Forced to die just after becoming invincible in Warhammer?

In an instant, Angron's mind quickly sorted out the chaotic information on this matter, and a thought flashed through his mind like lightning: Maybe he would have a nephew or niece soon.

Thinking of this, Angron put down the quill in his hand, and a teasing smile appeared on his face: "What's going on with you two? After a trial turned out like this, you still come here in such an intimate manner. Don't you have any good news to announce?" He stood up, walked around the desk, and walked quickly towards the two of them, ready to check their injuries.

"Angron, this is Jonson's fault. He attacked me like an enemy and nearly tore me apart! Get your medical equipment out now, I'm almost falling apart."

Aurora grumbled and glanced at Zhuang Sen, her face full of grievance.

Zhuang Sen shook his head helplessly, held Aurora's armpits firmly with both hands, and carefully placed her on the stool. The metal gloves rubbed against Aurora's armor, making a slight sound.

After settling Aurora, Zhuang Sen took two steps back, crossed his arms, and looked straight at Angron. Although he didn't say anything, his eyes revealed an urgent desire to "help quickly."

Angron let out a small smile and turned to the silver cabinet in the corner.

He opened the cabinet door and took out a disc-shaped medical device that glowed blue. Runes swirled on its surface, and as Angron approached, a slight humming sound began to emanate.

"This is a treasure I got with great difficulty. Most people are reluctant to use it." Angron said as he pointed the medical device at Aurora. The blue light suddenly became brighter, and the fine light was like a smart silk thread, enveloping Aurora.

The blue light enveloped Aurora like a tide, and a tingling warmth came from the injured area, making her sigh softly.

Zhuang Sen stood aside, his tense expression slightly relaxed, his eyes still fixed on Aurora's injuries.

"Good man, look at this wound, Zhuangsen, you are going to kill him!" Angron looked up at Zhuangsen with a playful look on his face while operating the medical device. He could feel that the emotions between them were full of concern.

The runes on the surface of the device became brighter and brighter, and the buzzing sound became more and more rapid.

"It was obviously she who gave it her all first. I can't just stand there and take the beating!" Zhuang Sen crossed his arms and explained helplessly, but his eyes glanced at Aurora from time to time.

Aurora glared at Zhuang Sen in the blue light. "Hmph! If I hadn't reacted quickly, I would have died in the arena today."

Although his tone was firm, the anger in his eyes was gone.

Aurora stretched her recovered limbs, then turned to look at Jonson, who was struggling to hold on beside her. Her brow furrowed slightly as she said to Angron, "Angron, treat Jonson quickly. I didn't use any gentle pressure on him. He's badly injured, and he's holding on by sheer strength."

Zhuang Sen pursed his lips and remained silent, beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, his face was slightly pale, and his legs trembled slightly due to pain, but he still stood upright stubbornly.

Angron glanced at Jonson and raised his hand to point the blue-lighted instrument at him.

In an instant, a soft blue light enveloped Zhuang Sen like a flowing stream.

Runes flickered on the instrument's surface, emitting a steady, continuous hum. After a moment, the blue light gradually dissipated. Zhuang Sen's wounds healed at a visible speed, and his once dim eyes regained their brilliance. He took a deep breath, straightened his back, and stretched his shoulders. The fatigue and pain in his body seemed to have never existed.

"Alright." Angron put away his equipment, looked up at the two, and said teasingly, "Next time, can you two be more measured and not make it like a life-or-death duel?"

Aurora chuckled and pushed Zhuang Sen. "Did you hear me? Let's both take it easy next time."

Zhuang Sen raised the corner of his mouth and smiled: "Okay, I'm just afraid that when the time comes, you will go all out and I won't be able to withstand it." The laughter of the three people echoed in the room, diluting the previously pervasive tension.

Angron placed the instrument casually on the table and looked through the open door toward the arena.

The figures of Zhuang Sen and Aurora gradually faded away, finally disappearing from sight. He withdrew his gaze and scanned the courtyard. The whole garden was littered with World Eaters warriors lying on the ground in a mess.

These World Eaters, though a makeshift guard, were like his own children to Angron. Some lay on the ground, bruised and battered, while others huddled together, their bodies bare no signs of combat.

“This is outrageous!” Angron cursed under his breath, folding his arms over his chest and pacing back and forth.

Anger was burning in his chest, and he even thought about calling the police and reporting the two people to the higher-ups.

In order to save their own face, these two guys actually knocked out their own "offspring". This is really hard to swallow.

Angron grew increasingly angry as he thought about it. He kicked a piece of gravel near his feet. The gravel rolled a long way and only came to a stop when it struck an unconscious body.

Fortunately, Angron restrained his strength.

Chapter 271 Fruit and the Newly Returned Brother.

"Oh my god! Bro!"

In the spacious cockpit of the Vengeful Spirit, Horus' eyes widened, his face filled with exaggerated surprise. His voice rose, "How can you eat so much? You're like a fruit version of Leman Russ!"

A smile played on Sanguinius's lips. His slender fingers pinched a bunch of grapes, and with graceful movements, he slowly placed each one into his mouth. He licked each grape gently, as if savoring a supreme delicacy, and only swallowed it reluctantly after a long pause.

"Oh? Is that worth being so surprised, my dearest Horus? You can't be so stingy, can you? I only ate a little bit of your fruit."

Horus frowned and pointed to the empty fruit plate beside him: "You finished your share of fruit a long time ago, and what you are eating now is mine. Besides, from just now until now, I have only seen you eating alone." As he spoke, Horus picked up a bright red fruit. As soon as he picked it up, he caught a glimpse of Sanguinius baring his teeth slightly, as if protecting his food.

Horus chuckled and tossed the fruit into the air. He tilted his head back and bit it accurately, the flesh bursting between his teeth. "This tastes quite good. I'll have to ask Terra's logistics department to bring in more next time."

Sanguinius shook his head, a trace of regret flashing in his eyes. "I'm afraid I'll disappoint you, Horus. Terra's logistics department has clearly stipulated that this kind of fruit is only supplied to the Regent and the Emperor. What we eat is already the lowest quality of this kind of fruit. The best quality has long been delivered to the Regent and the Emperor's plates."

Sanguinius was extremely knowledgeable in fruit tasting, second to none among the Primarchs, so his words were naturally very convincing.

Horus heard Sanguinius' words without a trace of surprise on his face. His expression was calm, as if all this was within his expectations. "It is natural, brother. The best things should be given to Father and Mother."

Sanguinius raised his hand and subconsciously touched his face, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes. "But from what I've observed, few of our newly returned brothers hold such views."

"What do you mean?" Horus frowned slightly, his eyes full of confusion, and his body leaned forward slightly, obviously full of curiosity about Sanguinius' words.

Sanguinius picked up another plump date, slowly put it into his mouth, and after chewing it for a few times, he continued: "Nuceria, when the Emperor's Dream passed by there again, it didn't even stop. Our newly returned brother has not yet met the Emperor." There was a hint of sigh in his tone, and the deep meaning in his words was thought-provoking.

At the same time, his slender fingers gently stroked the edge of the fruit plate, as if he was thinking about something.

"That being said, it doesn't mean anything. The Emperor is so busy with all sorts of affairs that even the time I have to be alone with him is becoming less and less."

Horus crossed his arms across his chest, a look of helplessness on his face. He looked past Sanguinius, as if through the bulkhead, and saw the Emperor slaughtering aliens in the starry sky.

Sanguinius seemed oblivious to Horus's words, his attention completely focused on the fruit before him. His fingertips moved nimbly across the fruit bowl, popping each fruit into his mouth, his cheeks bulging like a gluttonous squirrel.

Horus' words were like passing clouds in his ears, causing no ripples at all.

Horus had been at Sanguinius's side ever since his return to the Imperium, and scenes like this had become commonplace over the years.

Horus knew Sanguinius's temperament very well. Seeing him like this, he shook his head helplessly, smiled bitterly and sighed softly. He said no more, raised his hand and rubbed his temple to relieve some of his fatigue.

In the cockpit, only the subtle sound of Sanguinius chewing fruit and the occasional sigh of Horus intertwined into a unique melody.

"Stop sighing, brother! I can't even enjoy eating fruit with you sighing like that." Sanguinius swallowed the last bite of fruit, raised his hand to wipe the corner of his mouth, turned his gaze to Horus, and there was a bit of concern in his joking tone.

As soon as he finished speaking, he casually put down the empty fruit plate, and instantly put away the playful smile on his face, his expression becoming serious: "Instead of sighing, you might as well think about how to deal with the future without the 19th Legion."

"Our new brother is back?" A hint of surprise flashed in Horus' eyes, followed by a hint of worry. His hands clenched unconsciously, and his knuckles turned white from the force.

Sanguinius nodded slightly, his tone steady, "It's said they're on Redemption. The Emperor's Visionary Dream should have arrived." As he spoke, he walked to the porthole and gazed at the vast starry sky, as if he could penetrate the endless darkness and see the scene on Redemption. "The situation over there is unknown. We must be prepared."

Horus strode to the side of Sanguinius and stood shoulder to shoulder with him, his brow furrowed and his eyes deep: "I hope everything goes well. If the new brother returns..." Before he finished speaking, the seeds of expectation had been planted in the hearts of the two men, quietly waiting for the opportunity to sprout in the unknown cosmic storm.

Sanguinius was about to raise his glass when, as if suddenly remembering something, he set it down and turned to Horus with a serious expression. "If you truly want to return the 19th Legion, I urge you to seize the opportunity to train your own warriors. After all, this Legion must eventually be returned to its rightful owner."

Horus raised his hand and rubbed his smooth chin, lost in thought. After a moment, he tentatively spoke, "What do you think? Would it be better if I could recruit all those troublemakers from other legions into my own? Not only would it solve the other legions' problems, but I might even be able to use them for my own benefit."

"Oh? My Wolf Shepherd God, you are truly a genius!" Sanguinius' eyes widened, the surprise on his face exaggerated to the point of being comical, his voice unconsciously rising, "Have you ever considered that if these troublemakers get together, it will only make the management of the legion even more difficult? By then, the internal situation will be in chaos, and we won't be able to talk about combat effectiveness!" After saying that, he shook his head helplessly, raised his hand to support his forehead, and looked as if he was disappointed in his friend.

Horus scratched his head, a trace of embarrassment flashing across his face. "It seems... that's the case. It seems my idea is too simple."

Sanguinius patted Horus on the shoulder and said earnestly, "Instead of trying to take shortcuts, it is better to truly improve the strength of our warriors and take steady steps to truly build an elite division."

A cunning glint flashed in Sanguinius's eyes, and a smirk curled the corners of his mouth. He quipped, "Instead of trying to find a shortcut, why not bring our sister number 11, that all-round genius, aboard and serve as your personal logistics manager?"

Horus was stunned for a moment when he heard this, then shook his head like a rattle, waving his hands in the air. "Brother, you can't do this! If you really do this, in the eyes of the brothers, I will be more ambitious than Guilliman. From now on, they will probably look at me with caution."

Thinking of that scene, Horus shuddered, as if he could already feel the suspicious gazes from his brothers.

Sanguinius was not in a hurry and put forward another idea, his tone becoming more and more playful: "How about inviting the sun goddess Aurora over? Let her light shine on every planet and illuminate your shiny head at the same time. The warriors under her command are all good at charging into battle!" As he said this, Sanguinius looked Horus up and down, his eyes lingering on his bald head for a moment, and he couldn't help laughing.

Horus, both indignant and amused, raised his hand as if to strike Sanguinius. "You're such a snob! You're using my head for a laugh. Aurora is too busy protecting the galaxy to be at my disposal."

Sanguinius stopped smiling and patted Horus on the shoulder. "Alright, enough joking. Let's get down to business, training warriors. That's the real business."

Horus glared at Sanguinius unhappily, then gazed out the porthole at the boundless starry sky, his thoughts drifting away. "I know, of course, that there are no shortcuts to building a strong army. It's just that the war is pressing, and I'm always looking for ways to quickly increase our combat power."

Sanguinius dropped his joking expression, his face turning serious. His tone was steady and resolute, "The more urgent the war, the more we must not lose our composure. We must calm down and take a long-term view. I heard that Mortarion has developed new weaponry. Perhaps we could go and exchange ideas and learn from their experience."

Horus's eyes lit up when he heard this. He turned to face Sanguinius, arms folded. "That's a good idea! Mortarion has always been resolute, and now it seems he has a knack for weapon research and development. However, given his aloof and arrogant nature, would he be willing to share his findings with us?"

"But you're the only one the aloof Mortarion knows best, aren't you?" Sanguinius's lips curled up slightly, revealing a confident smile. "And don't worry, I've dealt with him several times before and know his temperament. As long as we approach with sincerity and present a mutually beneficial proposal, he won't refuse. Perhaps we can even use this opportunity to strengthen the bond between the Primarchs."

Horus nodded heavily, and a hint of relief finally appeared on his tense face: "Okay! Let's do as you say. After we finish arranging the matters at hand, we will go to visit Mortarion." After that, he strode to the control console and began to issue relevant instructions. A busy humming sound of machines sounded in the cockpit.

Sanguinius stood aside, watching Horus's methodical appearance, nodded with satisfaction, and silently hoped that this cooperation would bring a new turning point.

On the surface of the Redemption Star, yellow sand filled the sky, and the strong wind carried the sand and gravel, raging like a sharp blade.

In this desolate place, the Emperor's Dream is like a giant floating metal island, blocking out the sky and the sun. The complex runes and carvings on the hull emit a cold and mysterious aura under the sunlight.

The hatch slowly opened, and a golden figure stepped out. It was the Emperor.

He was wearing gorgeous and heavy golden armor, and each piece of armor looked like a carefully crafted work of art. It emitted a dazzling light on the desolate planet, making it impossible for people to open their eyes.

The energy halo flowing on the surface of the armor, like a lively flame, adds a bit of majesty to it.

Every step the emperor took left clear and deep footprints in the sand.

On either side, the towering imperial guards stood like rocks of loyalty, their towering helmets, their scarlet plumes rustling in the wind, their spears gleaming coldly, their tips pointing toward the heavens.

The power armor they wore also shone with a metallic luster, contrasting with the Emperor's golden armor, making them look like divine soldiers and generals guarding the gods.

The natives of Redemption Star witnessed this scene from afar and fell to the ground in kowtow, with awe and fear intertwined in their hearts.

In their eyes, the emperor is a god who has come to earth and controls the fate of all things with just a few gestures.

At this moment, in a hidden corner of the planet, a figure was watching the Emperor's every move through a worn telescope, his eyes gleaming with complex light...

He still remembers.

In the dim incubator filled with light blue nutrient solution mist, Clarks' consciousness gradually regained consciousness.

In the hazy air, he heard voices outside the cabin, soft yet penetrating, dispelling the chaos in his mind. He struggled to open his eyes and saw two figures through the hazy glass of the incubator.

The emperor, shrouded in light, wearing a white robe, exudes a soft yet majestic glow; the mother has an elegant figure, her eyes full of love and concern.

At that time, he pressed himself against the glass of the incubator, trying to catch every word. Although the shaking of the nutrient solution made his vision a little blurry, he could still clearly feel the expectations his parents expressed for him.

This bond from the depths of his blood planted a warm seed in his heart, accompanying him through the long hours of sleep. This memory was also buried in the deepest part of his mind.

The wind of Redemption Star was still howling, and the figure on the Emperor's shoulder was

It looked like an ordinary wooden handle, but suddenly a faint light appeared and the figure was hidden in an instant.

A disembodied voice echoed from the void: "Emperor, when you see Clarks later, please do not speak if you can. I will convey your thoughts. Please do not do the same as last time."

The Emperor tilted his head slightly, his gaze seemingly penetrating the invisible, locking onto the puppet's position. A smile played at the corner of his mouth, and his tone was somewhat teasing: "What went wrong last time? Every time I invite my children to join the Great Crusade, hasn't it always gone smoothly? They sensed my sincerity and gladly responded to the call."

The puppet's voice was filled with helplessness as he continued to ramble on. "To excite yourself further, you stole the car I gave to Curze and ran rampant through the city, nearly causing chaos. And against Chagatai Khan, you and I disguised ourselves as nomads and stood guard at the intersection where he must pass every time he herded his sheep. We stayed there for most of the day, even going back and forth several times for days without even saying a word. If I weren't the most patient of the Immortals, I would have slapped you in the face long ago!"

"But it all worked out in the end, didn't it?" The Emperor retorted, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows, a hint of pride on his face.

"That's me, okay? It's all thanks to me! It has nothing to do with you!" The puppet was so angry that his voice changed. His originally hidden figure suddenly appeared, and his translucent arms were raised high, and with a "slap" sound, he slapped the emperor on the head.

This hit was like a mosquito biting an elephant, with no effect at all.

The Emperor simply shook his head slightly.

Chapter 272 Guilliman Wants a Piece of Cake

The puppet and the emperor stood quietly in front of the house.

This house was newly built by Clarks Mining, and the materials used are very old.

Their eyes slowly swept over the mottled cracks on the wall, like the vicissitudes of life carved by time. The window frames had also been deformed, making slight creaking sounds in the breeze.

The puppet was fully convinced that his 19th son, Clarks, who he had created, should be like the famous Fulgrim, controlling everything from a high position on this planet, sitting in a luxurious palace, leisurely squeezing the wealth and lives of the people and enjoying supreme honor.

However, when she stepped into the house, a completely different scene came into view.

Inside the house, everyone sat around a slightly worn long table. The steaming pot of rice gave off a rustic aroma. Clarks was unassuming and ate with relish, holding coarse porcelain bowls with everyone else.

He had a friendly smile on his face and talked to the people around him without any arrogance or alienation.

The puppet stood aside, watching this scene, feeling mixed emotions and a sudden surge of heartache.

She couldn't understand why Clarks gave up the power and wealth he should have and chose to share the joys and sorrows with everyone.

"My child, we've come here hoping you'll take a longer-term view. Humanity's future requires more habitable planets. Currently, a group of forces is not only enslaving humanity but also slaughtering people in an attempt to challenge human supremacy."

The two wooden boards between the puppet's throats rubbed against each other, producing an ethereal and beautiful sound. "I hope you can lead your own legion to liberate oppressed planets one after another, allowing the light of freedom to shine once again."

As he spoke, the puppet tried hard to control his gaze, forcing himself not to look at Clarks and the food in front of the workers.

Even in the third millennium of human history, any food you pick up is far superior in appearance and quality to what we see before us - these foods are gray in color, have no aesthetic appeal, emit a disgusting smell, and are really hard to swallow.

Clarks picked up the 0ml bowl and drank the cloudy and sticky food in one gulp. Then he stuck out his tongue and licked the bottom of the bowl clean.

Unexpectedly, his appearance aroused the Emperor's curiosity, and the Emperor also wanted to taste the unique food of this so-called "Star of Savior".

"Mother, I will personally lead the 19th Legion, shoulder the mission entrusted to me, and liberate the oppressed planets one by one. However, I hope..." Before Clarks could finish his words, a violent cough suddenly rang out.

He looked in the direction of the sound and saw that the emperor had just swallowed a bowl of equally sticky food quickly. He was now bent over and coughing.

At first, the Emperor did not have time to savor it, but as the food slid into his stomach, an indescribable taste spread in his mouth and stomach. Even Nurgle's disgusting soup was probably inferior to it.