Hordas let out a piercing roar that tore at the ears. His footsteps landed with heavy thuds, leaving burning footprints on the ground. The earth groaned and trembled beneath his stomps as dust was ruthlessly shoved aside.
He charged in a straight, aggressive line toward the towering, mountain-like Skarbrand.
This fearless, stubborn spirit—that dared to face a far stronger foe—delighted the entity lurking deep within the Warp known as Khorne. If Hordas survived, he would surely receive even greater blessings.
Unfortunately, the moment Hordas began his charge, the countdown to his death had already begun.
In Skarbrand's eyes, which burned with eternal rage, a faint trace of contempt appeared. He turned slightly sideways and held the massive axe—the symbol of endless fury—horizontally in his hands.
The unquenchable flames blazing on the axe's blade sensed the approaching slaughter. They hissed hungrily and flared with excitement.
Hordas charged straight at Skarbrand. The double-handed axe that had once shattered a Land Raider now carried unimaginable power. He delivered crossing slashes from both sides, fiercely hacking at Skarbrand's neck and chest.
The two axes tore through the air, emitting a high-pitched, ghostly screech.
Skarbrand used his war axe to parry upward, deflecting the opponent's dual-wielded axes.
Clang!!!
A terrifying, ear-splitting boom rang out, as if two mountains had collided. The visible shockwave spread outward in a ring, exploding and pulverizing all debris and fragments within a ten-meter radius.
Hordas's seemingly unstoppable cross-slash was effortlessly countered by Skarbrand. The tremendous recoil force caused the armor on his arms to creak under the strain, countless cracks spreading across it.
Skarbrand gave Hordas no chance to regain his footing. The instant the dual axes came down, his right leg—thick as a palace pillar, with reversed joints—shot forward like a battering ram.
The spiked brass knee pad slammed heavily into Hordas.
Bang!!
A dull thud echoed as the mighty Hordas was blasted backward as if struck by a spaceship, continuously vomiting blood. His once-proud heavy armor and torso caved inward, revealing a clearly horrifying outline of the impact.
Roar!!
The moment Hordas lost his balance and flew into the air, Skarbrand swung his massive axe at terrifying speed, tracing a cruel semicircle.
The Lord of Chaos was sliced cleanly in half diagonally from his right shoulder to his left waist. The murderous Hordas was left half-dead. He was not fully slain and could not move—he could only let out powerless roars.
Skarbrand stepped forward, severed the man's head, and ended the life of this Chaos Lord.
The Greater Daemon bent down, grabbed the battered helmet and the head frozen in shock and pain. He kept it as a trophy, attaching it to his waist.
"My lord, are all those you bless this weak?"
"Someone like you could never resist my grasp on power."
"Back then, I was the only one by your side. We were so strong, invincible, unmatched by anyone."
"And now, you've even come to look down on such incompetent trash."
"If you cannot sit on that throne, then I will!"
Thinking this, Skarbrand roared toward the sky.
This act provoked the Blood God's wrath. The blood mist hanging in the air swirled even more violently. The worshippers driven by the Blood God's will grew increasingly fanatical. They charged toward the monastery, screaming the Blood God's name.
Skarbrand also broke into a run, charging toward the army that worshipped the Blood God and beginning a brutal massacre.
The Greater Daemon's body transformed into a storm of destruction—a whirlwind of brass and flame—that plunged into the densest part of the enemy formation.
Every swing of the massive axe unleashed a storm of blood and flesh. It was not mere killing—it was extermination.
Vampires were sliced in half, becoming little more than meat and axe. The Khorne Crusher was split from head to groin; its daemonic engine core exploded into a dazzling fireball.
The cultists' ranks parted as if sliced by a hot knife through butter. Fragments of limbs, weapons, and vehicle wreckage scattered in a fan shape, while fountains of blood covered the surroundings.
The path Skarbrand carved turned in an instant into a road of death paved with severed limbs, shattered armor, and blazing rubble.
Khorne's forces fell one after another like stalks of wheat.
Skarbrand used the most direct and blood-soaked method to prove his power to his former master. One day, he would return to the Realm of Brass and become the new Blood God.
"Saint, is this situation really okay?"
Imperial Fists Squad Leader Paetrov Dysorian bisected a Khorne Bloodletter charging at the low wall from the waist with his blade. He looked up and witnessed Skarbrand carrying out a massacre in the enemy ranks.
Every time the giant monster swung down, the screams of Khorne's worshippers and the sound of their limbs flying filled the air.
At first, Dysorian thought he was not fully awake and was seeing hallucinations. A Chaos Archdaemon acting in the Emperor's name had slain a Chaos Lord who worshipped Khorne. The scene was utterly absurd. Even those who had served the Emperor for centuries had never seen anything like it.
If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed it.
Celestine swung her sword in a backhand strike. The blazing holy blade sliced through the screaming cultist as easily as cutting butter.
"It should be fine."
Even the voice of the Living Saint carried a faint hesitation. She, too, was bewildered by the current situation.
She knew that the Nameless One was Skarbrand's pet. Skarbrand was the one he had captured during the Terra expedition. At the time, Skarbrand had been trying to obtain the head of the Emperor's son to please the Blood God. As a result, they had been surrounded and ultimately subdued by the Nameless One using a mysterious relic.
She had been present then and had participated in the encirclement and arrest.
Back then, Skarbrand had been the pure embodiment of uncontrollable destruction. He was unbearably arrogant and excessively willful. His eyes held only fanatical devotion to the Blood God and hatred for the Nameless One.
No one knew what had happened in between, but this faithful worshipper of the Blood God had, for some reason, transformed into the form of the Nameless One. They now stood on the side of the Imperium, openly rebelling against the Blood God.
Then, a strange sound wave—mixing extreme pain and ultimate pleasure—emerged.
From within the blood mist appeared a magnificent yet twisted figure.
The Chaos Lord of the Emperor's Legions, Excrucias the Flawless, joined the battle. His armor was covered in eerie purplish-pink proliferating tissue, adorned with reliefs of writhing human faces. The long sword in his hand, covered in evil runes, sent unsettling ripples through the air with even the slightest tremor.
Behind him followed a squad of equally flashy and twisted Noise Warriors. Their very existence was a dual torment to both senses and reason.
At that moment, a blood-soaked giant charged toward them as if crawling out of a pool of blood.
He wore the power armor symbolizing the World Eaters Legion—stained with old blood and fresh chunks of flesh. Grotesque and eerie Khorne runes were carved into the shoulder armor.
Most eye-catching of all was the massive, roaring chainsaw axe gripped in his hands. Its spinning blades emitted a sound like the distant howl of a hungry beast.
Khârn. The human champion most favored by Khorne, and commander of the World Eaters Legion's 8th Company. Born on Terra, one of the early Astartes.
He had once been the Emperor's most loyal warrior, but after the return of Primarch Angron, he lost that position. At the time, they had brought the curse of the Butcher's Nails and endless rage to the War Hounds Legion. From that moment on, reason and nobility were replaced by unbearable pain and killing intent, as if nails were driven into the skull.
Khârn gradually fell into corruption and ultimately became the Blood God's slave.
"Blood for the Blood God!!"
Khârn let out a muffled roar. Without any tactics or detours, he charged straight into the Imperial lines.
Celestine flapped her wings sharply, transforming into a golden meteor as she descended upon Khârn from the front. The holy sword in her hand radiated unprecedentedly intense light, as if to purify this blasphemous sky.
Clang!!!!!
The collision of the holy sword and the chainsaw axe produced an ear-splitting boom that metal alone could never create. It was the clash between sacred faith and endless rage.
Khârn's ferocious charge and Celestine's diving slash, filled with all her belief and power, was suddenly halted. Khârn's heavy body swayed backward, the ground beneath his feet shattering and caving in.
Celestine used the momentum to leap about fifteen centimeters into the air and quickly slashed upward along the chainsaw axe's handle, aiming straight for Khârn's throat. Dazzling sparks flew.
Khârn took half a step back and was forced to block with his axe.
But Celestine's attacks came like a storm. The battle between the two instantly grew fiercer.
The Perfect Ones targeted the fiercely fighting Datch, intending to reap his head to please their god.
Datch took out a Poke Ball and summoned the Masque of Slaanesh.
"W-What?!"
Seeing the Masque of Slaanesh appear, surprise flashed across the face of the Perfect Ones.
It was one thing for a great daemon of the Blood God to betray him, but why had even the Masque of Slaanesh—who had once been a follower of the Prince of Pleasure—switched sides to the Corpse Emperor?
Or perhaps, lately, even the Warp was cutting costs and improving efficiency by sending its own employees into enemy lines?
The Masque of Slaanesh began to walk gracefully. The movements seemed slow at first glance, but in an instant, they closed the distance to the Perfect One.
The surrounding scenery began to distort, blurring the boundary between reality and illusion. The perfect beings were drawn into the illusion, forced to face endlessly boring and pitiful failures…
The ultimate sensory pleasure granted by Slaanesh was twisted by the Masque of Slaanesh into a torture device that infinitely amplified pain and self-doubt.
"Get out of here, illusions, delusions."
The Perfect Ones cried out and swung his sword at the Masque of Slaanesh. The sword easily pierced the graceful figure, but it only created faint ripples of light and shadow.
The Perfect One was completely immersed in the hallucination—sometimes desperately slashing at empty air, sometimes groaning in pain while clutching his helmet, sometimes twisting the face beneath the mask violently without moving an inch.
In the end, this unfair battle quietly came to a close. The Perfect One died within the illusion. His body, corrupted by Chaos, resembled a delicate doll with its soul ripped out as it was slammed onto the filthy ground.
Meanwhile, the life-or-death battle between the Living Saint and Khorne's chosen one finally reached its conclusion.
Khârn, who had initially been on the defensive, quickly turned the tide with his overwhelming power and reckless sacrifices. Celestine was at a disadvantage. The chainsaw axe's blows made defense increasingly difficult, and she suffered injury after injury.
Another ferocious charge came. The chainsaw axe deflected the holy sword at an unbelievable angle. The heavy back of the axe slammed into Celestine's breastplate.
The Living Saint let out a dull groan. She staggered back several steps from the powerful blow.
Before she could regain her footing, Khârn's second axe flew toward her neck. Celestine barely raised her sword to block, but the impact was too overwhelming. Her hand split open, she dropped to one knee, and golden blood dripped from the corner of her mouth.
Her aura weakened, and the light from her wings flickered like a candle flame in the wind.
Khârn raised the chainsaw high, his bloodshot single eye fixed on the unsteady Living Saint. The roaring, jagged blade aimed at her head. Ruin was imminent.
Just at that moment—
Clang! Clang! Clang!
A series of hoofbeats approached from afar at astonishing speed.
Khârn looked up in surprise toward the source of the sound.
A warhorse enveloped in eerie blue flames galloped over from a distance. Riding it was Datch. He wore the armor of the Lich King and wielded the Moon's Greatsword.
Before Khârn could react, he was rammed by the warhorse. This chosen one, deeply loved by Khorne, was blasted away by the impact. He smashed through half of a low wall and the wreckage of a daemon engine, finally stopping amid a cloud of dust and debris, kicking up a massive dust cloud.
Roar!!
Khârn stood up and let out a terrifying roar as he charged ferociously toward Datch.
"Hurry and come help!"
Datch summoned the currently deranged Skarbrand and the Masque of Slaanesh, who had just defeated the Perfect Ones.
Immediately after, the shapeshifter and dominator Zarhulash was summoned.
Finally, he summoned Pugh and the Life Angel Orange, ordering them to heal the wounded Living Saint and the injured soldiers.
The fleeing Khârn was blocked head-on by Skarbrand. Skarbrand swung his axe fiercely, forcing Khorne's chosen one back repeatedly. Meanwhile, the Masque of Slaanesh danced beside Khârn, driving his senses and will into madness.
Changeling spirits flickered around him, constantly creating illusory fake attacks and traps while changing forms.
On the other side, Zarhulash unleashed a cold containment field that weakened Khorne's chosen one's life force and connection to the Warp.
This absurd and terrifying scene completely ignored the laws of the universe.
At this sight, Celestine, Dysorian, Sister Levinia, and many other Imperial heroes were left stunned, their minds going blank.
The servants of the gods—and even fragments of the C'Tans—obeying the Nameless One… what on earth did this mean?
Was this man plotting to create a new set of Four Gods?
...
The surrounded Khârn let out a roar filled with fierce rage. He swung his chainsaw axe with all his might, transforming—thanks to the Blood God's blessings—into a tireless, pain-immune machine of destruction.
However, he faced far too many enemies, and every one of them was stronger than him.
Every slash from Skarbrand carried terrifying power, shattering the armor on Khârn's arms and causing blood to spray from both his hands.
The dance of the Masque of Slaanesh continued to erode his will, mixing distorted auditory hallucinations and self-doubt with the unbearable pain of the Butcher's Nails.
The Changeling spirits appeared and vanished unpredictably—sometimes appearing as former loyal comrades to hurl accusations, other times as illusions of Angron to apply even greater pressure.
Khârn's armor was in tatters, exposing his scarred, robust muscles. New wounds appeared one after another. Even old wounds that had barely healed thanks to the Blood God's protection tore open again.
Finally, Zarhulash unleashed a dazzling destruction beam that struck Khârn directly.
Khârn's furious axe-swinging movements stopped instantly. His roaring posture, shattered armor, powerful physique, and the roaring chainsaw axe in his hand vanished as if erased by the most skilled eraser on a pencil drawing.
It began at the point of contact, rapidly breaking down into the most basic and meaningless particles, then transforming into faint, ethereal light.
Khârn—one of Khorne's most favored chosen champions—had fallen.
Of course, given Khorne's nature, he would never abandon such a powerful soul. Khârn would surely return in the future, carrying even deeper hatred and thirst for bloodshed.
With three Chaos Lords defeated, the traitors' offensive collapsed once more.
However, at this moment, the rift in the Warp had already reached planet Sadrika and was about to swallow the planet whole. Enemy fleets continued to emerge endlessly along the Warp rift, on a massive scale.
The warship, positioned in orbit, sent an emergency message so that ground forces could evacuate as quickly as possible using beacons.
"We are withdrawing."
Celestine ordered Dysorian and the others to board transport ships with beacons and depart.
"What about the Nameless One?" Sister Levinia asked, pointing at the still-fighting Nameless One.
"Don't worry about him—he'll be fine. Let's hurry."
Celestine urged the people of the Imperium to evacuate.
She knew very well what the Nameless One was capable of. The traitors and daemons had no way to stop him.
Under the Living Saint's orders, Dysorian and the others could only take the beacons, board the transport ships, leave the monastery, and head toward the warship in orbit.
Datch stayed with Skarbrand and the others at the monastery entrance to buy time.
With Datch's help, Celestine and the others successfully escaped the surface of planet Sadrika.
Carrying the beacons, they boarded the Dutyblade warship positioned in planetary orbit.
After receiving the mission completion notification, Datch recalled Skarbrand and the others.
Next, he took out the teleport gun, set the teleport coordinates, and opened a teleport portal. They escaped the planet before the Warp storm swallowed Sadrika.
Datch chose the bridge of the warship Dutyblade as the teleport destination. His appearance startled Dysorian and the others.
The Nameless One truly possessed the ability to teleport instantly, regardless of spatial distance or interference fields.
Celestine showed little reaction. She had seen every method the Nameless One used, and teleportation was nothing more than a basic operation to her.
Datch ignored the people on the bridge, opened the mission panel, and checked the information.
Mission completed, and successful support for the evacuation of Imperial survivors left on planet Sadrika. Congratulations.
[Quest Rewards: 1200 Experience Points, 1200 Points, Reputation +100, 100 Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans]
A bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans appeared in the game inventory.
These were beans inspired by the Harry Potter universe. They came in various shapes, colors, and flavors—completely random what taste you'd get.
Datch took out a flavor bean and ate one.
It was pineapple flavor—very delicious.
Curiously, he ate another, but the next one made him want to vomit. He nearly threw up.
"Ugh… I ate Nurgle's blessing!!"