Chapter 368: Originally, You

"You actually fed me low-quality carbs!"

"How could you treat someone who loves fitness like this!"

"You're so evil!!!"

Magnus's furious rant left the Silent Sisters, Battle Sisters, and Guilliman momentarily stunned.

None of them understood what Magnus meant by those words,

but their movements did not pause.

Mo Wen Val, enhanced by Zhou Yun's Acceleration Spring, surged forward first, her luminous spear thrusting straight at Magnus's throat.

But an unexpected event occurred—Magnus stood motionless, drew a deep breath, tensed the muscles of his throat, and literally blocked the spear with his own flesh.

This situation completely exceeded the young Grand Mistress's expectations!

"Muscle! Isn't it amazing?!"

Magnus laughed heartily:

"Abandon these low-quality carbs and embrace the power of muscle with me!"

Before his words had even faded, Magnus's crimson giant claw slammed down onto Mo Wen Val's model armor's missile launcher.

A crack of ceramic steel shattered—Mo Wen Val felt as if she'd been struck by a full-speed Leman Russ tank, flung sideways and crashing hard into the gray-white lunar regolith, leaving a long trail behind her.

She stared in horror at her model armor's missile launcher, half-ripped apart despite its thick ceramic steel and field generator protection.

Is this truly the Emperor's divine offspring? Even after betrayal, still this powerful!

But according to records, Magnus shouldn't be a blasphemous sorcerer?!

Before Mo Wen Val could think further, Magnus charged like a crimson beast, raising his razor-sharp claw again.

But a blue-and-gold figure instantly appeared between Mo Wen Val and Magnus.

The War Child roared, battling the Crimson King.

The Hand of Dominion roared with power, its fist crashing into Magnus's crimson face—the impact shattered the thin air around them.

Along with it came the Blade of Imperial Fire, infused with the Emperor's holy might, slicing through the cold void and driving straight into Magnus's chest.

This lightning-fast strike tore open Magnus's chest; the Emperor's flame devoured the Daemon Primarch's flesh like a pack of wolves.

But the Daemon Primarch refused to yield, his crimson fists slamming down toward Guilliman's head.

In the blink of an eye, the sacred power armor's helmet was torn apart by the Daemon Primarch's fists, exposing Guilliman's skull to the lethal thin air.

Yet Guilliman showed no reaction to the environment—Mo Wen Val guessed this was the power of Saint Dora.

In moments, they clashed again and again—too fast for Mo Wen Val's mortal eyes to follow.

Finally, Magnus, enraged, realized Guilliman was unaffected by the environment—he growled and extended his crimson claws toward Guilliman.

Guilliman tried to leap away, but sparks flew from his damaged power armor leg, slowing his movement for an instant.

"Armor is just external junk—it can't match the reliability of your own muscles!"

Magnus roared, seized the leg, yanked Guilliman up, and hurled him toward a distant crater.

The force sent Guilliman flying like a blue meteor, slamming into the crater's surface—entire moon trembled.

Magnus moved to pursue, but a golden light descended from the sky, and a flaming silver sword swung down with crushing force.

The Crimson King reached to block—but suddenly caught sight of the winged figure's face—

The moment he saw it, Magnus recoiled in shock, stumbling backward several steps.

Even with his mind hollowed out, he recognized that face instantly—the one that had once frightened him.

Saint Sanguinius!!

But a moment later, Magnus realized something was wrong.

Not just Magnus—Mo Wen Val noticed it too.

This Saint Sanguinius was much smaller, and had a woman's body.

Is Saint Sanguinius a woman? Magnus frantically searched his memory for relevant knowledge.

No!

Mo Wen Val instantly realized—it wasn't Saint Sanguinius. It was Saint Celestine wearing Saint Sanguinius's face.

This was Zhou Yun's doing—he'd quickly molded clay onto Celestine's face, making the only other winged being besides Sanguinius appear as him to startle Magnus.

Meanwhile, the Archmagos Belisarius Dora Kaul hurried through an arbitrary gate, appearing beside Guilliman, swiftly repairing the damaged Fate Armor.

Realizing he'd been tricked, Magnus roared and punched Celestine.

The Living Saint raised her sword to block—but even as a Living Saint, she couldn't withstand the Primarch's blow.

Especially with the Silent Sisters further weakening her power.

Her silver sword shattered; the clay on her face tore apart under Magnus's fistwind; her wings bled, and she collapsed into the lunar regolith.

The Imperial Guard seized the brief opening Celestine had created, using arbitrary gates to deploy troops from the Valkyrie gunships onto the battlefield.

In the plan, the Adeptus Custodes were no less vital than Mo Wen Val and the Silent Sisters with their anti-psyker abilities—so they were deployed last.

Shield Captain Valerian led a squad of Custodes in a charge against Magnus.

They were the elite among elites, guardians of the Emperor's Throne, each a unique divine creation—they were—

"Too slow."

"You're Custodes, aren't you?"

"As my father's guards, haven't you trained properly?!"

Mo Wen Val grimaced as the Custodes were laid out by Magnus in an instant—only Shield Captain Valerian managed to hold out for a few rounds.

She even felt a flicker of despair—was there truly nothing, besides Primarchs, that could stand against this crimson demon?

But then, Mo Wen Val suddenly felt a tremor within her model armor's rebellious machine-spirit.

Without her command, the already-broken missile launcher activated itself.

Missiles laced with low-quality carbs—no, laced with the ashes of the Unmentionable and the Star-Beacon's cinders—roared forth and exploded across Magnus's face.

Instantly, Magnus's surging psychic power was drastically weakened.

"Yours is mine!"

"Mine is still mine!"

At the sound of these words, every Imperial soldier—including Mo Wen Val—felt their strength suddenly drained.

A flaming baseball bat suddenly swung out from the shadows, smashing directly into Magnus's face and his single eye.

The force sent blood spraying from Magnus's face—he was flung like a giant crimson baseball, crashing down not far from Mo Wen Val.

Mo Wen Val saw a muscular man with a shaved head, tiger-like face, and a baseball bat standing on the lunar regolith.

He knocked a Daemon Primarch away with one swing?!

This… this must be the power of Saint Dora!

Magnus, writhing in pain, struggled to rise from the regolith.

At that moment, a book suddenly fell beside his hand.

Magnus stared blankly at the book—the cover bore the words "The Book of Magnus."

Strange—this book had been discarded with his armor and weapons when he tried to lose weight. Why was it here?

Magnus couldn't resist picking it up.

He opened it—most pages were blank or smeared with black ink.

The remaining text… hmm—he suddenly realized he couldn't read.

But merely holding the book, he felt a strange sensation.

He sensed his muscle power flowing smoothly through the book—as if it were part of him, the source of his muscle power, his essence, inseparable and uncuttable.

Magnus suddenly understood.

Could this book actually be his fitness and muscle-building diet guide?!

So… so…

"So you've been with me all along!!!"

Magnus let out a joyful roar.

Seeing Magnus pick up the blasphemous sorcery book, Mo Wen Val momentarily thought he was finally unleashing his dark magic—but

In Mo Wen Val's bewildered gaze, "The Book of Magnus" seemed to sense the Crimson King's will—it sprouted a gleaming adamantium spike, extended a long chain, and wrapped itself around Magnus's muscular arm like the weapon of a Glutton in the arena.

Magnus roared and hurled "The Book of Magnus" like a spiked ball.

The muscular man with the bat met the charge, bat clashing against the book—leaving Mo Wen Val staring in confusion at the battle.

She now suspected the Battle Sisters' archives had been secretly altered by the Inquisition.

Who said Magnus was the Primarch of the Thousand Sons, a blasphemous and powerful sorcerer?

Emperor above! He's clearly the Primarch of the World Eaters—a giant crimson ogre!

Mo Wen Val wasn't the only one bewildered.

The three Chaos Gods watching near Terra were equally confused.

But the Emperor and Khorne were still clashing, neither having spare attention for the battle on the Moon.

Only Tzeentch peered at the Moon, left and right.

After a long while, He finally gritted his teeth and spat out:

"All of this… all of this… was planned."

(End of Chapter)