Warhammer Cultivation: Cultivating the Tao Te Ching in the 40K Universe

Istvan V high orbit, Blood Angel flagship "Red Tear".

The bridge was deathly silent.

All the oracles were frantically alarming, and the red warning lights turned the entire hall blood red. But everyone present, including the Astartes monks who were used to life and death, seemed to have turned into statues.

Their gazes, through the massive reinforced glass porthole of the bridge, were fixed on the two opposing beams of light in the distance.

Azkaran, leader of the Holy Blood Guard, gripped the railing in front of him tightly with both hands.

The railings, crafted from fine gold, were already bearing deep finger marks from the immense force he unconsciously unleashed, but he was completely unaware of it.

As one of Sanguiles' closest offspring and one of the Ninth Legion's most powerful warriors, Azcalan once believed he understood the Primarch's power.

He had seen his father tear apart the giant green statue with one hand, and he had seen his father move through a million-strong army as if it were nothing.

He then realized that what he had seen before was only the tip of the iceberg of his father's power.

It was merely the "gentle" side of a father who carefully concealed his claws in front of ordinary people.

"Is this... the real you?"

Azkaran muttered to himself, his voice trembling.

The energy readings on the screen had already exceeded the limit, reaching a level that even a battleship's main guns could not achieve.

Those two orbs of light didn't look like living things at all.

Two living celestial bodies.

Two completely different rules of the universe collide after being visualized.

"The energy reaction is still increasing!"

A crew member's shout broke the silence.

"A subspace rift has been detected expanding! The spatial structure around Horus is collapsing!"

"Father……"

Azkalan stared at the dazzling golden figure in front of the black hole.

He saw Saint Gilles raise his sword.

There is no sound in a vacuum.

But Azkaran seemed to hear the battle cry in his father's heart.

In the silent space, the standoff ended.

Horus moved.

The small black hole behind him suddenly contracted, then transformed into a black torrent large enough to devour stars, crushing towards Saint Gilles.

Saint Gilles moved as well.

The wings of light behind him suddenly retracted and then exploded. He transformed into a golden sword, charging headlong into the black torrent without hesitation.

Under the witness of the universe.

They collided again, without any frills.

The screens of the Holy Blood Angels instantly turned deathly white.

All images, all sounds, all thoughts, all return to nothingness in this collision.

Chapter 538 The Fall of the Angels (Two chapters combined)

When that golden aurora, carrying the absolute will of "nothing outside the mind," collided with that all-consuming black-gold vortex, time on the high orbit of the Istvan V seemed to break at that moment.

This is not rhetoric, but a physical standstill.

The tip of the Spear of Bigong, with its golden edge that embodied all of Saint Gilles's spirit, struck precisely at the intersection of Horus's crossed "Claw of Horus" and the "Breaker" warhammer.

"boom--!!!"

Sound cannot travel in a vacuum, but at this moment, the energy density generated by the two is so high that it instantly "fills" the surrounding vacuum area of ​​hundreds of kilometers into a medium of some kind of high-energy plasma state.

Then, a deafening roar, powerful enough to shatter the souls of mortals, resounded in the silent universe.

The light that burst forth in that instant was ten thousand times brighter than the main star of István.

It was as if a supernova was born between their weapons, only to be destroyed in an instant.

"Break for me!!!" Saint Gilles roared, his entire body burning with divine wrath, golden Daoist energy frantically pouring into the spear, attempting to pierce through the thick layer of black-gold divine power.

"You're too light! My brother!" Horus laughed wildly, but the black and gold cloak behind him shattered inch by inch in the energy storm. The muscles in the arm that held the warhammer bulged, and the veins bulged like dragons and snakes, and he withstood the blow that pierced through the stars.

The shockwave spread outwards in a ring shape from the two people as the center.

Space was no longer a smooth canvas, but like a shattered mirror, with countless black cracks spreading wildly in the vacuum, each crack spewing forth purple subspace electric arcs.

The countless warship wrecks, meteorites, and even tiny satellite fragments that were originally in near-Earth orbit were reduced to nothing but basic particle streams by this shockwave, leaving not even dust behind.

Although there was no air, the shockwave that directly affected the soul caused all psionic beings in the galaxy to scream in agony, as if a red-hot iron hammer had struck their skulls.

After an extreme stalemate, the two beams of light finally bounced apart violently due to the mutually repelling forces of the laws, separating upon contact.

The two did not continue fighting on the spot.

After this collision, powerful enough to shatter a satellite, Horus used the recoil force to cause the space behind him to collapse violently.

He transformed into a black lightning bolt and crashed directly into a newly torn subspace rift.

"Want to run?!"

Saint Gilles' eyes blazed with fire, and the "Spear of Bigong" in his hand drew a golden trajectory in the void.

The twelve pairs of light wings behind him suddenly flapped, and he actually forced his physical body into the subspace rift that was about to close in the physical universe.

It's a battlefield relocation.

Horus is deliberately guiding this battle in one direction.

In the turbulent flow between subspace and reality, the two have already surpassed the concept of the speed of light.

They were like skipping stones on the river of time, each leap spanning several astronomical units.

From István V to the nebula at the edge of the galaxy, and then to that giant gas planet emitting a cold light.

A golden meteor chased after a black comet.

Each clash between the Spear of Bi Gong and the Warhammer of the Breaker leaves behind a series of gravitational ripples, like depth charges dropped onto a calm lake.

"What are you hesitating for, Saint Gilles?!"

Horus’s voice echoed through the warp currents, carrying endless mockery.

"Your spearhead is trembling! Is it because you can feel it too? That small boat that's recklessly charging towards us?"

Saint Gilles felt a chill run down his spine.

He did indeed sense that a familiar presence was rapidly approaching from the other side of the galaxy.

Those were his offspring, piloting the Ninth Legion's glorious Queen-class battleship, the "Red Tear," chasing after their father.

István III, high orbit.

The massive Red Tear, resembling a mobile space city, spews out plasma plumes several kilometers long from its engine nozzles as it travels at sub-light speed under overload conditions.

On the bridge, Azkaran's resolute face was now as pale as paper.

"High-energy reaction detected! It's just 3,000 kilometers ahead!" The radar officer's voice had changed, filled with fear.

"Catch up with your father."

Azkaran stared intently at the wildly fluctuating readings on the screen.

"All ships, listen to my command..."

"Boom!!!"

Before Azkalan could finish his command, the void in front of the bridge suddenly shattered like glass.

Two intertwined streams of light burst forth from subspace, carrying destructive momentum, and appeared in near-Earth orbit of Istvan III.

“That is…” Azkalan’s pupils contracted sharply.

The black giant, the figure they once revered as "War Commander," hovered diagonally above the Red Tear like a demon god.

Horus was enveloped in black and gold lightning, and he gripped Saint Gilles's wings tightly in his hands—the wings of the archangel, which were now cruelly torn apart by the power claws.

Horus looked down at the giant warship painted bright red at his feet, and at the golden emblem of the Holy Blood Angel on its bow.

A hint of contempt flashed in his eyes, as if he were looking at a fly that had foolishly wandered into a lion and tiger fighting arena.

"What a touching display of fatherly love."

Horus laughed wildly, his voice resonating through the void shield of the warship and reaching every corner of the Red Tear.

"Since you both want to be together so much..."

"Then I will help you!"

Horus withstood a backstab from the Spear of Bigong in the void.

The spear pierced his shoulder armor, and black blood gushed out, but he seemed to feel no pain.

With the combined brute force of the four gods, Horus gripped Saint Gilles' arm and exerted force.

Muscles bulged, and the power armor roared.

He regarded this most perfect creation in the galaxy as a human-shaped javelin.

"go to hell!!!"

Saint Gilles' body transformed into a golden meteor, which Horus hurled at the oncoming Red Tear in an extremely humiliating manner.

"No—!!!" the archangel roared in the air, trying to spread his wings of light to slow down and try to change direction.

But he's moving too fast right now.

That is the sum of the power of the Primarch and the inertia of the subspace.

"Collision warning! Collision warning!"

On the bridge of the Red Tear, red warning lights were flashing wildly.

How could such a giant ship, tens of kilometers long, possibly turn in a fraction of a second?

"boom--!!!"

A dull, heart-stopping bang.

Saint Gilles' body, like a high-density armor-piercing bullet, instantly pierced through the Red Tear's void shield.

Immediately following was the sound of the adamantite armor plates shattering and the groaning of the keel structure.

On the port side of the bow, near the third deck, a huge, radially shaped hole appeared out of nowhere.

The golden meteor did not stop. Carrying enormous kinetic energy, it smashed through dozens of bulkheads and destroyed several crew quarters, crashing into the depths of the warship amidst a sky full of fire and wreckage.

“Father!” Azkaran cried out in despair.

However, the nightmare had just begun.

"Hahahahaha!"

In the sky, the black demon god did not stop.

Horus's figure blurred, transforming into a black-gold drill, and followed the opening smashed by the archangel, crashing into the interior of the Red Tear.

Inside the Red Tear Ship.

This was once a mobile art palace. Exquisite tapestries hung in the corridors, and the dome was covered with epic murals depicting the Great Crusade.

But now, this place has become hell.

One of the load-bearing walls collapsed with a loud crash.

Saint Gilles struggled to his feet from the ruins.

His golden-red armor was tattered, his left wing was dull and lifeless, and golden blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.

But he ignored his own injuries.

Because, in my perception, the ship is wailing.