Chapter 214: I Am Emperor, You Are Warlord

The wings of Saint Guilliman gently lifted, shimmering with a warmth like sunlight.

Angaron's brain was occupied by the Flayer's Nail, his will consumed by mad frenzy, yet he remained a Primarch.

He sensed that Saint Guilliman was no longer the same—as if more dangerous than before.

In an instant, Angaron saw only a storm of gold and crimson surging toward him, the air filled solely with explosive roars.

Angaron barely managed to shift his body aside.

Yet the Spear of Completion pierced through Angaron's right shoulder like an arrow.

The two Primarchs were so close that Angaron could almost smell the blood seeping from Saint Guilliman's wounds.

The Archangel chuckled softly, lifting his spear slightly.

The sharp blade tore directly from Angaron's shoulder blade, spraying a wave of blood.

In an instant, only half of Angaron's left shoulder remained attached to his torso.

Angaron let out a furious roar, swinging his Sanguinius Axe toward Saint Guilliman.

Saint Guilliman evaded the massive blade with effortless grace.

The Spear of Completion carved an arc through the air at a speed and elegance beyond mortal comprehension, its tip brushing lightly across Angaron's eye.

The sound of the spear piercing the air was crystal-clear and beautiful, evoking the midnight breeze sweeping through a vast palace.

A jet of blood erupted from Angaron's eye, resembling the crimson scar across the sky of Baal.

Saint Guilliman's spearhead plunged the demonic Primarch into darkness for a fleeting moment.

"You see, my blessings are stronger than yours."

Saint Guilliman bowed lightly, thrusting the Spear of Completion upward toward Angaron's throat.

The spearhead pierced through Angaron's throat, half emerging from the back of his neck.

To a mortal body, this would be fatal—but Angaron was ultimately a demonic Primarch.

His axe blade became jammed firmly in the ornate hilt of Saint Guilliman's exquisite Spear of Completion, halting its advance entirely.

"This is our father's fault—he added too many decorations to the spearhead," Saint Guilliman sighed.

Then he yanked the spear free with a sudden motion, and it shattered into hundreds of thousands of glowing points, striking Angaron's body like countless laser beams.

The Lord of the Red Veil was instantly drenched in torrents of blood.

"First you were a slave to nobility, then a slave to rage, then a slave to our father, then a slave to the Blood God."

Saint Guilliman spoke in a gentle voice:

"I understand your rage, but I cannot understand why you betrayed one master only to become another's slave—does that grant you even a sliver of freedom? I see only heavier chains binding you."

"Yet if you're willing to betray the Blood God once more, the one who blessed me might grant you true end and peace—so at least you may escape your suffering."

As he spoke, Saint Guilliman turned his gaze to Zhou Yun behind him.

Zhou Yun subtly jiggled his fourth-dimensional pocket, a smile on his lips as if welcoming Angaron inside.

Angaron roared, spitting saliva, and swung his Sanguinius Axe in a wide arc toward Saint Guilliman.

But Saint Guilliman, enhanced by the Acceleration Gear, was far too fast—even Angaron, a Primarch himself, could not match his speed.

Even the swiftest of the Primarchs, Jaghatai Khan, would struggle to keep pace with the Archangel now.

Saint Guilliman evaded perfectly; the Sanguinius Axe passed less than half a centimeter from his golden armor.

"Has the Blood God's blessing run out for you?" Saint Guilliman's lips curled into a faint smile.

Angaron, whose wounds were slowly healing, let out a roar.

He seemed to mock Saint Guilliman for accepting the Warp's blessing—and even taking pride in it—as retaliation.

The once-pure angel had fallen into the Warp's power!

Saint Guilliman nodded slightly, smiling: "So what?"

"Look at my wings—do you think they're natural?"

"Ten thousand years ago, didn't you notice my wings defied the laws of physics?"

As he spoke, Saint Guilliman gently vibrated his wings, making the silver chains hanging from them chime softly.

The once-white wings had somehow taken on a metallic blue hue, as if signaling Saint Guilliman had accepted power not meant for him.

"Long before, when I first landed on Baal, I received the Warp's blessing—and these wings came with it."

"If we speak of receiving the Warp's blessing, Angaron, you are the latecomer."

"For ten thousand years, I feared the origin of my power, worried over its impurity, always striving to prove myself pure and perfect."

"But ten thousand years have passed—I've come to accept it. What of the Warp? Even Guilliman is not entirely free of it."

Saint Guilliman raised his Spear of Completion, its tip stained with blood, pointing at Angaron's massive form:

"I no longer need to prove my purity or loyalty. I am Saint Guilliman—I am the embodiment of loyalty and purity."

His words carried no pride, as if merely stating a fact.

Angaron roared, and flames erupted along his Sanguinius Axe.

The Chaos Daemon within the weapon shrieked in agony as Angaron drained its power.

The Blood God's voice echoed in Angaron's ears; the beast's entire body burned with an indescribable, twisted brass fire.

Angaron charged at Saint Guilliman like a fully powered knightly mech.

"You are far weaker than I, Angaron," Saint Guilliman said calmly. "But I still owe a debt—and you will repay part of it."

Saint Guilliman's spear struck Angaron's right shoulder again; in an instant, the shoulder was severed, dissolving into pure aether, leaving only the Sanguinius Axe clattering to the ground.

At that moment, the tomb chamber trembled again; Saint Guilliman's gaze flickered.

Angarath was drenched in blood, his body carved with horrific gashes by the Norn's blades, his soul seared by psychic fire.

Angarath felt rage—uncontrollable rage.

First Maryst was exiled to Baal, then the Blood Knight Jor wielded that strange toy sword.

He had barely returned to Baal's main world, only to encounter these damned insects inside the Angel's Keep.

Angarath knew he had wasted too much time.

He roared, bringing down the axe forged from another Bloodthirster, cleaving straight through the Norn's skull and ripping out its pale blue brain tissue.

The horrific Tyranid creature's head toppled to the battlefield, its Hive Mind weakened by the loss.

Instantly, the thick Warp shadows looming over all of Baal receded significantly.

In the Warp, the Blood God let out a triumphant growl; within his twisted, bestial eyes, the three stars of Baal appeared.

The Blood God's claw, sheathed in brass armor, seized one of the twisted lances from the pile beside the Brass Throne.

Using Angaron as an anchor, He aimed at the three stars of Baal.

Saint Guilliman, sensing this within the tomb, shifted his gaze slightly.

"The Hive Mind finally broke," he sighed, then used the Spear of Completion to lift the fallen Sanguinius Axe and tossed it to Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun caught the demonic blade instantly and shoved it without hesitation into his fourth-dimensional pocket.

"Sorry—this will have to do for now."

Saint Guilliman murmured:

"I must banish Angaron back to the Warp quickly—the Blood God is watching."

He had intended to subdue Angaron so Zhou Yun could sell him off entirely via the fourth-dimensional pocket.

But Saint Guilliman felt the Blood God's gaze.

With the Great Rift opening and the Hive Mind weakened, the Blood God could now use Angaron's potent Khorne blessing as an anchor to strike directly into the material realm.

Angaron's body churned with lethal bloodlust; the Blood God, displeased by Saint Guilliman's dismissal, raised his razor-sharp axe and swung it downward.

"Stasis Field," Zhou Yun's voice suddenly rang out.

A force bubble shot from his fingertip, engulfing Angaron's legs; his movement slowed imperceptibly.

Saint Guilliman's form blurred into afterimages; though Angaron slowed only slightly, in the combat of Primarchs, under Saint Guilliman's Acceleration Gear, even that tiny delay was fatal—

Angaron's head was severed instantly, so fast he didn't even register it.

His body crashed to the ground, dissolving into crimson light points.

In the Warp, the Blood God roared in fury, slamming his lance back into the sand beside the Throne.

The three stars of Baal in his vision grew hazy; brilliant blue-gold light, like wings, enveloped the entire Baal system.

Instantly, a chaotic storm of gold and blue erupted, swallowing the three stars of Baal in an instant, rendering them indistinct—as if hidden between the rift of reality and the Warp, drastically weakening the Blood God's projection onto Baal.

In the Warp, Jaghatai Khan stood beside the dissolving corpses of eight Bloodthirsters, watching the scene unfold.

The three stars of Baal were being consumed by a pale golden Warp storm; within it floated an angel composed of blue and gold light, gazing toward the Khan.

The Khan noticed a twisted fissure on the angel's body, cutting across his wings, pulsing with the profane energies of the Four Gods and Horus's presence.

The angel's lips curled into a smile, sending a chill through the Khan.

A voice suddenly echoed in his ear.

"Wanna come with me to find Guilliman? The three of us could form a new Second Empire—you'd be its Warlord."

The Khan shuddered, mounted his bike without hesitation, and led the Stormseers back into the Webway.

(End of Chapter)