"Ah???"
Emrys' eyelids twitched wildly at the words.
He seriously suspected he had misheard; the Emperor actually wanted him to relight the extinguished "Astronomican"?
"Are—are you serious?" He twitched the corner of his mouth. The Emperor couldn't possibly want him to sit on the Golden Throne for a few days in his place, could he?
Though he was loyal, for this matter—Emrys felt it would be better to find someone else. It wasn't a question of loyalty.
"I'm not asking you to replace me."
The Emperor's eyes seemed to possess the magical ability to see through hearts, instantly perceiving Emrys' thoughts. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and say, "Even if I were looking for a stand-in, what good would your meager power do sitting on it?"
Although the Emperor spoke quite bluntly, Emrys didn't feel offended in the slightest; in fact, he was rather pleased.
The Golden Throne? Whoever wants to go, let them go!
One must know that even Macarius, the Regent, hailed as second only to the Lord of Mankind, surpassing the "Alpharius" level, the most powerful psyker, wasn't he also drained into a skeleton after sitting on it?
With his small physique, let alone sitting on it, he'd probably be sucked dry just by touching the 'Golden Throne'.
Even the 'Sorrowful One', who was most adept at torture, upon seeing the Golden Throne, his first words were, 'Where did you find such a powerful 'torture device'? This is simply the most creative and terrifying torture device he had ever seen.'
It was clear, then, what kind of object the Golden Throne truly was, despite being called a "Throne."
He'd rather die than sit on it.
But while he breathed a sigh of relief, an even greater question entanglement (entwined) in Emrys' mind.
"Since you're not asking me to replace you on the 'Golden Throne', then how am I supposed to relight the 'Astronomican'?"
The light of the Astronomican relied entirely on the operation of the Golden Throne and the Emperor himself, sitting upon it, continuously burning his psychic energy.
It could be said that if the Emperor hadn't been sitting on the 'Golden Throne' to suppress the Warp rift below and sacrifice himself to ignite the Astronomican, the Imperium of Man would have perished tens of thousands of times over by now. How could it have lingered on until today?
But if it wasn't by sitting on the Golden Throne, Emrys wasn't sure how to maintain the 'Astronomican'.
"Don't worry, someone will find you soon and tell you how to do it."
The Emperor did not elaborate.
Though Emrys was full of doubts, he could only choose to trust the Emperor.
Rumble! The peak of the snowy mountain vibrated violently.
The sky, originally shrouded in clouds, was suddenly stained with a rich crimson. In the distance, one could even vaguely discern a terrifying figure approaching with boundless fury, the colossal phantom of an axe blade flickering in and out of the bloody clouds, as if rending heaven and earth!
"I must leave."
The Emperor frowned, about to say something more, but was interrupted by the crimson axe blade's phantom, a hint of annoyance flashing in his eyes.
"Don't forget where you came from."
The Emperor raised his hand, placed it on Emrys' shoulder, pressed down slightly, and then turned to step towards the mountain peak.
That terrifying crimson phantom seemed to be blocked by some force, unable to penetrate deeper. Golden light once again enveloped the Emperor, and he ascended an invisible staircase, step by step, towards the crimson phantom.
Suddenly.
The Emperor's ascent halted. He remained with his back to Emrys, but his head turned, fixing him with an extremely eerie gaze. His tone was human yet not human, as if containing some authority beyond order and rules, and he spoke, word by word.
"Emrys, do you think I am more like a human—or more like a god?"
Holy crap, he's really become a spirit?!
For a moment, Emrys' hair stood on end.
This wasn't to say that the 'Emperor's' sudden question was like the stories of weasels "Seeking recognition" he had heard in his previous life, but rather—he could clearly feel that the Emperor no longer seemed to be the 'Emperor'!
In the 'Emperor's' eyes, there seemed to be a cold, dark, chilling will flowing, and his voice became deeper, as if he had become a different person.
Emrys was so shaken by this bizarre question that his thoughts became chaotic, and he stood frozen for a moment.
"Tell me, am I more like a human, or more like a god?"
This time, the Emperor's tone was clearly tinged with another personality, as if containing an inscrutable darkness, making his soul seep with unspeakable fear, a bone-chilling cold like maggots!
The cold of the snowy mountain was far less than that of the 'Emperor'.
Under the invisible pressure, Emrys' teeth chattered, his pupils constricted to pinpricks, and cold sweat poured down relentlessly. Although he didn't know what 'madness' the 'Emperor' was exhibiting, he was very clearly aware of the "Taboo" of this question!
Absolutely! Absolutely! Absolutely not!
Speak the second, forbidden word!
"Like—a human!"
"Ah—"
The deep, dark will in the Emperor's eyes receded.
But, whether it was an illusion or not, Emrys always felt as if he had glimpsed a trace of—annoyance and coldness from those eyes.
The Emperor's figure vanished into the sky.
The 'Emperor' just now—no, to be precise, he wasn't the Emperor at all, nor was he the 'Lord of Mankind' who carried humanity's hope. Instead, he was the last 'puzzle piece' of the Warp, the Chaos God of destruction—Malal!
Emrys swallowed hard.
In the bone-deep fear, he felt his consciousness being peeled away, slowly withdrawing from the 'dream'.
The golden sword, imbued with the pure will of the Lord of Mankind, suddenly stopped before the brow of the Daemon Primarch Angron. Hot, scorching golden flames seared his contorted forehead.
Time, flowing, seemed to be paused.
Amidst the rising, blazing golden flames, that figure, like an ancient star, cast down a gaze and let out a soft sigh.
Boundless regret and desolation, carried by this sigh, made every Dark Angel feel as if they shared the sentiment, experiencing the extremely complex emotions of this 'Lord of Mankind'.
Thereafter, the figure enveloped in golden flames, along with the sword, shattered inch by inch, like a candle flame extinguished by a fierce wind, dispersing into the ruined hall.
Emrys, who had been suspended in mid-air, surrounded by golden flames, also seemed to lose his strength. The light in his eyes faded, and he slowly descended to the ground.
"This is—"
Emrys, his sanity restored, beads of cold sweat trickling down his forehead, knelt on the ground. Yet, for a long time, he couldn't disengage from the strange vision that had enveloped his mind.
Even though the 'Emperor' had departed, and Emrys had awakened from the dream.
But once he recalled those emotionless eyes, filled with profound darkness, he couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat, his heart gripped by fear.
Thank goodness! Thank goodness!
He couldn't imagine what terrifying thing would have happened if he had chosen the second option at that moment!
A awakened Emperor?
No, if such a day truly came, then the awakened one would no longer be the 'Lord of Mankind', nor would he be the 'Emperor', but rather the Chaos God—Malal, bearing the name of 'Destruction'!
Cold, trembling.
Then came a violent earthquake. Avkar was jolted awake, large amounts of dust mixed with rubble directly hitting his face, even his mouth was filled with coarse soil mixed with a strong smell of blood.
He groggily opened his eyes, only for an explosive shell to whiz past his nose, embedding itself in a wall riddled with countless bullet holes, nearly scaring the soul out of him and instantly waking him up.
What the hell happened?!
His brain was still in 'boot-up' mode, his memory stuck on when he was still in the ruins of the Blood Palace, confronting the Daemon Primarch Angron.
How did he end up here the moment he opened his eyes?
Whoosh whoosh whoosh—!!!
At this moment, several piercing shrieks suddenly came from above. Shells, dragging air currents, accurately landed not far away.
Boom!
The airwave generated by the explosion hit Avkar's chest like a heavy hammer. The dull sensation made him dizzy and nauseous.
This is truly hellish!
Waking up only to find the battle still raging!
Is this Warhammer?!
Avkar exhaled a breath of stale air, quickly glancing around to assess the situation.
He found himself in a very crude defensive fortification, with only two broken walls for protection. Outside, surrounding the fortification, were a dozen crisscrossing trenches. On the front line, several towering Dreadnoughts acted as mobile artillery, relentlessly unleashing firepower into the distance.
What happened?
Why am I here?
Avkar, dazed by the shelling, his mind a blank, his memory still in the Daemonforged Palace. How did he open his eyes and end up here?!
"You're awake?"
A hoarse voice came.
Avkar turned his head and saw Ezekiel, the Chief Librarian of the Dark Angels Chapter.
He was also huddled in the crude fortification, his helmet removed. His power armor was extensively damaged, revealing bloody wounds, through which one could even glimpse torn flesh and stark white bones. He coughed occasionally, spitting out fragments of internal organs.
His second heart was completely pierced by a sword-shaped wound, and the organs inside had entirely stopped beating.
It was hard to imagine what kind of brutal battle could have inflicted such severe injuries on the Chief Librarian.
Even for a Space Marine, such wounds could be considered very serious.
"Cough cough—"
Ezekiel spat out another mouthful of blood, a hint of death in his eyes. He watched him dimly, forcing a smile at the corner of his mouth.
"Good, at least—we held on until you woke up."
"What happened?"
Avkar's mood was inexplicably heavy.
"You don't remember what happened?" Ezekiel looked at him strangely.
"I—I'm not very clear," Avkar's only clear memory was meeting the 'Yellow Weasel seeking apotheosis' in a dream. As for what happened after that, he didn't know.
"Alright," Ezekiel said thoughtfully, clutching the penetrating wound on his chest, and managed to speak.
"You've been unconscious for two full days. This is a position on the northwest side of the Daemonforged Palace."
Every word he spoke, the wound would pull on the surrounding muscles. Even a Space Marine would inevitably be affected, causing his speech to be intermittent.
But Avkar still pieced together the full story from Ezekiel's fragmented descriptions.
It turned out that although he had woken up from the 'dream,' due to the Emperor's will descending and using this body,
coupled with the almost continuous overexertion of psychic powers, the side effects surged up all at once, leaving him no time to speak before he rolled his eyes and fell into a deep coma.
The situation at the time was that, for unknown reasons, the Emperor suddenly sighed and then gave up on killing the Daemon Primarch Angron.
The six Heroes of the Dark Angels Chapter were almost all severely wounded, and the Sons of the Forest also suffered heavy losses.
However, on the Chaos side, despite losing their most crucial combat power, there was still an endless stream of daemon armies pouring out of the Warp rifts. So, Supreme grandmaster Azrael ordered everyone to carry the wounded and, seizing the opportunity while the Daemon Primarch was not fully recovered from his injuries, to gather all their strength and break through the encirclement.
Although the Deathwing and Sons of the Forest of the Dark Angels worked together and fought with all their might to break out of the encirclement.
Khorne's daemon legions, however, were relentless and unwilling to let them escape so easily. They gathered a large number of daemons and world Eaters, pursuing them relentlessly through hundreds of battles. Eventually, the Dark Angels and Sons of the Forest were exhausted and surrounded by daemon legions pouring in from all directions, trapped within this crude defensive fortification.
By now, the Dark Angels and Sons of the Forest could be said to have run out of ammunition, supplies, and options.
Even the most fanatical Chaplain, Asmodai, was curled up exhausted in a trench. Supreme grandmaster Azrael, despite being severely wounded, still insisted on staying on the front line. The Ravenwing grandmaster Sammael and Aphkar, both with severed arms, guarded the other end of the defensive line, engaging in close-quarters combat with the surging Chaos daemon forces.
"For the Emperor! For Lion!"
"By the honor of the Lion's Sons, we will never allow defiling heretics to take one step here!"
Azrael cut down the head of a charging world Eater, his hoarse voice unable to hide his exhaustion and despair.
No matter how many of these damned Chaos heretics they killed, it seemed like there were always more.
After two full days of bloody battle, the ammunition carried by the Dark Angels, including the Dreadnoughts, was almost exhausted. Everyone was purely relying on their last breath of spirit and resilient willpower to fight Chaos.
But how long could such a situation last?
"You should go."
Ezekiel looked at him and said faintly, "I know you have a way to leave."
"What about you?" Avkar asked.
"Us?" Ezekiel smiled, clutching the penetrating wound on his chest, rising from the defensive works, and gazing at the distant crimson tide. His eyes were firm.
"Our end is here, our battlefield is here, to die in battle here, that is our wish!"
Fallen Angels and Dark Angels, fighting side by side again after ten thousand years.
Such a spectacle, if it were to get out, would probably astonish even the Inquisition.
Just then, a tremendous roar came from the sky.
Boom boom boom!!!
Suddenly, a thunderous roar, like muffled spring thunder, echoed above the chaotic battlefield.
For a moment, both the frenzied Khorne daemon legions and the Lion's children were drawn to the colossal sound.
Deep within the clouds, filled with sulfur and acid mist, shrouded by vast amounts of exhaust, countless blurry objects seemed to be plummeting at an extremely high speed. The intense friction between the atmosphere and the objects caused these 'small black dots' to streak across the sky like a scattered meteor shower.
Surrounded by Khorne's daemon legions, the Dark Angels, on the brink of despair, seeing this scene, immediately felt a surge of emotions.
Avkar was even more excited. Could it be that the Lion had already dealt with the enemies besieging the Rock Fortress and was now sending people to rescue them?
However, the next second.
When those tiny 'black dots' gradually pierced through the clouds, their main bodies slowly grew larger and came into view.
Regardless of whether it was Khorne's daemon legions, or the defending Dark Angels and Sons of the Forest, including Supreme grandmaster Azrael, and Avkar, almost everyone made the same expression, staring wide-eyed at the sky.
Good news, it's reinforcements.
But the bad news is, these "Reinforcements" are neither Chaos nor the Imperium, but... Orks!
Damn it!
It's Orks!
Those things looked like large and small warships cobbled together from scraps and junk, covered in spikes and skull insignia.
The eye-catching red paint job made these things visible at a glance.
The crucial point was that these seemingly dilapidated objects flew even faster than Thunderhawk gunships.
Immediately after, everyone saw that those "Dilapidated" airships, having pierced through the clouds, seemed to have discovered the chaotic battlefield below. They all executed a nearly inconceivable turn at high altitude, completely disregarding the rules of the material universe, ignoring kinetic energy and inertia.
white smoke billowed from the tails of those dilapidated airships.
Amidst the screams that tore through the air, they plunged towards their position like suicide bombers.
God damn, even the Orks have been drawn here!
Ork Orks only appear on the most chaotic and violent battlefields, seeking a super massive 'Waaagh'.
And the Iconoclast Sector, where Draconys is located, undoubtedly fits the 'Ork' standard.
Not only are there Chaos fleets, but also Dark Angels assembled in legion scale, as well as various Imperial support forces still en route. How could a battle of such a large scale be without Ork Orks?
However, it was this scene in despair that seemed like a dawn breaking through dusk, giving Emrys a flash of inspiration.
No, this was not the Dark Angels' despair at all; instead, it was a once-in-a-lifetime "Opportunity"!
"Listen, listen to me!" He grabbed Ezekiel, who was about to rush to his death, and said urgently, "This is an opportunity. The Ork Orks joining the battlefield will only make things more chaotic here. We can take advantage of the 'forest' to escape."
Ezekiel paused slightly, but then immediately understood his meaning.
Orks often look for the fiercest opponents on the battlefield, and the Khorne legion that just happened to surround them was the largest in number and strongest in power on the entire Draconys.
In other words, these Ork teams that suddenly joined the battlefield were not only not their enemies, but might even be…
…helpers?
Using the power of the Orks made Ezekiel fall into a dilemma.
Although this plan was good, it was a bit heretical, but fortunately, he did not struggle for long.
Who cares who it is?
As long as it can resist Chaos, "cooperation" is not impossible!
Ezekiel quickly used Warp psychic communication to convey this idea to the grandmaster on the front lines.
Azrael, after hesitating for less than half a second, immediately issued an order:
"All personnel, find cover nearby and conceal yourselves." He jumped into a trench, looked up at the Ork junk airships circling in the sky, and after squinting his eyes to search, said sternly, "It's that one, shoot it down for me!"
As soon as he finished speaking, a Dreadnought's heavy cannon precisely shot down the Ork junk airship in mid-air.
The Ork airship, trailing black smoke, crashed into the Chaos legion.
Well, now the Orks, who had been buzzing around like flies in mid-air, still searching for targets, immediately locked onto their target.
"I saw it!"
"It was these big red guys who shot down da' ka!"
"Ram them!"
Amidst the whirring of rotating tail fins and tattered jets, these circling Ork boys, piloting their dilapidated, junk-like airships, roared like suicide bombers and flew whistling towards the Chaos army formation.
A violent explosion, mixed with the smell of discarded engine oil and an overwhelming Impact, instantly swept across the entire battlefield, and the Chaos Terminators in the crash zone were unlucky enough to be directly crushed into meat paste!
"Waaagh!"
"Ram them to bits!"
"Here I come!!!"
With these few green-skinned Orks leading the way, more Ork boy junk airships fell like rain for a time.
"Stop them for me!" The world Eaters Tribune's forehead veins throbbed with rage as he roared angrily.
One couldn't blame him; the world Eaters were on the verge of annihilating the Dark Angels and completing the 'Blood God's' mission.
As a result, green-skinned Orks, who appeared from nowhere, made them their target. Under continuous death bombardments, the world Eaters were caught off guard and blown dizzy, giving the Dark Angels, who were on the verge of collapse, a chance to breathe.
Amidst despair, anger, and spine-chilling roars, the Chaos Hellbrutes raised their muzzles.
A dense defensive network composed of plasma cannons, destructive beams, flesh projectiles, and heavy bolter fire, like a destructive torrent pouring from the ground towards the sky, surged majestically towards the horizon, engulfing the diving Ork airships.
Boom boom boom boom…
Flashes of light, hundreds of Ork airships, turned into fireworks halfway through their dive.
However, anyone familiar with Ork strategy knows that in the Ork Ork dictionary, there is no such word as 'death' at all.
Dead Orks only serve as tools to ignite the fighting spirit of the other Orks, and even if their bodies are destroyed, the remaining muscle tissue will, with the dispersion of the atmosphere, fall to the ground like Moss, growing more Orks.
In simpler terms… the more you resist, the more excited they get.
The world Eaters Tribune had to divert some of his energy to intercept these frenzied green-skins.
Even though the Ork airships were intercepted by anti-aircraft fire, with only one in a hundred surviving, a very small number of Ork boys, relying on bewildering flight trajectories that seemed to ignore inertia and momentum, broke through the dense firepower network.
"Taste the big guy with the explosive teeth!"
Amidst the whistling The Message, an Ork roared as he piloted a dilapidated airship, sweeping low through the firepower network.
Then, under the dumbfounded gaze of Chaos, he dropped an oval-shaped bomb, covered in ridiculous graffiti and marked with a black 'big skull', towards the position of the stronghold. Several rows of crooked rivets were welded to its surface, and arm-thick cables were exposed. The whole thing looked utterly absurd and ridiculous!
But on such a ridiculous bomb, there was actually an 'Ork' riding on it.
"Here I come, I'll blow you all up!!!"
That strangely shaped green-skinned Ork, so brazenly, trampled the word 'science' into the mud.
He 'rode' that oval-shaped bomb, under the dense firepower interception network constructed by Chaos daemons and world Eaters, like skipping a stone, twisting and turning, flying flexibly up, down, left, and right in a ran, and then, with a 'Waaagh' sound, threw the bomb at the world Eaters Tribune.
"You motherf—"
The world Eaters Tribune cursed angrily; at this moment, he was truly broken.
These "Monsters" completely disregarded science. How could a "Missile" without even a thruster perform irregular movements in mid-air?
But it was clear that reasoning with green-skinned Orks was impossible.
Whether it was the Imperium or Chaos, although their technology was a bit messy, they still adhered to science and physical laws.
But what the green-skinned Orks had to consider was much simpler; they only needed to 'I reckon'.
"Cover! Cover!" The world Eaters Tribune did not hesitate and dove into a nearby defensive fortification.
Immediately after, that shell, like a joke graffiti, fell right in the center of the Chaos legion.
Whoosh!!!
The air within a radius of several hundred meters suddenly began to collapse inwards.
It was as if an invisible black hole had sucked away the air and sound for hundreds of meters. The Chaos warriors and daemons closest to the bomb all opened their mouths wide, but could not make a sound, like a silent movie.
Broken shell metal fragments floated in mid-air, as if dyeing the space a grayish-white color.
Finally, the first wave of explosions began!
First came a huge sound, as if tens of thousands of steel behemoths exploded deep within the eardrums.
The visible Impact sent dozens of tons of Chaos Dreadnoughts flying, and even their indestructible armor and cannon barrels were twisted into pretzels by the air current.
Next came the light, but it was not the usual dazzling red light.
Instead, it was a filthy green, mixed with inferior energy liquid, unknown iron slag, and discarded engine oil, pouring onto the earth like viscous asphalt.
The enveloped Chaos Space Marines, daemons, and even Terminators were all vaporized in an instant. Their armor melted into molten iron, their flesh was evaporated into pink mist, and a Chaos Dreadnought had just raised its gun barrel when it was completely blown into a blood mist!
A huge Impact, like a green tsunami, swept across more than half of the battlefield.
This was the essence of Ork engineering: after the bomb was detonated, not only was there an extremely impactful explosion, but what was truly terrifying was that the green, asphalt-like viscous liquid churned all life and matter within its range into a thick soup called 'death'.
Entire squads of Chaos world Eaters, including three Dreadnoughts and a company of Terminators, were all shredded by this explosion. "Waaagh!!!" The Ork boys flying in the sky, seeing this scene, let out excited roars.
The Chaos forces, whose area had been almost cleared by this wave of explosions, had not yet had time to vent their anger at the green-skins in the sky when they immediately saw a terrifying scene.
They saw that in the area covered by the 'green thick soup' after the explosion, 'heads' began to grow at a visible speed.
These 'heads' shook wildly, growing eyes and teeth.
Then, like 'mushrooms' emerging from the mud, they all sprouted from this huge green thick soup.
"Waaagh—!!!"
The world Eaters Tribune's face turned green, and he spat out a few words through gritted teeth.
"What… the f—"