Fulgrim did not answer the question posed by the Slaanesh Daemon before him, but he soon realized that the entity was not just any Daemon but a Daemon Prince—Azazel.
Azazel's tale is legendary in the mortal realm, and even today, in the Chaos Wastes, there stands a Chaos rune stone detailing his ascension to Daemonhood.
Azazel was once the brother-in-law of the Empire's Emperor Charlemagne.
Formerly known as Galian, he was a celebrated warrior from the Carolingian tribe. Galian and his twin brother swore allegiance to Charlemagne, the chief of their tribe.
However, during a campaign against the Greenskins, Galian's twin was killed, while Galian himself was sidelined due to injuries from previous battles. Overcome with grief and rage at the news of his brother's death, and feeling betrayed by Charlemagne's decision to exclude him, Galian vowed revenge. Guided by a witch's prophecy, he feigned forgiveness and loyalty to Charlemagne, quickly rising to become a prominent squire among the Carolingian knights due to his unparalleled swordsmanship.
Galian found himself repeatedly torn between his oath of vengeance and the inspiring vision of Charlemagne's great empire. He questioned his path, wondering if he should continue his quest for retribution. But the insidious corruption of Chaos had already taken root in his heart. When his sister decided to marry Charlemagne, the rage he had suppressed finally erupted. During their wedding, he stabbed Charlemagne in the chest, nearly killing the future Emperor.
Galian fled north in a frenzy, eventually reaching the Chaos Wastes. The Dark Gods, pleased with his performance, welcomed him. The Prince of Pleasure, Slaanesh, gave him a new name—Azazel—and elevated him to Daemonhood. He now serves as the supreme commander of Slaanesh's armies.
"No answer? No matter," Azazel said, his tongue, adorned with six silver rings, flicking out. His bovine face lit up with manic joy. "Ah, you're so beautiful. I'll peel the skin from your face to make the finest leather pouch. I'll hack off your hair and weave it into a perfect war banner."
Azazel trembled with excitement, nearly delirious. "Oh, this duel is too exhilarating! I can hardly stand it! Oh oh oh~!"
Fulgrim's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching at the thought that he had once been among these lunatics.
Strangely, this Daemon Prince of Slaanesh did not recognize him. Fulgrim concluded that some force was obscuring his true identity from the Daemon.
"Then let's fight!"
Fulgrim's golden power sword, Honor, whirled into motion, striking towards Azazel with lightning speed.
Azazel's expression grew serious. The Daemon Prince opened his jaws and spewed a thick purple mist, a demonic perfume potent enough to drive any mortal mad in an instant. Armed with a claw and a serpentine blade, Azazel showed his true power. The human before him would soon join his countless victims.
In a flash of gold, Fulgrim sliced through the purple mist, leaving Azazel stunned. With eyes blazing in anger, the Primarch shattered Azazel's defenses. Their weapons clashed, and sparks flew along Azazel's claw, carving a deep, bone-revealing gash in his arm.
"Ahhh!" Azazel howled in pain and fury. The Daemon Prince of Slaanesh was incensed. "You've marred my flawless, alabaster skin! You'll pay for this!"
"Hypocrite!" Fulgrim muttered.
Gold clashed with purple in a violent dance of power.
Meanwhile, the Ashen Legion was fighting with all its might against the Chaos Daemons. The human soldiers, inspired by their commander's battle with the Slaanesh Daemon, fought with renewed fervor. The promised rewards from the Lizardmen spurred them on to madness. Under Vice-Captain Fernando Palazzo's orders, they formed tight lines, repelling the Daemonic onslaught.
In single combat, each Daemon could easily slay multiple human soldiers. But when the soldiers banded together, even the Daemons struggled to take their lives. Tight shield and spear formations stood ready to face the enemy. The first wave of Khorne and Slaanesh vanguards found themselves surrounded in an instant.
Ordinary swords and pikes couldn't pierce the Daemons' hides. Instead, the Ashen Legion soldiers used their weapons to restrain the Daemons, calling for the Knights and Greatswords. Only the finely crafted knightly swords and two-handed greatswords, powered by skilled warriors, could slay the Daemons. When a Khorne Bloodletter charged into their ranks, a well-aimed cannon shot from the Tyrell Engineers blew its arm off.
Across the hundred-meter-long battlefront, human and Daemonic figures clashed in brutal combat. Facing annihilation, the humans summoned unimaginable courage. Shields shattered under Daemonic swords and axes, and pikes failed to penetrate Daemonic armor. Soldiers threw themselves at the Daemons, calling out the names of their gods and the name of their commander above all.
"For the Commander! For the Ashen Legion!"
"For the New World!"
The battle cries grew louder. Frustrated by the human resistance, the Daemons responded. At Khornath's command, a squad of Khorne Juggernaut Riders charged.
"Hold the line! Form ranks, dense formations! Hold!" Vice-Captain Palazzo shouted, his voice hoarse. "The enemy is coming!"
Palazzo's warning saved many lives, but the humans remained fragile before the Chaos Daemons. Despite their preparations, the Khorne Juggernauts tore through the Ashen Legion's lines like cannonballs. The powerful Juggernauts smashed through shields and pikes, slaughtering with axes, spears, and even fists. Blood and carnage covered the battlefield as the Tzeentch Chariots and Slaanesh Daemonettes followed, wave after wave of relentless assault.
Tzeentch's Burning Chariots bore the Changer of Ways' sigil, blazing with blue flames. High-ranking Tzeentch Flamers on the chariots spewed searing fire, while lower-ranking Flamers controlled the Discs of Tzeentch, pulled by Screamer Beasts. Each disk, adorned with teeth and eyes, left twisted skeletons of human soldiers in its wake.
The Daemonettes of Slaanesh joyfully leapt among the human ranks, hunting down isolated soldiers. They relished the dying breaths and cries of despair from the mortals, finding nothing more delightful than this feast for their twisted souls.
The lines wavered and broke repeatedly. Defeat for the Ashen Legion seemed inevitable, but the human soldiers refused to surrender. Under the loud commands of the Tyrell Engineers, the musket regiments hastily prepared for a volley. The captains and lieutenants ordered the musketeers to take careful aim; there would be no time to reload.
"Boom~ Boom boom boom boom~" The musket volley roared like thunder, the bullets striking Daemonic armor with a crack. The barrage yielded immediate results. Over thirty Khorne Juggernauts, five Tzeentch Chariots, and twenty Slaanesh Daemonettes were reduced to shredded, banished forms.
The advance of the Chaos Daemons was momentarily slowed, but more poured in. The whispering of the Dark Gods filled the soldiers' minds, mocking their futility and urging them to embrace the dark. The voices grew louder and more chaotic.
Near the human lines, the Lizardmen forces were also faltering. Despite their immense sacrifices, they could not halt the Daemonic tide. The front was being pushed back toward the Great Pyramid, with collapse threatening on all sides. A young fifth-generation Slann was dragged from his golden throne and hacked to pieces by the Daemons.
Only around Mazda-Mudi did the battle fare slightly better. The greatest living Slann Mage-Priest wielded the power of the Sun God, Poteekh, repelling the Chaos corruption with blinding sunlight. Mazda-Mudi's spells turned hundreds of Daemons to ash with a mere gesture, causing the earth to quake. Three massive rifts opened under the lumbering Nurgle forces, swallowing them whole. As the Chaos legions clashed with Mazda-Mudi's Temple Guard, the "Sun Honor Guard," the Slann conjured gigantic, hundred-meter-high scythes of flame that swept across the ground, annihilating every foe in their path.
Warlord Kroq-Gar, atop his fearsome Carnosaur Grimlock, carved a swath through the Daemonic horde. Each step of the mighty beast shook the ground, its fangs tearing through Daemon flesh. Kroq-Gar's relentless assault broke the Daemon ranks, and no creature could stand against his fury.
Even Nurgle's Greater Daemon, Rottigus, was no match.
From afar, Kroq-Gar spotted Rottigus, an immense, putrid mass of rotting flesh, clearly targeting him. The stench was overpowering, but Kroq-Gar could see the Daemon's plan—to draw him into a protracted battle. If the Temple Guard, Cold One Riders, and Stegadons got bogged down in a slog with the Nurgle forces, the main Lizardmen lines would crumble before the Chaos onslaught.
Kroq-Gar decided to strike. With a lightning-fast leap from Grimlock, he lunged at Rottigus, the Spear of Tlanxla aimed at the Daemon's bloated belly. In one breath, Rottigus' rusted plague-ridden blade swung through the toxic air, but it struck only empty space. Kroq-Gar had already driven his spear into the Daemon's gut, twisting it savagely.
"Heh… Hehehehe… Foolish reptile, the Grandfather grants me eternal life. Your wound will heal within a day," Rottigus laughed, its sluggish movements no match for the agile Warlord. Despite its attempts to counter, the Spear of Tlanxla repeatedly pierced the Daemon's flesh, but Rottigus only chuckled, mouth agape in mocking laughter.
Rottigus had made a grave mistake. As the Nurgle Daemon opened its mouth to laugh, Kroq-Gar's left hand, bearing the Hand of the Gods, ignited. This ancient artifact, crafted by the Old Ones themselves, radiated the purest essence of the cosmos.
Seizing the moment, Kroq-Gar leapt higher, using the spear for leverage. Just as Rottigus' laughter rang out, the Hand of the Gods plunged into its gaping maw.
The laughter ceased abruptly.
In the midst of the battlefield, the sound of an explosion, like a bomb going off in a swamp, echoed through the chaos at the Starlight Bridge.
The Hand of the Gods activated, and Rottigus' head exploded like a watermelon.
Kroq-Gar roared in triumph, proclaiming his victory. With a crushing grip, he smashed Rottigus' eyeballs into burning cinders within the divine white flames of the Hand of the Gods.
With Rottigus' collapse, the connection between the mortal realm and the Warp began to destabilize. The fissures opened by the Dark Gods wavered. The Nurgle Daemon legions started to disintegrate. Most of the Daemons vanished in an instant, while the remaining high-ranking Nurgle Daemons struggled to maintain their presence.
"Ahhh!" A pained scream from the steps of the Great Pyramid drew the attention of the entire battlefield.
Fulgrim was withdrawing his power sword, Honor, from the chest of Azazel. The once-arrogant Daemon Prince was now covered in wounds, leaking purple blood, and slowly collapsing. Azazel struggled, gasping for breath, trying to speak.
Fulgrim did not give him the chance. With a swift motion, he beheaded Azazel.
A Daemon Prince of Slaanesh, slain and banished.
The fall of Azazel sent shockwaves through the Chaos legions. With two critical nodes lost, the Winds of Chaos grew unstable. The passage between the mortal world and the Warp began to break apart, and the Daemons' connection to their chaotic energy flickered.
"Now… is the time!" Mazda-Mudi finally moved into action. At his command, the remaining dozen Slann raised their hands.
Their combined presence formed a precise grid of ordered light points.
After thousands of years, the pyramids of Itza were activated once more. Hundreds of energy beams, guided by Mazda-Mudi, shot into the sky, channeling the cosmic power of the Old Ones.
The Slanns poured their full might into a brilliant, pure white beam that pierced through the darkened sky, striking at the rifts between the Warp and the mortal realm.
This was a monumental clash. At the Starlight Bridge, the servants of the Old Ones used all their strength to fight for their survival and protect their legacy.
After an incredible expenditure of magical energy, the rifts were sealed. In an instant, all the Chaos Daemons turned to ash. The immense magical effort left all but Mazda-Mudi among the Slanns unconscious.
But there was no time for the Lizardmen and human allies to breathe. Dozens of warp lightning cannons fired from the forest, accompanied by plague-laden shells that exploded around the Great Pyramid. The toxic projectiles from the distant Plagueclaw Catapults began to ignite.
Ancient stone monuments started to smolder upon contact with the vile substances. Even the hardest stones began to dissolve and evaporate into a nauseating green mist as the plague mixture bubbled upon them.
Anyone—human or Lizardman—touched by the toxic fumes dissolved into puddles of sludge within seconds.
Leading the charge, Lord Skurrk wielded his Plague Censer, guiding the ocean of Plague Monks onto the battlefield. The toxic fumes made the monks increasingly agitated and excited. Waves upon waves of Skaven now covered every road leading to the Great Pyramid. From above, it would look like a tidal wave of rats sweeping over the city.
Hundreds of banners and totems rose above the sea of plague. The filthy runes of warpstone brought blessings to every Skaven warrior on the battlefield.
"Yesyes! Victory in the Great Holy War is within our grasp!"
"Froggy thing, die-die!"
As the Skaven surged forward, the defenders at the Great Pyramid, weakened but resolute, braced themselves for the next wave of horror.
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