Warhammer, how did I become Butcher's Nail!

"I can't believe it," Kolga asked, puzzled.

I'm not sure, but I can sense they aren't war hounds.

My initial assessment is that it should be the Blood Angel.

The roars of battle were deafening.

Soon, Korga saw Saint Geres, who was surrounded by a blood mist, and Saint Geres also saw Korga. After the two groups gathered together, Korga and his men took over the outer perimeter of the Holy Blood Guard.

"Your Highness Saint Geres?"

Korga lowered his arms and spoke respectfully.

Do you know how to get out?

Saint Jeremy looked at Kolga, who shook his head. The angel was not disappointed.

"This place is surrounded by a peculiar energy, like a small subspace, without the concepts of time and space. We discovered the source of all this right in the middle of the building."

"We tried to shut it down, but we failed."

Korga quickly relayed the information he knew to Saint Jeremy.

"We discovered some kind of creature bursting out from there, and the Death Guard and we suffered heavy losses."

Korga looked at Saint Geres. After all, with the addition of an imperial demigod, Korga believed that no matter what that thing was, they would deal with it quickly.

"Leave that creature to me. Angron is here too; we need to rendezvous with him!"

Saint Jeles thought of his brother. If he wasn't mistaken, his brother had also arrived here. Although he didn't know where he was now, since Kolga, the war hound, knew the source of this place, Saint Jeles thought that Angron would also go there!

"Does Kolga know the location of that place?"

Saint Geres looked down at Kolga, who nodded.

"lead the way!"

......

The numbers kept fluctuating as Mortarion and the Death Shrouds, his tenacious guard, his most loyal offspring, climbed up from the lower nest with their own hands, just as they had been selected.

7. It is constantly changing.

When the number reached 8, it changed to 9.

Ignoring the pain in his body, Mortarian saw the chimeras in the distance, the war hounds stationed in front of the elevator.

As Gel descended from Chimera, Mortarian stared intently at Varus, one of the four wizards behind him.

Where is Angron?

Mortarion asked.

"Our Lord is above."

"Gell responded."

"And His Highness Saint Geres, but the information we received is... nine days from now, above His Highness Mortalian..."

Before Ger could finish speaking, he saw Mortarian walk onto the elevator.

Gel rolled his eyes in exasperation and ordered Hypnos to fire a few more cannonballs.

P.S.: Second update, I'll start with two updates for now, I've been a bit busy these past few days~

Sorry, godfathers!

Volume 1: Chapter 183 (Chapter 174) Another Little Angel Arrives!

The marble and buildings are oozing pus, the stone slabs on the ground are as soft as mud, and blood is oozing out.

This is enemy territory. His thirst is flaring up. Azkelon feels his throat is dry and itchy. It's no exaggeration to say that he could drink the blood of countless enemies right now. He looks up at his father.

The restlessness was calmed down. Every Holy Blood Angel carries a poison in their heart, but the angels are their antidote.

Beneath the piles of corpses of the dead humans and aliens in the surrounding halls, pairs of giant hands pierced through the skulls of the humans and aliens within the piles of corpses. The Holy Blood Angels were stunned by this sight.

Korga was the first to react. He fired his last two explosive bullets, and the whistling sound of the bullets woke up the other Holy Blood Angels, who began to pick up their weapons.

Ahead were the tightly closed building doors.

That was their target this time.

The eight Holy Blood Angels gathered together, unleashing their full firepower. ★°／＼4】“—?

Saint Jeles stood at the forefront, weapon in hand. He recalled the ancient texts in the secret library of his father's palace, the myths describing demons and monsters. These things all confirmed their existence, and these humanoid creatures were probably far more terrifying than the nightmares described in the texts.

The figures of red dogs flickered around, and the howling beasts launched wave after wave of attacks. Korga raised his axe and cleaved open the body of a beast, blood flowing freely.

Theseus was assisting him, and he had killed more than anyone else, which aroused Saint Geres' curiosity. He glanced at the warhound, a valiant warrior.

Surrounded by demons, the group arrived at the entrance of the main hall. A death guard kicked open the heavy door, and everyone heard a laugh, which was not human but more like the roar of a wild beast.

"My brother, you've come!"

Saint Jeremy looked in the direction of the sound and saw a strange thing: an evil creature sitting on a pile of corpses, with the Holy Blood Angel, his offspring, forming his throne.

The small amount of green and the blue of the Ghost Company's power armor indicate that this creature has hunted many Imperial Supermen.

"Xiao Wu <■Qi Lu‰▲Si●［�e Fei Qun○：Heart！

Cole shouted a reminder to the angel that it was this very creature who had shattered his arm and left Typhon in a state of near-death.

"Do you like this scene, Golden Man!"

"From Baal's Holy Jerace! Oh! We all love blood, don't we!"

The monster slowly rose from the throne piled with corpses, strange black smoke swirling around his muscular torso. Like other demons, his body was crimson with fury. His arms were slightly bent, and he held a bronze axe in his hand. The bronze armor on his body testified to his remarkable achievements.

The yellow fangs bared on his face, the hatred he exuded seemed eternal, and the saliva in his mouth corroded the helmet of the dead Holy Blood Angel below.

"I only saw a monster that I was about to kill!"

Saint Jeremy roared, his angry voice echoing throughout the entire hall, and the monster laughed.

"Let me introduce myself. I am Kabanhar, the Bloodthirsty One, a general leading the army under the great Khorne. And you and I, my brother, are no different!"

The Blood Guard Terminators stood around the angel, enraged that their brother's body had been desecrated. Around the bloodthirsty one, countless crimson demons emerged, accompanied by black hounds that smelled of sulfur. The entire conference hall was far too small for either side to form a proper battle formation, as neither the bloodthirsty army nor the Ninth Legion warriors could effectively deploy their forces.

This will be a giant octagonal meat grinder.

Everyone was waiting, waiting for the orders to be given by the generals of both sides.

The angels moved forward, and so did Carbanha.

The black wings and white wings formed a stark contrast at that moment. For a brief instant, Korga felt that the thing was the opposite of an angel, a being completely contrary to nobility and kindness.

"You don't need to fight us."

Kabanha looked up.

"Blood, slaughter, isn't this the path we yearn for!"

"The power of Khorne is immeasurable. Your so-called resistance is merely a slight obstacle to our progress. The inevitable will surely come."

Kabanha brandished his 257, a long bronze whip, and a large axe.

"Perhaps we have met too soon! But you must know! Even your father avoids us like the plague; he fears us!"

Kabanhar saw the anger in the Primarch's eyes, he saw the angel smile, and Saint Jereth smiled with relief.

"Get away! Bastard!"

"Or let me kill you!"

Kabanha laughed, then his face fell.

I'm going to break your wings and turn you into a chicken!

The two clashed like thunderbolts; of everyone present, only Korga could keep his eyes fixed on the two demigods.

Cabanha moved even faster than in the image of Saint Geres. Sparks flew as the battle axe in his hand clashed with the spear in the angel's hand, and Cabanha swept his axe across the angel's lower body.

The angel's pure white feathers began to flutter and scatter in the air, causing Cabanha to miss his attack. The Primarch landed steadily and launched a knightly charge at Cabanha, the spear slicing across Cabanha's face and splitting his cheek.

Saint Jereth gave Kabanha no chance to catch his breath, but as the leader of Khorne's forces, he threw out his bronze whip, which wrapped around Saint Jereth's spear, and the two began to wrestle.

The remaining long bronze whip seemed to have its own will; its barbed tip swept across the angel's head, and the explosive bullets exploded above the angel. Kabanha and the angel turned around simultaneously.

Korga held a twin-barreled bolter that he had borrowed from his cousin, raising it with one hand.

Saint Jeremy was the first to react; he drew his longsword from his waist and thrust it forward, forcing the beast to defend itself.

With a roar, Kabanha threw down his whip and brandished his battle axe. He blocked every probing attack from Saint Geres. His angelic wings flapped, and he kicked up a spear from the ground, which pierced the air and struck Kabanha squarely in the chest.

But a battle axe blocked the fatal blow.

Saint Geres closed in and struck Kabanha in the face with his longsword.

Black blood flowed out, and Kabanha stumbled backward.

He spat out a mouthful of black, broken teeth and smiled.

"You hit it really well!"

"But I have no equal! You're just wasting your time!"

Kabanha roared!

"Again! Little angel!"

P.S.: First update, so tired!

Please vote!

Volume 1: Chapter 184 (Chapter 175) Angron: Then what am I?

A faint singing voice drifted out from the rain.

Mortarian raised the scythe to his hand, sensing something unusual. The songs drifted faintly from all directions, and a sense of unease crept into his heart.

The ground began to churn, and Mortarion finally realized something was wrong. When the first victim appeared, it was a shroud of death, its terracotta armor showing signs of decay. Mortarion turned around and saw large chunks of flesh swaying through its terracotta armor, the slippery flesh breaking through the armor, the arms swelling and twisting at a visible speed.

Mortarion brandished his scythe, severing the arm of the groaning offspring. It was some kind of plague or virus, the Primarch's first thought, but he soon realized he was wrong. The deformed arm gave birth to a deformed offspring. Mortarion's eyes widened as he saw a mouth emerge from the twisted muscles.

The mouth was breathing, and green gas was emanating from the arms of his offspring.

The blasphemous scene made Mortarian's eyes narrow. He leaned forward, wanting to save his offspring, but he was helpless as the rain began to steam as it fell to the ground.

"Mo~Tarian!" Lin

A short, sharp voice called Mortarian's name, which made Mortarian extremely uncomfortable.

"I've come to take you home!"

With a deafening roar, Mortarian saw a colossal figure emerge from the rain behind his offspring. He gazed at the countless figures approaching—a bloated, twisted creature with sharp, corrupted yellow teeth protruding from its chest. It clutched a cane like a frail old man.

Mortarian raised the Nether Lamp in his hand and pulled the trigger. As the explosive bolt shot out, it seemed to penetrate cotton. Laughter rang out around him. Mortarian remained silent, grabbed his war scythe, and stared intently at the abomination in the distance.

“We don’t need to fight, my family.”

“We are different branches of the same tree, Mortarion, son of Barbaros, you are a great tree, your new life makes us ecstatic, just like your brother, Angron.”

“Angron… Although he has rejected us, he will soon experience the love of a benevolent father.”

Mortarion looked at the laughing demons around him, which were unlike any he had seen before. He looked at his death shroud, and his offspring looked at him with pleading eyes. He was trying to get his genetic father to grant him a death, a dignified death.

Boom.

Mortarian has acted. Even though he is now severely injured, he is still a Primarch of the Imperial Demigods.

"I forgot to introduce myself. I am Merciful, I am the Rain Father Rotigus, and my brothers, join us!"

"Don't even think about it! You ugly beast!"

The Primarch rejected Rothrigus's offer and instead charged forward, his scythe swirling. His first strike severed the head of his own offspring, knowing they were beyond saving.

He led the Death Shrouds and his guards directly into the horde of Nurgle corpses. They silently executed the long-dead corpses. The rain began to fall strangely. When the first Death Shroud discovered a strange mushroom growing on his body, he quickly informed Mortarion.

souSuO:玖≯似'】八牭|◎叁±〈蓤〓'呜“坚韧！

This was Mortarian's only reply.

As the battle lines began to advance, Mortarian was extremely anxious. He didn't know what this wizard had done to his offspring!

But now he knows that he must kill him in order to save his offspring and himself!

The withered wooden staff fell heavily to the ground, and Mortarian felt the ground begin to become unusually muddy, as if it were a quagmire.