Warhammer 40k: Melee Warriors

More than 500 elite Space Marines, whose combined fighting time was even longer than the existence of a young civilization, were now reduced to two in just ten minutes under Abaddon's leadership.

At this moment, the voice describing Abaddon's inner thoughts rang out again.

“I was tricked by Peturabo! He led me to commit such a terrible mistake! And I can’t even blame him, because this is what I’ve been begging him for! That damned bastard, that butcher who wasted my brothers’ blood, he must pay the price!”

The scene shifts, and Abaddon disappears from the battlefield. He is teleported away by the Dark Mechanicus's equipment. A puppet-like tech priest approaches, his head twisting eight times as he leans close to Abaddon's face and lets out a soft "hiss."

“Eh? He cried? You really cried? Lord Peturabo, as you expected, he really cried.”

The technical priest's voice carried a hint of schadenfreude, and behind him stood Peturabo, barely able to suppress his laughter...

No! This is a lie! This is a distortion of history!

Abaddon was roaring inside as he watched the movie. He did cry, but it was because he was grieving for his lost brother!

Now this guy playing me is embellishing the truth, making the tech priest say these strange things. Isn't this clearly trying to link my tears to my cowardly emotions?

“Lies! This is a lie!” Abaddon roared, his angry gaze sweeping over his silent confidants. Everywhere he looked, heads hung low, with only his closest subordinates daring to meet his eyes.

Kayan! You really are on my side; you haven't let me down!

Abaddon thought with delight that he found Kayan more and more pleasing to the eye. Kayan simply shook his head at Abaddon, telling him that there was no point in explaining anything now. Once the Masked Dancer revealed this history to the public, the truth would no longer matter. What mattered most was that the image of the Joker had been imprinted in the minds of his subordinates, and this could become a bomb in the Split Legion.

In Kayan's view, the person who made this videotape was quite clever, deeply understanding the secrets of the art of deception and trickery: weaving together nine parts truth and one part lie to make it difficult for people to distinguish between them.

After being reminded, Abaddon looked at the people with their heads down, his eyes flashing with murderous intent. No one here should leave this room alive; only the dead can completely keep the secret.

The masked dancer who released the video and recruited others also deserves to die! And the person who made the videotape deserves to be torn to pieces!

The recording continued, and under Abaddon's glare, no one dared to look up; they simply kept their heads down and listened to the recording.

“Perturabo, how could you be such a treacherous Primarch? You saw it was a trap, so why did you let my brothers and me go to our deaths?” Abaddon adopted a posture of seeking revenge, but Perturabo only replied with contempt.

"Company Commander, what do you want?"

Abaddon remained silent, not daring to utter a sound or make a move, just as his trusted confidants dared not raise their heads under Abaddon's glare.

Then, the words that everyone didn't understand and that had been repeated many times rang out once again.

Peturabo asked Abaddon, "Abaddon, why is your head so pointy?"

"Enough!" Abaddon roared, unable to bear it any longer, and drew his magic sword to slash at the masked dancer.

The Slaanesh demon laughed gleefully twice, then transformed from a mirror into a thin rope that flew through the air, dodging Abaddon's attacks.

"Hehe, you're getting anxious? You're really getting anxious, huh? I'm really enjoying this vulnerable look on your face. I'm going to record everything about you right now and make millions of copies so that my lord can enjoy it too!"

"Shut up! You damned demon!" Abaddon swung his demon sword, the longsword capable of slicing through anything, its humming sound releasing its own laughter.

Chapter 586: You'd better pretend nothing happened.

"Abaddon, your head is pointy, hehe!"

The masked dancer dodged and provoked Abaddon's sanity, until finally he disappeared in a flash of strange light, leaving only the echo of his mockery of Abaddon.

Why! Why won't you help me!

Abaddon stared intently at the surface of the demon sword, which was teeming with countless dead souls, questioning why this demonic weapon, capable of killing emperors and destroying the future of humanity, did not help him kill the annoying masked dancer.

The Demon Sword didn't even bother to answer Abaddon; it simply concealed its light and slowly savored the immense pleasure that Abaddon's humiliation brought it.

Huff... Huff...

Abaddon hung his head and panted, like a furious beast. His dark history had not only been revealed, but also covered with a damn lie. How would his subordinates view themselves if they saw this video?

Before Abaddon could even turn his head, Kayan, the quickest-witted member of the Legion, immediately said, "Those demons really went to great lengths to weave a fake joke, even daring to imitate the face of the Iron Lord."

Kayan's words undoubtedly reaffirmed the nature of the video recording, and the other high-ranking members of the Black Legion understood what was going on, all echoing Kayan's statement and pledging their loyalty to Abaddon.

"What a despicable tactic! Even the Midnight Lord wouldn't do such a thing."

"Although we despise those plague-ridden Death Guards, at least their spirits are pure, while these demons have no honor whatsoever."

"The demons' despicable behavior undoubtedly proves their untrustworthy nature. The Black Legion's mission is not only to destroy the corrupt empire and expose the false emperor's lies, but also to purge these damned demons!"

As everyone started talking at once, Abaddon's icy expression softened a little. When he turned around, his eyes immediately fell on Thalemanon, the son of the Emperor, even though his voice hadn't been heard before.

"And what about you, Terremanon? What do you think?"

Abaddon wasn't just asking Terremanon, but also how the morally corrupt son of the emperor would view the video.

Terremanon was jolted awake from his contemplation of abstract art. He immediately realized that Abaddon was letting him choose his own destiny, and if he didn't say what Abaddon wanted, the Twelfth Black Crusade would have a new mission added to it.

That is to eliminate all the emperor's sons...

Terremanon was loyal to Abaddon, and he despised his own legion, just like every imperial son who abandons his honor, but that did not guarantee that Abaddon would not vent his anger on him.

So Terremanon assured Abaddon, bowing deeply, “Great Warmaster, the Son of the Emperor will not condone such a vile joke. You can trust my work. I will lead the wizards to block the Son of the Emperor’s sense of humor, so that they will feel nauseous at the sight of even a glimpse of this video, and may even wither and die upon recalling it.”

"You'd better be able to do that..."

Terremanon dared not linger there any longer. He bowed and fled from Abaddon’s room as if his life depended on it, to fulfill his promise.

Abaddon surveyed his silent subordinates. Deep down, he wanted to eliminate them all, but he knew he couldn't do so unless he wanted the Black Legion to become even worse than the Orcish army.

The people here are all elites he has handpicked from his dozens of expeditions, and Abaddon could not possibly find replacements for them in a short time.

So Abaddon summoned his most trusted confidant, Cayan, and had this thousand-word wizard inscribe a curse on the souls of everyone.

“If any of you speak of what happened today, prepare to be trapped in the deepest hell.”

Having intimidated his subordinates, Abaddon turned to his Armaments Master, Seraxia, and said, "Have your mechanical slaves send reports to get all the nearby warbands to join us."

"Are you heading to the Tarantis system?" Seraxia asked Abaddon about his destination, speaking slowly with a gloomy face.

“That’s right, we’re going to crush the Gothic fleet there and make that damned clown pay the price.”

"Do you know the identity of the person impersonating you?"

"This is none of your business."

Serakcia shut his mouth and moved his scorpion-like chassis to the control room to work.

With the departure of the Black Legion's high command, the Chaos Fleet, which had plunged the Gothic Sector into a nightmare, began a large-scale mobilization, and every warband received a death order that could not be refused.

Abaddon ordered them to put down their work, whether they were engaged in a difficult siege or enjoying the fruits of victory, and to rejoin Abaddon's Black Legion as quickly as possible. Anyone who dared to disobey Abaddon's orders would be personally led by him to eliminate those fools who disrespected his authority after the war.

Only Kayan remained in the room with Abaddon, who was gradually calming down. Then, the War Marshal explained to Kayan with some pain.

"It was indeed a terrible attack. I almost wiped out one of the Sons of Horus's most elite troops in one battle... When I was teleported back, I did shed tears, but not from the gunfire. I was filled with regret for not being able to die alongside my brothers..."

“I understand how you feel. When Prospero was burned to death by those wolves, I also thought about dying with my brother and my world, but I still have a sister to take care of.”

Kayan placed his hand on Abaddon's shoulder, his rational voice a rare sound in the corrupt and chaotic Black Legion, like a gentle breeze soothing Abaddon's tangled heart.

“Sigh…” Abaddon sighed, then spoke of his grievances to Cayan, “There have been too many accidents in the Gothic Sector. Even if psionic prophecies aren’t that accurate, there shouldn’t be so many! The things those wizards were talking about are stories from another world, not what we are experiencing now.”

Kayan listened quietly, knowing that the warlord needed to vent his emotions, otherwise it would affect his judgment of the war.

"And do you know when all these changes started? It was when our Planet Killer was destroyed! My agents have found out that the one who destroyed the Planet Killer was a traveling merchant named Otto, an unremarkable figure before the Gothic War, who even nearly died in a purge! Then this damned bastard seems to have received some kind of revelation, influencing our operations at every stage."

"So you believe that this video is also closely related to Otto?"

“Not just Otto, but also those demons.” Abaddon lowered his voice. Dozens of robed servants brought in the looted religious artifacts and placed them in a corner of the room. These artifacts would ensure that Abaddon’s next words would not be heard by the demons.

Chapter 587: The Deeply Hidden Slaanesh Puppet

But this shielding is only temporary. Abaddon's flagship, the Soul of Vengeance, is a massive warp cavern, where every breath of air can drive mortals mad.

Kayan roughly calculated that these sacred artifacts of the Church, soaked in the blood of pure nuns, would allow Abaddon to speak for about five minutes without any reservations.

Having confirmed that the state relic had taken effect, Abaddon continued to Kayan, "The masked dancer's behavior just now was strange. The way he looked at the person in the video was like he was looking at an old acquaintance, not a disposable item that was used once and then discarded."

Moreover, the team I sent to inspect the wreckage of the Planet Killer gave me a lot of interesting information. Before the Planet Killer was destroyed, numerous corridors bore traces of the Masked Dancer and his troupe members, indicating that the attackers of the Planet Killer were not only Orcs and the Empire, but also these damned demons.

Kayan listened to Abaddon's analysis and nodded in agreement. In his observation, the Masked Dancer, this powerful Slaanesh demon, was indeed somewhat strange.

For example, he would often lose his focus during intense battles, staring blankly at the bombardment of explosives, lasers, and artillery shells. After a long time, he would suddenly burst into manic laughter for days and nights without stopping, leaving both his comrades and the enemy completely bewildered.

Not only that, the masked dancer also tried to promote his disgusting and bizarre stuff within the Black Legion.

For example, regarding his alterations to armor, he secretly removed many armor plates used by warriors to cover their buttocks, admired the outline of their hips, and created a ranking chart that circulated among the Black Legion.

Each soldier resisted the humiliation inflicted upon them by the masked dancers, until the dancers became so skilled at removing armor plates that no one would notice that the armor plates covering their buttocks had been gone for several days without being reminded.

Kayan didn't know who inspired the masked dancers to stare at the Space Marines' butts, but his behavior was already showing signs of getting out of control, just like how the Slaanesh believers' enjoyment of pleasure gradually escalates and eventually evolves into unimaginable atrocities.

Some Slaanesh factions even imitated the World Eaters' skull-hunting activities and created their own butt-hunting activities. They stared at every Space Marine's buttocks like annoying flies, making sure that buttocks were worthy of being hung on their trophy wall for their admiration.

The believers in Khwarazm and the believers in Slaanesh were locked in a fierce battle, with the berserkers claiming that the Slaanesh were like a raging flood, defiling their glorious skull-hunting operation.

The addicts weren't just passively beaten; they received tremendous support from the Slaanesh demons, provided they were willing to hand over their collections of Space Marine buttocks.

If it were just people who believed in Slaanesh doing this, that would be one thing. These addicts are already mentally unstable, and Kayan and Abaddon don't expect them to have a sense of honor.

A few days ago, a warband clashed with the Black Legion because they were on drugs and thought they were in the Great Crusade, believing that the Black Legion's massacre of the local people was wrong.

Once the effects of the drugs wore off, they laughed loudly a few times, then turned around and began slaughtering the people they had been trying to protect.

The only thing they could do was to separate the Slaanesh and Khorne factions, keeping them as far apart as possible, rather than having them appear on the same battlefield.

Worse still, the thoughts and actions of other Chaos Space Marines have also undergone worrying changes.

Although Kayan is reluctant to admit it, when you immerse yourself in chaos, your mind and worldview are likely to be abnormal. The power of the gods will not only transform your body, but also distort everything you see.

Kayan had witnessed the reactions of many self-proclaimed glorious Chaos Space Marines after being attacked with weapons made from the ashes of the Soulless. Their spirits collapsed instantly, and they screamed like children, saying that they had become inhuman monsters.

However, this was only a moment of clarity. The next second, their wavering minds were completely controlled by the power of chaos, turning them into bloodthirsty beasts who offered blood and slaughter in the name of the gods.

When the Masked Dancer was active, his actions, carrying a chaotic wind, twisted the minds of many Black Legion warriors. They believed the Masked Dancer's nonsense, actually thinking that removing the armor plates from their buttocks would make them faster, without considering that their buttocks had been painted on their skin by the Slaanesh demons and had become their topic of conversation.

As soon as these warriors die, before the apothecaries even have a chance to recover their gene seeds, the Slaanesh demons will cut off their buttocks first.

As far as Kayan knows, this foolish idea is also spreading among berserkers who believe in Khorne, because those who only talk about cutting and killing consider removing the armor plates from the buttocks to be a symbol of always facing the enemy head-on.

As a fierce battle begins, these berserkers charge ahead, reveling in the pleasure of their bodies covered in blood. Right behind them, the masked dancer and his servants stare with lewd eyes at the berserkers' bouncing, blood-soaked buttocks.

If you say that the Masked Dancer's actions had no positive impact whatsoever, Kayan has to say a few words of fairness. When they attacked a heavily guarded Space Marine monastery, it was the Masked Dancer who volunteered to draw many pictures that humiliated Space Marine chapter commanders, luring the angry chapter commanders into the traps set by the Masked Dancer.

These paintings by the masked dancers even became a more insidious form of corruption. When a Space Marine company was stationed on a world, a painting depicting Space Marines posing provocatively would put the entire world on edge. Anyone who possessed or saw the painting would be executed, and often the executions would extend to an entire city block.

In short, regardless of the circumstances, images that tarnished the image of the Space Marines circulated wildly among the Slaanesh daemons. Every Chaos Space Marine who still retained some semblance of rationality refused to fight alongside these daemons, and even went all out to attack the moment a Slaanesh daemon appeared in their sight.

All of this makes maintaining order within the Chaos Legion increasingly difficult...