Chapter 464: The Exiled

Meanwhile, Queek, who carried the last hopes of the big boss Genuoduoer, was stumbling as he fled through the tunnels. As a genius of the Grey Seer Clan, he had never been in such a sorry state in his short rat life.

"Huff! Huff! Squeak!"

Spellcasters often lacked physical training, and Queek, not being good at running, was forced to lean on his staff and shove Warpstone into his mouth for a boost after drilling through two alleys. Considering the great terror behind him had a massive body, he drilled into the narrowest places he could find for safety, not even daring to sit in his palanquin.

"Kelitesilike, that, that old geezer? No, impossible! This is a task assigned by the Great Horned Rat himself; he, he wouldn't dare to mess with it even if he had the guts of a god!"

After catching his breath, the Grey Seer fell into self-doubt again. He couldn't figure out for the life of him where the problem had arisen. He had verified the summoning token given by the Grey Claw High Priest through various means; the aura of the Great Horned Rat was not something a mortal could fake.

"Bang!"

"Squeak-squeak!"

"Retreat! Clan Mors, Clan Mors is finished!"

Feeling the barrier he had generated by urgently reversing the summoning array collapse at a single touch, and hearing the faint, miserable cries, Queek knew he had to speed up his escape. Having caused such a disaster, if Clan Mors ended up winning, his trouble would be even greater!

As he ran, Queek looked at the shaken albino Stormvermin guard beside him and calculated in his heart. For now, he still had to rely on them for protection to rush out of the Badlands, but once back in the Old World, all the surviving lucky ones would have to die so that he, the wise Councilor Queek, could feel at ease!

"Bang! Bang!"

On the ground, Sinuoli dodged the debris falling from the Gorkamorka Colossus and gradually approached it. Transcendent power was the most efficient way to counter transcendent power. Seizing the kill on this big guy should be enough to advance his experience bar, which had been stagnant for a long time.

"Such a thick stench of blood! Could something else be going wrong?"

Before he could even make a move, Sinuoli suddenly felt as if needles were pricking his back. He turned his head abruptly, only to see a behemoth wrapped in tangible red-black baleful energy rushing out from the mirror-like lake of the Silver Abyss!

"You fiend! You dare to come out and commit evil even after being wounded like this? Do you really think my Qunshan has no one? I am the second disciple under the God of Armaments, Aoji-Duanzhi of Norsca! State your name at once!"

In the army formation, the right flank closest to the lake shore was under the charge of Master Aoji. He stood on the Doom Anvil and stared, his heart filled with joy—the visitor was clearly a Bloodthirster, but it looked truly miserable.

The horn on the right side of its head was broken, the right side of its cheek was torn, and the white skull was exposed. Even more ridiculous were its wings—the wing membranes were riddled with holes, barely fixed to the skeleton with iron chains.

No glory in this world was greater than banishing a Greater Daemon under the Four Gods. Every feat of slaying a daemon was direct proof of strength and would be widely sung by all Order races.

According to past experience, a peak mortal was enough to defeat an ordinary Greater Daemon weakened by the Great Vortex one-on-one, but such level daemons usually appeared in the world through a Chaos Rift and were accompanied by elite daemon armies.

Although the Northern Four Cities were on the edge of the Chaos Wastes, Master Aoji had not seen many Greater Daemons. In his mind, the one before him, being beaten into such a state, was clearly at the bottom of the barrel in the Warp, and daring to charge at him and his tens of thousands of troops alone—wasn't that just a merit delivered to his doorstep?

"Crawl-thing! Die!"

The Rune Master's challenge drew the side-glance of the Greater Daemon. It opened its bloody maw, and the three words that burst out seemed to condense all the anger and hatred in this world, gathering into a destructive, furious roar. Without preparation, the mere aftershock caused many soldiers on both sides of the battle to collapse with muffled groans.

"Senior Brother, watch out!"

Sinuoli roared. As the primary target, the four bearers of Master Aoji's seat were already bleeding from their seven orifices, dead but still standing, while he himself was stunned and rooted to the spot.

"Whoosh!"

The Greater Daemon threw the battle axe in its right hand, which flew straight over like a blood-colored meteor. The Amulet that Master Aoji relied on for his fame triggered repeatedly, forming layers of barriers that shattered one by one, until finally, the small Kelage divine statue he carried lit up with radiance.

"Crunch-crunch!"

The blade of that battle axe was a row of white fangs; it seemed to squirm with life, crazily gnawing at the life-saving item Kelage had bestowed upon his disciple. In an instant, the layer of light was ground until it was almost transparent.

"Slaughter!"

"You want to hurt someone right in front of me?"

Having failed to achieve his goal with one axe, the Greater Daemon seemed to have gained some interest. It lightly raised its hand to recall the exhausted right axe, and then the left axe came for Master Aoji again. Sinuoli dared not sit idly by; he locked onto the axe and greeted it with a Storm Hammer.

"Clang!"

"Boom-boom!"

The hammer and axe collided in the air, seemingly slow but actually fast. The trajectory of the battle axe shifted, and Sidemunier's divine hammer flew back spinning. Sinuoli raised his hand to catch it, but the massive recoil made him, who hadn't activated Avatar of the Gods, retreat several steps before steadying himself.

"It seems you are the Dwarf I am looking for? Someone told me your head would be a fine thing to adorn the Skull Throne! This is your supreme honor!"

With the killing blow failed, the Bloodthirster turned to look at the path of the flying hammer. Upon meeting its gaze, Sinuoli felt a bone-chilling cold. How much slaughter must one have committed across the heavens and myriad worlds to possess such an aura!

"I am the Spinecrusher, the Skulltaker, the Blood-Quencher! I am violence! I am war! I am resentment! I am the incarnation of fury! I am Skarbrand, the Exiled!"

The Greater Daemon reported its titles as it stepped forward, its momentum increasing with every step. After eight steps, its true name, enough to make the starry sky tremble, manifested, and its momentum climbed to its peak.

"The Exiled—Skarbrand!"

The two warring sides, struck by its monstrous ferocity, unanimously cleared a path leading straight to Sinuoli. Sinuoli heard its true name clearly among those old nicknames, and then blurted out its most widely circulated title today.

In tens of thousands of years, no daemon had offered more heads to the Skull Throne than Skarbrand. It had destroyed the first circle of the Slaanesh Realm, slaughtered Nurgle's greatest Plague Leviathan, and had even fought the coalition of the three gods until they scattered.

"Since you know my name, why not offer your head?"

To completely enrage this former greatest Greater Daemon under Khorne, this simplest of phrases was enough. After that treacherous and deceitful betrayal, all former glory had become a whip lashing against its own body.

"Offer my head? Do you think I don't have legs!"

Sinuoli spat, activated Avatar of the Gods, and dove under the feet of the Gorkamorka Colossus. Skarbrand might not be at the peak of its prowess, but it was still not something that could be easily contended with. Since it was clearly coming for him, why not let the Greenskin army before him help share some of its fury?