"Why is this happening?!"
Lord Zaan of the Bloodskull Warband painstakingly opened his eyes, gazing at the towering figure approaching him, a figure as majestic as a mountain. His heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible force, air slowly being forced from his lungs, a suffocating sensation engulfing him. The shadow of death that followed was like a sharp blade pressed against his brow!
The entire banquet hall was once again filled with blood.
However, this time it was the blasphemous and defiled blood of Chaos Space Marines!
They had been tricked!
The intelligence was wrong; not only was there an over-strength Space Marine Chapter in the Avacalor hive city, but there was even a 'Primarch'!
Initially, he didn't even consider the Primarch a threat, thinking that with several hundred Chaos Space Marines on his side and only one opponent, they could wear him down to death!
But very quickly, Zaan realized a very cruel reality.
There was a reason why Primarchs could be given the title of 'God' and were active as Legion Masters during the Great Crusade era—for example, this one before him, the legendary Sir of the First Legion, who, with just a sword in his hand, had slaughtered over a hundred Chaos Space Marines as if cutting melons and vegetables!
Throughout the entire process, he didn't even break a sweat.
It was as if the hundreds of Chaos Space Marines who died by his sword were merely an afterthought.
By the time Zaan realized something was wrong and tried to break out, he found it was too late. Unbeknownst to him, hundreds of Space Marines and several hundred Battle sisters had appeared in the banquet hall, completely blocking their retreat!
What awaited them next was a complete slaughter, with no resistance!
Zaan couldn't understand how his proud Bloodskull Warband had become 'cheese' that shattered upon impact in front of these black-armored Space Marines?!
They were not on the same level at all—
In just a few tens of minutes, his Bloodskull Warband had been easily crushed by these cold-blooded guys, like a chariot!
By this point, even if Zaan was foolish, he realized they had been tricked!
"Who—who exactly are you?!"
Zaan's face contorted, his eyes bloodshot as he stared at these black-armored Space Marines who had crushed his painstakingly assembled Bloodskull Warband.
"Sons of the Forest."
The leading Space Marine grabbed his head and, like dragging a dead dog, walked towards the towering figure, then knelt on one knee.
"Lion, mission accomplished. As you commanded, we left one alive."
"Hmm."
The Lion sat imperiously on the steps, not even lifting an eyelid, wiping the viscous filth from his blade, and said indifferently.
"Wait for that kid to handle it. He has many tricks up his sleeve and deliberately set up such a big game; it shouldn't just be for these wastes."
His words were filled with deep disdain.
The fact was, after learning of Emrys' plan, the Lion was a bit disdainful.
Did a mere Chaos Warband really require his personal intervention?
But Emrys, for the sake of caution, hoped he would personally oversee it, and that's how Zaan's current predicament came to be.
Before long, Emrys arrived at the banquet hall.
"How did he end up like this?"
Emrys was a bit surprised, glancing at the Lord of this Chaos Warband. Half of his facial bones were shattered, his features almost squeezed together, making him look quite comically grotesque.
"I remember Khorne's appetite wasn't that heavy; how can his followers be so ugly?"
Khorne's followers might not look great, but they weren't this ugly!
Upon hearing this, the suppressed Zaan's entire face twisted with rage, his eyes seemingly spitting fire as he glared at him, opening his mouth to curse, but a slap landed first!
"Slap!"
Zaan, whose mouth was already crooked and eyes askew, received this slap, making his facial features even more distorted.
The one who slapped him was, of course, Krast.
Before Zaan could recover, another punch landed on his face!
"Crack!"
Bones shattered, and Zaan became even uglier.
Krast turned to look at Zabriel, who had just thrown a punch, a hint of a smile in his eyes, as if saying.
"Kid, you're slow again!"
Zabriel gritted his teeth, glaring angrily at Zaan. He had finally found a chance to make an impression, but this old guy had beaten him to it again!
The Knight chuckled internally, then respectfully explained to Emrys.
"Lord, it's because he overestimated himself and challenged lord Lion to a duel, then took a slap, which made him look like this."
Oh, no wonder—he deserved it.
Even Lan, fresh from waking up, could tear apart dozens of Chaos Terminators with his bare hands, let alone the Lion?
If it weren't for Emrys' prior instruction to definitely leave one alive, the Lion would have probably slapped his head off long ago; how could he still be breathing?
Knowing the whole story, Emrys suddenly understood, then asked with concern.
"What about you all? Were there any casualties?"
"Please rest assured, lord, we suffered no casualties."
Krast said honestly.
"Hmph."
The Lion, wiping his sword, couldn't help but let out two streams of air from his nose and snorted coldly.
"You underestimate them too much. If such wastes could cause them casualties, it would only prove that they are unworthy of being a Dark Angel!"
"Still so tsundere" Emrys muttered inwardly. Krast nodded, and though his tone was calm, a hint of pride was still discernible.
"Lord, lord Lion is right. These wastes are not worthy of causing us casualties."
This was by no means boasting, but a fact!
Those who could follow the Lion and become part of the Angels of the Blade were all elites forged on the most brutal battlefields!
After all, the most difficult battle for the Dark Angels when they were first formed was against the Thunder Warriors, created by the Emperor himself for war!
And Krast, along with many members of the Angels of the Blade now labeled as 'Fallen Angels,' were survivors of that very campaign.
"Lord, what should we do with him?"
Krast finished reminiscing, his gaze turning to Emrys, asking.
"Lion, would you like to go for a walk?"
Emrys' eyes were strange, drifting towards the Lion who was still cleaning his sword, and he asked meaningfully.
"Hmm?"
The Lion raised an eyebrow.
"Walk where?"
"To the Chaos Fleet, of course." Emrys' gaze shifted to Lord Zaan, who was still being restrained by Krast.
"I can use his soul to reverse-locate the Chaos Fleet's coordinates and open a direct portal into the fleet. I just don't know if the Lion is interested in coming with me?"
Zaan's pupils constricted sharply. Just as he was about to struggle, he took a few more slaps to the face, leaving his head dazed.
"Is this your plan?"
The Lion showed some interest, giving him a deep look.
"It's very bold, and very risky. Do you know that venturing deep into the Chaos Fleet might mean never returning? Even if I am a Primarch, I can't guarantee your safety!"
"Of course, I know the risks involved."
Emrys' lips curled slightly, revealing a twisted, yet somewhat maniacal smile.
"But it's undeniable that the rewards of this plan are very high. The bigger the storm, the more expensive the fish, isn't that right?"
Looking at him like this, the Lion's brow furrowed slightly, a hint of worry in his eyes—sure enough, there was still an influence.
Was this also within 'his' expectations?
But very quickly, this hint of worry was well-concealed by the Lion.
"Alright, then we'll do as you say."
Just as Emrys said, this plan was very risky, but the rewards were equally high!
If successful, it could not only quickly defeat the Chaos Fleet besieging Avacalor but also preserve the Imperial Fleet's strength while minimizing damage as much as possible!
The situation at the Rock Fortress was still unclear; they had to resolve the problem here as soon as possible!