Warhammer 40k: Melee Warriors

Chapter 620: Turn them into cream puffs!

Markus kept punching Abaddon, but Abaddon's head wouldn't explode. Although it looked terrible, such injuries were just superficial wounds that Space Marines could heal in no time.

Even after getting a critical hit, your head is still so hard... Forget about being chosen by the gods, you might as well just call yourself the most beloved child of a benevolent father. Do you know how tough you are that even the Mortalians are jealous? If we put you in a cannon barrel and fired you, even the adamantite keel of a battleship would be smashed through by your head!

Koji was feeling unhappy. He caught a glimpse of the wolf brothers charging forward and gave up the idea of ​​continuing to beat Abaddon. His hands were in excruciating pain, and the bones in his hands were about to crack.

Just as Koken was about to kick Abaddon in the chest to send him flying and distract the Wolf Brothers, his eyes suddenly caught sight of Abaddon's red, spiky ponytail.

Hey... I can't take your head off, so I might as well keep this as a souvenir.

Your father Horus was completely bald, so shouldn't you also remain bald?

Once he had an idea, Koji immediately took action. Taking advantage of Abaddon's unconscious state, he grabbed Abaddon's topknot with one hand and pulled him forward with the other while holding his breastplate.

The hair was extremely tightly connected to the top of the head. Komi pulled hard with Marcus's body but couldn't break a single hair. It only made Abaddon howl in pain.

"You bastard..." Abaddon cursed Komi, his eyes burning with vengeful hatred, but his ferocious appearance was marred by the bloodstains on his face, making him look somewhat comical.

As the Wolf Brothers drew closer, Markus's time dwindled. In his desperation, he even stepped on Abaddon's chest, a move that resembled an old farmer arguing with a deeply rooted radish.

Komi felt that he had released all the power that Marcus possessed, and his tireless body began to feel the soreness of muscle strain.

Fortunately, perseverance pays off, and Komi finally heard the sound of it breaking...

Unfortunately, the sound of breaking didn't come from the hair, but from Abaddon's scalp tearing off his skull bit by bit.

"Ahhhh!"

Abaddon's howls of pain grew louder. His body, which had been stunned by dozens of punches from Koji, suddenly recovered. He reached out with both hands to the left and right, as if he wanted to hug Marcus to death.

But Komi wouldn't let him have his way. He suddenly exerted force with both feet, using Abaddon's spiky braid as the center, and flew forward in a circle, passing over the trophy shelf full of skulls that Abaddon had stuck in, and came behind him.

This completely shattered Abaddon's scalp. The last thread of connection between flesh and skull was severed in the brutal tearing. Markus was caught off guard and flew out, his hand tightly gripping Abaddon's topknot.

The once great, arrogant, and ferocious warlord now looked even more miserable, with blood flowing from the wound on his head covering his face, making Abaddon look like a peeled tomato.

He stood there blankly, completely ignoring the fact that the flying Marcus had crashed into the charging wolf brothers, and was only immersed in the immense humiliation of losing his spiky hair.

"Hahahahaha!"

Loud, exhilarating laughter echoed through the Warp. Khorne, grinning from ear to ear at Abaddon's wretched appearance, even forgot for a moment to continue hacking at Slaanesh's slippery body.

Slaanesh could not ignore this amusing situation either. Of his six eyes, only one remained to observe Khorne, while the rest were focused on the bloody, scalp-covered braid in Markus's hand.

“What an interesting thing… the braid of a Chaos Warlord? I can use this thing as a whip or a small broom to clean the bed!” Slaanesh’s eyes gleamed with longing. He preferred the unique value of that spiky braid to Markarth himself.

But this idea only makes Khorne even more unhappy.

The warrior I admire stole the glory of the Warmaster. How dare you take it? That thing has only two outcomes: either it becomes proof of Marcus's glory, or it becomes a gift he offers to me.

The sudden surge of anger and the even more ferocious slashing made Slaanesh realize Khorne's jealous thoughts. He chuckled coldly, determined to take the spiky hair away no matter what.

He did not intend to do it himself, nor did he intend to let the masked dancers he had exiled do the work. He set his sights on those closest to Markus and conquered the demon's wolf brothers with his own will.

Slaanesh's gaze turned to reality, and a terrifying power capable of plunging the entire world into a hedonistic apocalypse passed through the hull of the Exterminator and surged into the bodies of the Wolf Brothers.

The overwhelming power left them no room to refuse. Suddenly, they realized that their conquest of the Chaos Demons was nothing to boast about. The fact that they could remain conscious as half-human, half-demon beings was simply because the gods were too lazy to care about them.

When the gods want to use these pawns who have offered their souls, they must utterly grovel at the throne of the gods and use everything they have left to please them.

Even the strongest beings, if their souls show the slightest flaw, will be transformed into mindless puffs by the power of the gods.

The wolf brothers were suffering from an excess of chaotic energy. They howled and roared, and their bodies underwent even more violent mutations. Even the so-called Chaos Eggs were cuter and fresher than they were now.

The faces of demons and humans were abstractly stretched to the size of their entire bodies, then wrapped around them. Their hands and feet were intertwined like tree roots, becoming their weapons in the attack on Markus. Extremely thick blood vessels, tinged with dark red and deep purple, covered their greasy, off-white bodies, making onlookers feel nauseous.

Abaddon, somewhat dazed, also awoke from the distorted state of the Wolf Brothers. He turned around abruptly and discovered that his personal guard had become an irredeemable creation of chaos. Even though they had successfully killed the damned Markarth, this heavy loss could not appease Abaddon's furious soul.

"No..." Abaddon roared, his voice filled with a great deal of emotion.

The panic of the malfunctioning magic sword... the shame of being wounded... the hatred of having the War General symbol slain... the heartache of the annihilation of the entire Royal Guard...

But even these mixed emotions couldn't compare to Abaddon's deep-seated fear of the Dark Gods' brutal and forceful transformation of his minions into unspeakable beings.

Abaddon knew perfectly well that he was only temporarily borrowing the power of the gods, not becoming their puppet at their beck and call. He wanted to take revenge on the human empire and make the gods pay the price for their arrogance.

"Sage! We've arrived!"

A passionate roar rang out, and Abaddon turned to look in the direction of the sound. He saw that Azrael, who had just emerged from a bloody battle, had arrived with the Dark Angels' Terminator Force. They were fully armed and had brought out the most precious artifacts of the chapter, displaying a resolute determination to kill Abaddon, the enemy of the Empire, right there.

Chapter 621: Tzeentch: How can you blame me when I wasn't even there?

Abaddon's eyes darkened. He gritted his teeth and cursed Azrael for really picking his timing. If he had encountered Azrael at the very beginning of his journey aboard the Punisher, he would have used his magic sword to cut off the little lion's head.

The thought of the Demon Sword made Abaddon's heart ache even more.

His gaze shifted downwards. The magic sword remained sturdy and straight, but the comical sound of it striking Markarth had left a deep psychological scar on him. He feared that if he fought Azrael with the magic sword, he would relive that humiliating situation once again.

The weapons were ineffective, and he was completely isolated and helpless...

Despite being in dire straits, Abaddon knew he still had a fighting chance, but as the saying goes, even a tiger can't withstand a pack of wolves. Even if he could defeat Azrael and kill several Dark Angel Terminators, it wouldn't change the outcome of his defeat.

Now, the only thing left to achieve victory is Blackrock Fortress. Once the fortress successfully activates its weapons, everything will be alright.

Having thought all this through, Abaddon chose to temporarily avoid a direct confrontation. He sheathed his now much quieter demon sword, raised his Claw of Horus, and fired at Azrael with the ammunition blessed by the gods within. At the same time, he called for Kayan, asking his most trusted brother to rescue him.

As for those wolf brothers... we can only avenge them in the future...

Although Azrael hadn't fought Abaddon many times, he could see that Abaddon was backing down. He took a deep breath, grabbed the master-grade power sword named 'Secret', and charged forward. Even when Abaddon opened fire, he didn't flinch.

Explosive shells pounded against Azrael's armor, even wounding his body and causing the poison to flow through his veins. But as a chapter master, Azrael possessed an extremely firm will and a fanatical fighting spirit. He endured the pain of the poison with his hatred for Abaddon and raised his power sword to slash fiercely at Abaddon.

"You lackey of Chaos, you must die here today!"

"Heh..." Abaddon sneered. Azrael was strong, but he was still a step behind him. "If I hadn't been injured, you wouldn't have had the chance to be so arrogant in front of me!"

Upon hearing Abaddon's words, Azrael began to wonder who could have inflicted such a wound on the Black Legion's Warmaster, even causing his signature tuft of hair to disappear.

It must be the power of the Sage Otto!

Azrael was determined, completely ignoring Markarth, who was struggling among the mutated monsters beside him.

Abaddon swung his claws and grabbed Azrael's longsword. He didn't take a single step back, simply stopping Azrael's charge. Then, he suddenly exerted force with his arm, and the terrifying power startled Azrael.

Azrael was thrown off by Abaddon, his feet sliding several meters before he regained his balance. If Abaddon had been willing to continue the pursuit, he would have been able to tear a piece of flesh from Azrael.

Is the difference in strength between him and me really that great?

Having fallen behind in the first round, Azrael felt a bitter taste in his mouth. He had thought that even if he couldn't defeat Abaddon, he could at least put up a 40/60 fight. Now it seemed he had completely overestimated his strength...

If Otto were standing beside Azrael right now and heard his thoughts, he would definitely have offered a few words of comfort.

It is important to know that Azrael would later be defeated by another butcher under Khorne, Karn. Although he could easily defeat those unknown Chaos Lords, he faced many dangers in his battle with Karn, and could only dodge Karn's powerful slashes and look for opportunities to counterattack.

Azrael's successful counterattack also enraged Kahn, who, in his fury, shattered Azrael's armor. If Kahn hadn't used too much force and smashed his axe into the floor, Azrael certainly wouldn't have had a chance to escape.

But is it really that shameful to run away from Kahn? It doesn't seem so. After all, this guy stands out with a murderous aura, and even a demon prince would break out in a cold sweat and wish he could run away as fast as he can.

Azrael was defeated by Kahn, and Kahn was defeated by Abaddon. Considering this, the fact that Azrael was only repelled rather than injured in his first encounter with Abaddon speaks volumes about his strength.

Abaddon forced Azrael back, then countered by pinning down a Dark Angel Terminator wielding a Stormshield and a Power Hammer, before delivering a fatal blow with Horus's Claw.

At that moment, lightning also intertwined behind Abaddon, forming a deep vortex. A hand suddenly reached out, grabbed Abaddon's back, and pulled him into it.

Azrael tried to stop Abaddon from leaving, but he was too late and could only watch helplessly as the vortex closed in before his eyes. The only result of this attack seemed to be that they lost a memorable Terminator veteran.

"Damn it..." Azrael was furious at his own incompetence. He thought that if he were stronger, he could have stopped Abaddon.

But Otto's shout interrupted Azrael's thoughts, "The battle isn't over yet! Don't stand there, those monsters are charging!"

Azrael immediately turned and attacked, and the remaining Terminators followed his lead, raining bullets down on the monsters that the Wolf Brothers had transformed into.

Markus, who was at the very center of these monsters, was in a very sorry state under the siege. These damned monsters gave him no chance to fight back. The spiral spears formed by their limbs were extremely fast, and the simultaneous attack of a group of monsters was simply impenetrable.

If there were a stamina bar, he would have been riddled with holes by now!

What's even more annoying is that these monsters don't seem to hurt each other. Markus finally managed to roll to the side, hoping that the monster's spear could kill his teammate so he could catch his breath, but the spear just melted into him and then stabbed out again!

Marcus's Xuan-style defensive armor plates had long been stripped away, leaving nothing behind. His gray Terminator power armor was also covered in blood and tattered. Through the cracks, one could even see his unique arm, formed from his soul.

However, there is always a way out. Khorne would not allow Slaanesh to humiliate Markarth's honor with a bunch of monstrous creatures devoid of glory. He roared and turned his gaze to the Exterminator.

Markarth...you have done very well. I will grant you great power. You shall kill Slaanesh's minions and deliver Azrael's head as well!

You shall slaughter all those who fight in this galaxy! Their blood belongs to you! Their souls belong to you! This is the greatest favor I bestow upon you!

With a thought, Khorne unleashed divine grace, but none of this power flowed into Markus's body, as if something was blocking the influx of His blessings.

Khorne didn't know why, but based on his past experience, such a bizarre event must be related to Tzeentch. Even if he had been killed by Tzeentch at the beginning, could Tzeentch really say he was innocent?

Besides this suspect, Khorne also considered Slaanesh, who was standing next to him, to be quite suspicious.

It can only be said that habitual thinking killed the god. Khorne considered many answers, but he never thought that Markus's body contained the soul of Komi, and that his soul was under the protection of the Pure White Hall.

The last time Khorne bestowed His blessing, He forcibly branded Markus's body, and Kojima did not resist. Now that He is blessing from across a space, it is naturally ineffective.

Khorne stared at Slaanesh with a gloomy look. Since he couldn't bless Markarth for some reason, he might as well bless someone else!

So Khorne set his sights on Azrael and his allies...

Chapter 622: Even if you don't offer blessings, God will!

How great is the difference between the blessings of emperors and the gifts of gods?

This was not very obvious even to Koken, after all, the Emperor's signal was bad and he only voluntarily lowered his power a handful of times. Almost no one had personally experienced the Emperor's great power, and even if they had, they would hardly be alive to tell others about it.

The Emperor is active only when the Great Rift is open. He dispatches his cursed legions to fight against Chaos across the galaxy, sends out revelations, and possesses beings to fight in his place during the most desperate moments.

Most of the time, it is the Chaos Gods who respond to the warriors' prayers. They know how to adorn their dangerous gifts and choose a moment of extreme urgency to deliver them, leaving the warriors with no choice but to accept them.

Only those who are extremely wary of the forces of the warp can ignore the voices around them and believe in their own power to turn things around in their most desperate moments, instead of placing their hopes on empty prayers.

Clearly, Azrael is not one of them now, and this cannot be blamed on him for letting his guard down regarding the warp; rather, it should be blamed on Komi for exerting too much influence on him using Otto's body.

The Terminator brothers beside him were in a similar situation. Otto's theories dealt a heavy blow to the solemn atmosphere that flowed through the Astartes and the State Church, allowing a dangerous sense of complacency to permeate their minds.

Every traditional imperialist who had met a soldier of the Savior Army thought that the soldiers of the Savior Army were somewhat relaxed in their thinking. Although they also believed that serving the Savior with their lives was the highest honor, they had rather flexible ideas about how to achieve this, and those ideas were enough to make the strict imperial political commissars shoot them again and again.

Komi used many methods to plug this loophole that could be exploited by the Dark Gods, protecting the Orcs and those who believed in the Savior from the mild invasion of warp contamination, but these methods did not have much impact on the operation of the Dark Angels.

Although Ezekiel began to work on getting his brothers to understand the voice of the Machine Soul, he started too late, and the final battle broke out too early.