Chapter 205: Khorne: All-In Is Wisdom!

KILL!! KILL!! KILL!! KILL!!

ANGER!! ANGER!! ANGER!! ANGER!!

A bestial rage instantly seized Gabriel Seth's soul; black fury and crimson bloodlust surged simultaneously from his spirit and flesh,

He saw—he saw in the blood a dark future,

That space-walking entity named Zhou Yun, that Doraemon who would corrupt Saint Guilliman!

This is a blasphemous blue conspiracy! He claims to resurrect Saint Guilliman, yet seeks to implant a space-walking entity he has already corrupted into Saint Guilliman's body!

This is the truth he saw in the blood! The darkness and rage within the blood!

KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL!

Sever the head of that blasphemous space-being, and use its skull to honor Saint Guilliman's remains!

KILL! KILL! KILL! KILL!

Only by killing him can Saint Guilliman's corruption be averted!!

"Seize the skull! Seize the skull!!"

Gabriel Seth let out a bestial roar; the holy chainsword in his hand, named Bloodthirster, whirred violently, spewing the greasy stench and smoke of machinery as its jagged blades tore through the air.

His vision blurred with that aboard the Revenant,

He was not merely charging toward Zhou Yun—he was charging toward Horus, toward Erebus, toward the dark gods who manipulated schemes,

"Brother Seth!!" Ma Lei roared, trying to halt Seth.

But in Seth's eyes, Ma Lei had become Abaddon, blinded by Chaos and Erebus—and Seth would never be a little Horus.

Blood! Blood is burning!

He heard war cries echoing in the chapel, saw the archangel's wings trembling, saw countless glorious warriors from the Chapter's history standing beside him,

Rage, Seth,

Hate, Seth,

Kill, Seth,

Gabriel Seth, you were born to drown in blood,

Seth roared as he swung the chainsword toward Zhou Yun—he nearly saw Zhou Yun's body torn apart, blood splattering the ground,

He longed to taste blood, to taste the reward of rage,

Yet Zhou Yun stood motionless, as if certain Seth's blade could not touch him,

This made Seth even angrier—

Bloodthirster suddenly grew heavy; the chainsaw slowed, then stalled mid-swing—the weapon that had accompanied Seth for over a century defied his command and froze in place,

Seth froze before Zhou Yun,

The machine-soul of Bloodthirster roared in fury, conveying its anger to Seth, causing the blood-haze over his eyes to thin slightly,

Seth felt the holy reliquary at his waist warming gently,

Slash down! Slash down! Slash down!

Offer the skull! Offer the skull!

Seth faintly sensed pairs of blood-stained hands reaching for him, touching the reliquary at his waist,

"GET OFF!! GET OFF!!!!"

Seth roared, and Bloodthirster roared with him; the searing chainsaw did not strike Zhou Yun, but slashed at the deep, dark blood-mist before him,

Demonic shrieks erupted—Seth's chainsword tore through the Bloodletters surrounding him; these manifestations of Khorne's will let out piercing screams as their physical forms in the material realm were shattered by Gabriel Seth's blade,

Seth seized the reliquary at his waist; the holy relic, forged by the first Chapter Master of the Flesh Tearers, opened automatically, revealing the white feather of Saint Guilliman, a full arm's length, suspended in midair, its single drop of blood emitting a faint warm glow,

"HAA!!"

The demons shrieked in terror—the blood-mist before Seth vanished instantly.

He finally saw the chapel clearly,

The material realm was bleeding—deep crimson gashes tore open across the chapel's walls; Bloodletters, Khorne Berserkers, Flesh Hounds—various manifestations of Khorne's power poured through the rifts, ravaging the chapel,

The Librarians who had survived their battle with Kabanha now fought alongside Mephiston, Zhou Yun, and the Dreadnought Ma Lei against the demons,

Mephiston used his immense psychic power to slay the endless waves of Bloodletters spilling from the rifts,

Zhou Yun's figure flickered and teleported across the battlefield, using his arms to block demonic attacks and shoving them into the pockets on his belly,

Ma Lei was surrounded by a horde of Bloodletters and Flesh Hounds, yet relied on his Dreadnought's iron frame to continuously shatter their material forms,

The Librarian warriors occasionally clutched their heads, as if resisting the Blood God's influence,

And the Flesh Tearers who had followed Seth were worse—they fought almost indiscriminately,

"In the name of Saint Guilliman's blood!!!"

Seth roared, raising his holy relic—the feather of Saint Guilliman now emitted a faint glow:

"Fight for the Sacred Blood! Remember whence our rage comes! Know for what we must die!!!"

Seth's voice and the relic's radiance took effect—both Flesh Tearers and Librarians flashed with sudden clarity,

They growled in fury—not from the Blood God, but from the Sacred Blood within them.

Seth faintly heard a sigh of regret, seemingly from the Brass Throne, mourning its failure to corrupt Seth.

"NO!!! NEVER!!!" Seth roared.

At that moment, a crackling sound echoed through the material realm—a rift far larger than before tore open in the chapel,

Boiling blood-mist nearly filled the entire chapel.

Mephiston cried out in alarm, instantly channeling his immense psychic power into his silver-steel longsword, attempting to block the demons emerging from the rift,

Yet in an instant, Mephiston was crushed to his knees, his face twisted in agony,

Zhou Yun, standing beside Seth, seized a Steel Bull by its body, hurled it aside, then turned his gaze to the rift,

Zhou Yun paused slightly—his eyes flickered with confusion, then clarity,

"Khorne went all-in!" he suddenly spoke.

Khorne regretted it,

Gabriel Seth, heir of the Flesh Tearers—he would have been an excellent Chosen, offering countless blood and skulls,

Too bad he rejected Khorne's blessing; otherwise, Khorne would not have minded elevating him to a Daemon Prince to carry out His will in the material realm,

Too bad. Truly too bad.

Khorne, regretting, pounded the armrest of the Brass Throne, unleashing a war cry that shook the entire Blood God's realm,

His power blazed fiercely; two of the largest, most terrifying figures within His realm raised their furious heads,

Pure black wings unfurled across a sky burning with sulfurous flame; horned bestial heads lifted high, their fanged maws roaring with savage fury; crude brass armor could not conceal the monstrous power of their bodies,

They were the perfect embodiment of Khorne's will, the favored children of slaughter and war, the most favored Greater Daemons beneath the Throne of Brass and Skulls, the Lord of Bloodletters, the Herald of Death.

The Daemon Axe, housing another Bloodletter, rose high; a blood-drenched whip cracked loudly in the other hand—it was Angron, Khorne's current Chief Greater Daemon, the Unbound.

Khorne's power enveloped its body; it swore by Khorne's name to return eight thousand eight hundred and eighty-eight skulls of the Blood Angels.

Roaring, Angron tore open a rift and charged toward Baal through the crimson warp storm,

Another terrifying entity within Khorne's realm seemed even more savage and mad than Angron, as if since its birth it had known no emotion but rage for eons,

Upon its head grew a monstrous mane of steel cables, iron chains, warts, and nails—horrifying to behold,

Its wings churned storms within the warp; a pair of wings like those of the devils from ancient Terra's legends, each crimson arm gripping a weapon: one a screaming chainsword axe, as if millions of souls were trapped within; the other a black greatsword, from which demonic screams occasionally echoed,

Angron, the Daemon Primarch Angron, one of the Emperor's twenty-one transcendent offspring, fallen into Khorne's grasp, a demigod,

He swung the Chainsword of the Spinebreaker, forged from ten thousand human lives, and the Daemon weapon Sanguinar, forged by Slaanesh's demons, unleashing a roar of boundless rage,

The triple stars of Baal appeared before him; Khorne's will flooded Angron's shell, the fire of rage burning within the Daemon Primarch like wildfire,

Angron flapped his wings and leapt toward the material realm—yet—

The warp wind swept past the shattered Webway near the triple stars of Baal; his braided hair fluttered,

Angron heard the cry of an eagle—it pierced through his rage, striking deep into his consciousness,

He did not reach Baal—he found himself standing on a grassland,

Wild laughter echoed in Angron's ears; boundless grasslands stretched beneath his feet, distant songs of steppe riders faintly audible,

"I raised the banner far beyond sight!"

"I beat the drum of black yak-hide!"

"I mounted the swift Uya horse! I donned iron-hard armor!"

"I seized the steel spear! I nocked the arrow wrapped in mountain peach skin!"

"Mount up! Mount up! Fight the dogs of the evil star!"

The eagle's cry grew clearer; Angron heard footsteps behind him,

"The stars spin, nations wage war!"

"No time even to sleep!"

"Steal, plunder!"

"The world turns, nations attack!"

"No time even to lie in bed!"

"Fight, kill!"

"No time to think—only act!"

"Where you say, go! Smash the hard stone!"

"Where you say, attack! Crush the hard rock!"

"Split the mountains! Dry the deep waters! Go kill bravely!"

In the depths of Anglon's shattered memories, there was a memory of that voice—its hearty laughter like gusts of wind across the steppe.

"This is an ancient song of the steppe; look, we Chogoris know war better than you ever will!"

"My brother who never finds joy, I am glad you remain as blind and furious as ever."

Anglon let out a furious roar and turned his head away; the steppe around him erupted in roaring flames.

The owner of the voice took shape as a hazy silhouette within the fire, his power blade the only thing gleaming brightly in his hand.

"In case you've forgotten, this blade's name is White Tiger. As the ancient Chogoris saying goes: When White Tiger cries at dawn, thunder rolls across the four wilds."

"Now, slave, taste the steppe's blade-storm."

Anglon roared with rage.

(End of Chapter)