Warhammer: My buddy has too many secrets!

Chapter 149 Snake Demon

In the High Heavens of the Warp, the Dark Prince bestowed upon his beloved Primarch, Forgrim, an entire planet, where endless pleasure unfolded.

On that plush bed, so soft that even a mortal's bones would soften from stepping on it, the Primarch of the future, Vograim, twisted and coiled, laughing and reveling, as if performing a dance for the revered god.

The noble Phoenix Lord from the Great Expedition era had long since become twisted and deformed. Ten thousand years ago, after ascending to demonhood, his legs disappeared without a trace, replaced by a long snake tail.

His body and face were elongated, and his chest cavity was mutated to accommodate a pair of extra arms.

Despite the grotesqueness of his body, his physique was unexpectedly perfect—a strange kind of perfection. His movements possessed a charm that would put even the Spirit Race to shame. But all of this was merely a distortion of his former handsome appearance, a distortion that even twisted the very meaning of the word "handsome"!

The serpent demon sneered. He had gone too far in his pursuit of so-called perfection. Under Slaanesh's blessing, he had distorted the human form, exceeding the limits of human sanity. While inspiring awe for its artistic beauty, this excessive indulgence in beauty also aroused strong disgust in humans.

Ten thousand years later, he became even more depraved. If Guilliman were here, he would find that his once armored and dangerously dangerous snake tail had become smooth and bloated, as if all the scales had been peeled off, revealing a body as thin as a cicada's wing and infinitely sensitive as skin.

He deliberately ripped open his abdomen and used hooks to expose his flesh and blood to provoke the enemy, and enjoyed his own pain, his face aged and his fangs exposed.

Now he has completely abandoned pretense and only indulges in wild pleasures.

He was enjoying the feast he had created, and the main course of this feast was the man in front of him, holding a flaming longsword and as resolute as a mountain.

Its name is:

Ferrus Marus.

The Primarch of the Steel Hand.

However, he was killed ten thousand years ago. He was the first Primarch to be definitively killed in the material universe. On the Eastvan 5, his head was severed by Forgrim, his former best friend, with a demon-infused sword.

What appears here now is merely a replica, cloned by the apothecary Bayer, the son of the Emperor of this world. It is obvious that the cloned Primarch lacks the most important warp essence, but its physical strength still far surpasses that of the Space Marines.

However, it was too difficult to replicate the iconic silver hand on the Primarch of the Steel Hand, Felus. Bayer could only plate the hands of this replica Felus with silver. But fortunately, the corrupted serpent demon didn't care about this anymore. As long as the appearance was similar, it was enough for him!

"Oh, my brother, do you see? The starlight of the palace on Terra has gone out. Our father is fiddling with something again, just like back then!"

"And I will shatter all his illusions, just as I did back then! Poor Robert, I spared his life before, but now that he's awakened, he's working for that false emperor again!"

"But this time I will bring him into my palace, and after I have convinced you, I will go and bring him back! In this way, we brothers will be united and enjoy endless pleasure!"

The serpent's twisted posture was nauseating, and at this moment, the cloned Ferus had awakened all his past memories in his genes when he came out of the laboratory. Upon hearing this, even the clone Ferus felt an uncontrollable rage burning in his chest.

"Shut up! You filthy serpent, twisted alien! You don't deserve to call me brother! Robert will avenge me! You trash! You've let everyone down!! And I will despise you forever and ever!"

The clone, Feralus Manus, made no attempt to hide his contempt for Forgrim before him. His sharp words made the serpent tremble, and then he let out a wicked laugh.

"No! Everyone will yield! Loyalty can be bought, families can be replaced, love can be taken away! But the true, perfect fruit, like mine now, is within reach!"

The serpent demon let out a shriek and then attacked the clone, Felus!

collapse!

A clone is still a clone. Felus could barely parry the attacks of the fallen serpent demon in front of him. The Raman's sword danced across his armor, leaving almost terrifying cuts.

Each knife wound seemed to be accompanied by the Slaanesh demon's seduction of the clone Feralus, but even so, the clone, who inherited the name Iron Hand, remained unmoved.

For the serpent demon, fighting with his own brother was a privilege that Fugrim considered a privilege.

Even with his clone brother, Forgrim enjoyed every clash of swords, and he even deliberately let the clone in front of him attack his own body.

Each slash of the fire sword that cut through his flesh propelled him toward ever greater bliss! The blade itself, burning like a furnace and releasing intense heat, was forged by the Primarch Feralus, and could be said to symbolize the brotherhood between Feralus and Feralus.

But now this sword seems to have become a performance weapon, almost like a joke.

Meanwhile, Slaanesh watched the performance with great pleasure from the highest heavens.

Slaanesh is the youngest of the four Chaos Gods, born from the psionic echoes of Eldar's indulgence and depravity.

His essence lies not in "lust" but in "evil". He is not simply about sensory enjoyment or eroticism. What is truly frightening is the extreme, uncontrolled and self-destructive nature of desire.

The desires of Slaanesh's followers are never satisfied. For ordinary people, a hearty lunch or a sudden windfall might be enough to make them happy.

But for Slaanesh devotees, the pleasure they derive from this thing will be amplified infinitely, and then gradually change...

Numbness.

The blessings of evil gods are never true gifts. After falling into the embrace of Slaanesh, happiness will only be temporary, and eternal emptiness will be the norm. As the depravity deepens, pleasure can only be felt through pain, killing, and self-destruction.

The clone Ferrus had also come to understand all of this.

Over the past ten thousand years, the brother before him had fallen far too far into depravity. When he awoke, he already knew that his genes had been cloned too much by the snake demon before him. He had died entirely at the hands of this snake demon in the past, but things were different now.

The clones of the past were merely his toys, but now the Star Torch has been extinguished on its own—meaning that Terra is making a very significant move.

Perhaps it is a plan that humanity can revive.

The clone, Felus, mustered all his strength and silently recited the Emperor's name, making a vow! Even though he was just a clone from a laboratory, not the great Primarch himself, he would still be loyal to the Emperor and to humanity.

He will stall this snake demon until the very last moment.

Driven by such willpower, he roared and slashed off Forgrim's shoulder armor, then spun around and charged into his defenses, preparing to deliver a fatal blow to his opponent's lower abdomen.

But Forgrim laughed and stepped forward, his flaming sword piercing through the serpent's body.

The extreme pain was mixed with extreme pleasure, causing all the serpent demon's fins to tremble!

A disgusting liquid oozed from his delicate, sensitive skin, which resembled that of an eel with its scales removed. Just as the clone, Ferus, was about to continue his great victory, the serpent demon effortlessly grabbed his sword blade with its two newly grown hands, while its other hand slammed into the clone's head like a cannonball.

But the clone took the blow head-on. Blood streamed from the horrific wound near his temple, but he didn't fall to the ground. Instead, he continued to swing the blade outwards. The sharp tip of the sword sliced ​​across Fogrim's abdomen!

"For the Emperor!"

The clone let out a roar, which seemed to attract some attention from the warp!

The snake demon suddenly sensed an indescribable aura of danger emanating from the clone before him! He then screamed and swung his tail, sending the clone flying!

The Ferus clone, which had been ejected, crashed onto rocks outside the building, but at that very moment a fleet suddenly arrived over the planet!

On the strike barge of this fleet, the mark of the steel hand seemed to burn!

One after another, airdrop pods began to emerge from low Earth orbit, fearlessly heading towards the vicinity of the clone, Ferus!

This is the fleet of the Steel Hand! It is the son of Feralus!

The Slaanesh demon and the assembled fallen princes did not stop them, for they themselves had come to this place only to die! And it was all a play orchestrated by the fallen serpent demon!

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