Chapter 575

They were never angels.

They were ghouls, mutants, the bloodiest and cruelest blade shaped by the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang.

He grabbed them from the deepest tunnels of Pluto, exposing their mutated limbs to the thin sunlight.

Terrified, they kowtowed, knelt, and begged to that King of Gold, not understanding why this King was attacking them.

They were just the most inconspicuous group of residents on this inconspicuous planet of Pluto; to adapt to the environment of this dwarf planet, they had mutated into a form far from their ancestors, just as in an era already forgotten by humanity, Pluto was downgraded from a planet to a dwarf planet.

But the King of Gold came; He released those bloodthirsty monsters wearing scarlet armor, who dived into their tunnels, invaded them, slaughtered them, and captured them.

They used all their abilities to resist the King of Gold, but it was to no avail; the King of Gold killed all their leaders and grabbed them one by one from the tunnels.

They knelt before the King of Gold; His perfect and sacred body burned their flesh and blood, as if it were that sun that could not be seen clearly on Pluto.

The King of Gold did not kill them; if He wanted to kill them, He only needed to use His fleet to completely blow up this dwarf planet.

The King of Gold implanted gene-seed into their bodies, conducting transformations of blood, flesh, bone, and genes on them.

They were reshaped; the mutations of the past no longer existed, and their weak spirits were completely reshaped; they were tall, they were strong, they had sound limbs like normal people, and they had golden hair and handsome faces.

But, they were still mutants, base monsters, even more deformed and terrifying than before.

The moment the transformation was completed, they felt the urge for bloodthirst.

They were draped in the same scarlet power armor as those bloodthirsty monsters, possessed the same names as those bloodthirsty monsters, and their spirits were shaped the same as those bloodthirsty monsters.

They were transformed into those bloodthirsty monsters that slaughtered them.

They were the Ninth Legion, base ghouls; they gnawed on the corpses of their fallen comrades and seized the blood of their enemies.

They were elevated from mutants and then shaped by the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang into scarlet, base blades, bearing the cruelest and bloodiest side of the Great Crusade...

Until He returned.

Beautiful person, beautiful angel, beautiful son of gold.

His smile soothed their hearts, His sadness soothed their fate, and His whispers soothed their bloodthirsty urges.

He said they were His descendants, He would save them, He would reshape them.

They were not mutants, not ghouls; they were noble angels.

He brought art, brought poetry, painting, forging, sculpture... using these beautiful things to reshape their minds, helping them suppress the scarlet hunger in their hearts.

This seemed to be quite effective; they broke away from the abyss of ghouls bit by bit, and their reputation was also changing; they were angels in the mouths of the common people of the Empire, and they tasted honor they had never had before.

But... did they really turn from ghouls into angels?

In those deep, silent nights, they would be tormented by scarlet hunger until they were restless and painful, unable to sleep.

On those most tragic battlefields, they would be awakened by the anger of those around them, and their sanity would become extremely thin.

In those deserted corners, looking at the blood flowing from the corpses of comrades or enemies on the ground, their throats would become tight.

Whenever that happened, they would be terrified, more terrified than ever before.

They feared turning back into their former selves, becoming that twisted ghoul, and tarnishing the glory they now had on them.

They feared even more failing the father's expectations, failing the pity of the son of gold, failing that beautiful person.

Father, son of gold, beautiful person.

You were wrong; no matter how you pity us now,

our flesh is ultimately that of ghouls, our blood is ultimately the blood of mutants, and our fate is ultimately blood.

Those pains, unwillingness, struggles, eventually turned into naked anger burning at the moment death arrived.

Toward enemies, toward comrades, toward oneself, toward that King of Gold.

Hua Hua Hua Di Huang, why did you shape us into such an ugly and bloodthirsty form, and why did you give us such a beautiful genetic father?

Were you trying to control us with him? Were you trying to humiliate us with him?

Or were you even planning to shape our father into a ghoul as well?

It was just that the turbulence of the Warp blocked your plan, saved our father, and by chance made him an angel?

This thought was the most intense of all the rages, almost naked hatred.

Burning, burning, burning, eventually chosen by the Blood God, shaped into the Red Angel.

The Red Angel was the anger of all the descendants of Sanguinius, the original form planned by the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang for Sanguinius.

A bloodthirsty monster more bloodthirsty, more angry, and more crazy than anyone else.

King of Gold, we hate you.

Son of Gold, we... we... we...

Abaddon and Fulgrim retreated almost simultaneously, distancing themselves from the Red Angel.

All the anger of Sanguinius accumulated in the Warp over ten thousand years was released at this very moment, directly turning into scarlet fire that ignited the Red Angel and also ignited and swallowed everything around.

Blood boiled and evaporated, marble buildings disintegrated in the blink of an eye, turning into ashes and disappearing with the wind.

Raging fire roared, and vaguely, thousands of ghouls could be seen wailing, pouncing toward Abaddon and Fulgrim.