ago.

He is now the perfect combination of strength and wisdom!

The "flaws" I just made were just part of a performance for this "good brother".

Now, it's time for liquidation!

The excruciating pain jolted Magnus back to reality from his humiliation. He couldn't die here! Absolutely not!

Then he decisively and violently detonated most of the remaining spiritual energy in his body!

The violent energy exploded like a bomb, temporarily forcing Guilliman to retreat.

Taking advantage of this brief opening, Magnus mustered his last bit of strength and forcibly tore open a rift leading to the warp.

He wants to escape! To escape back into the embrace of chaos!

Before stepping into the portal, he endured the excruciating pain and fear, turned around, and hurled a venomous curse at Guilliman.

“My brother! Just wait!” His voice was hoarse and distorted.

"The human empire is about to perish! Your good days are numbered!"

"Twelve true gods from different worlds are hunting down that false god and your new god in the warp!"

"Even if you reclaim your lost territory now, so what? They won't last long! Once they're defeated, you'll be fish on a chopping block, at my mercy!"

He glared fiercely at Guilliman, then glanced at Ge Xiaolun not far away.

"When the time comes, you, and that guy next to me with the disgusting ability... I will personally come back and torture you properly and slowly!"

With that, Magnus, carrying his last hope, stepped into the warp portal.

However...

One of Yang Yi's clones, who was "farming monsters" in the subspace, happened to sense this familiar, weak spatial fluctuation.

"Hmm? Found an interesting little thing, the one-eyed sunburned Oglin Magnus?"

A wicked smile crept onto Yang Yi's clone's lips.

With a slight twitch of his fingers, an imperceptible force quietly flowed into the portal.

Magnus plunged into the portal, eager to return to his familiar chaotic palace built of sorcery and bones.

However, the sight before him froze his soul instantly.

The pungent smell of blood and the overwhelming aura of defeat hit me.

This is not his palace!

This is... a slaughterhouse for the gods?!

The shattered divine power drifted in the void like dust.

Several bizarrely shaped female evil gods, exuding an aura both familiar and strange, lay on the ground?!

He could vaguely recognize the aura of Tzeentch in one of them, but what was with that shameful posture?!

Meanwhile, the human emperor was riding on a huge lump of flesh that had also been twisted into a female form, and was punching it hard!

He could even sense the faint, almost extinguished origins of the evil gods from other parallel universes, being casually manipulated and played with like trash by that new god of the empire!

In an instant, a flood of questions filled his mind: Why had Khorne, Tzeentch, and Nurgle of this universe all turned into such a wretched sight?!

Why is the evil god from another world so broken?

Magnus shuddered violently, cold sweat instantly soaking through his magnificent robes.

His psychic vision, which he was so proud of, revealed a truth that terrified him!

how so? !

Twelve evil gods! Powerful beings from different times and dimensions!

How could a sure-win situation turn out like this?!

A fear he hadn't felt in tens of thousands of years gripped his heart.

He couldn't help but raise his hand to wipe away non-existent beads of sweat from his forehead.

Just then, in the center of the battlefield, Yang Yi and the Emperor, who were enjoying the thrill of beating up the evil god, simultaneously sensed this uninvited guest.

Two pairs of eyes, almost tangible, instantly locked onto Magnus.

When that gaze swept over him, Magnus's legs went weak and he almost knelt down.

He was trembling uncontrollably, and stammered, his voice trembling with tears, "I...I was just passing by and dropping by. Maybe...maybe I came at the wrong time. You guys continue, don't worry about me!"

After saying that, he turned around and tried to slip away again through the portal that wasn't completely closed.

However, he had only taken one step.

A hand appeared out of thin air, grabbing his unbroken horn like an iron clamp, and easily lifting his massive body.

At that moment, Magnus desperately wished that Guilliman had broken off his other horn as well.

Then Yang Yi's face, with a mocking smile, appeared before him.

"Don't rush off, my filial son." Yang Yi's voice was light, yet carried an undeniable authority.

"You came just in time."

Before he could finish speaking, Magnus felt like he had been thrown away by Yang Yi like a piece of trash!

The target was the Emperor, who had just stopped and was now watching everything with icy eyes!

"Your good son is now in your hands." Yang Yi's voice came.

At the same time, he casually flicked out several Endless Ingots, firmly pressing the female Nurgle, who was already limp as mud and constantly emitting weak groans, to the spot.

"I'll help you suppress this lump under you first."

Magnus tumbled uncontrollably in the air, summoning the last of his strength to try and change his trajectory, only to find it all in vain.

He was completely unable to resist that force!

Until a muffled "bang"!

His back slammed hard against an incredibly hard object that emitted a golden light before he came to a stop.

The impact did not bring him any relief; instead, it made him shake even more violently.

Magnus turned around with difficulty and trembling.

They met a pair of golden eyes burning with millennia of rage, disappointment, and a complex emotion that was hard to describe.

The emperor was looking down at him, and Magnus could see that his face was as black as the bottom of a pot.

Chapter 139 The sword demon slashes Angron

The emperor simply stared at Magnus silently, without uttering a word.

Silence, like a tangible pressure, enveloped Magnus.

He felt a chill run down his spine from looking into those golden eyes.

Cold sweat, or something similar, seeped from beneath his scarlet skin, and he didn't even dare to meet that gaze.

A strong desire rose within him; he wished the emperor would act immediately and obliterate him with lightning or a sharp blade.

It was not the silent gaze and the wordless judgment that tormented him more than any torture.

Ten thousand years have not washed away the guilt deep in his soul.

There is an old legend that his betrayal was not entirely due to the temptation of power, but also partly because he dared not face the trouble he had caused and dared not confront his former father.

Yang Yi watched this scene of fatherly love and filial piety with great interest, and he even took out a uniquely shaped camera.

"Click," the faint sound of the shutter was particularly jarring in the deathly silent subspace.

A flash of light captured Magnus's expression—a mixture of fear, shame, and despair—along with the Emperor's silence.

On the other side, in the distant material universe.

On a planet being reclaimed by an empire, war rages on.

Aatrox, residing within Sion's massive battle form, leads the Shurima Ascended Chapter and the Darkin Squad, cutting through enemy lines like a blazing sword.

Suddenly! The space in front of us twisted and tore apart!

Then a massive subspace vortex appeared out of nowhere, emanating a nauseating aura of chaos.

Countless hideous demons, carrying the stench of brass and blood, swarmed out of the vortex.

Following closely behind were a large number of World Devourer warriors clad in red and white armor, who had already ascended to demonic status, their eyes burning with an endless thirst for slaughter.

Finally, it was accompanied by a loud, deafening roar.

A colossal figure plummeted from the depths of the vortex like a meteorite, crashing heavily onto the ground in front of Aatrox!

The impact sent up clouds of dust and debris.

Amidst the smoke and dust, a pair of enormous demonic wings covered in black scales suddenly unfurled, blotting out the sky.

That was a huge demon.

A terrifying entity enveloped in blood and brass.

His scarlet skin was covered with twisted runes and hideous scars, his thick limbs were bulging with unnatural muscles, and numerous tubes were deeply embedded in his skull and spine.

That was the infamous Butcher's Nail, now integrated with his demonic nature, radiating a frenzied psionic energy.

He had no helmet, only a face twisted grotesque with boundless rage, baring fangs, and eyes filled with pure, blood-red battle intent.

In his hands, he gripped two enormous chainsaw axes, their blades stained with congealed blood and bits of flesh, while the engines emitted a deep, bloodthirsty roar.

The newcomer was none other than the Ascended Primarch, Angron!

The moment Angron raised his blood-red eyes.

When Aatrox sensed that pure, extreme fighting spirit and killing intent.

Two terrifying beings simultaneously locked onto each other.