Warhammer: Saving Humanity Begins with the Resurrection of Horus

Page 161

"With the strength of my father and me."

The world shattered, and Lynch's vision returned to normal. He was back in reality, the feather he had been holding vanished, and behind him, a pair of psionic wings folded, waiting for their master to use them.

call--

Lynch let out a long breath and nodded to Forros.

"Will you win?"

Forros couldn't help but speak. He felt a strong sensation from Lynch at that moment, a sensation that touched his genetic seed and made him want to cry.

"It will win."

Lin Qi nodded slightly, and then took flight.

"Horus, the rest is up to you."

"What are you going to do?"

"My words..."

Lin Qi smiled slightly.

"I'm going to go and pry open the hook of some half-paralyzed dog-headed man."

－－－－－－－－

Warp, Crystal Maze.

The crystal maze looked incredibly quiet today.

Tzeentch, whose body had transformed into an old man with white hair, suddenly sat up from his seat and looked at the scene displayed in the crystal ball in front of him, stroking his chin, clearly deep in thought.

He pondered for a full nine seconds before finally letting out a helpless sigh.

"That won't do... If we do that, they'll all notice..."

He muttered to himself, pacing back and forth around the crystal ball, his body constantly changing in the process. Finally, he stopped, as if he had made up his mind, and raised his hand to summon Carlos.

A crystal began to change, with countless colors appearing within it. Finally, a demon with two bird heads, a human body, blue feathers, and countless eyes hidden among the feathers slowly emerged from the crystal. It bowed its head respectfully to its master, awaiting the command that had already appeared in its head, which could glimpse the future.

"Carlos, take this with you."

"Tycoon said, while inserting one hand into his own body."

The illusion of human form shattered completely, and a blue, soft-bodied creature appeared in the labyrinth. Painful howls echoed within the labyrinth, and countless demons stopped in their tracks, staring wide-eyed at the direction of the labyrinth, unable to believe the decision their master had made.

Tzeentch's body emitted a dazzling light, and finally, it forcibly extracted a "heart" from its own body. It was a crystal-clear heart, seemingly containing countless variations. It handed the heart to Carlos and, in an extremely weak voice, gave the order to its chief demon.

“Take it with you…”

"To whom?"

"The enemy of the kobolds, the brother deceived by the cursed, the flawed god."

"We will live up to your trust."

Carlos's wings enveloped the glass heart, transforming it into a blue wind that headed towards the subspace, a realm filled with blood, sulfur, and black smoke.

-------

Lin Qi took a deep breath. To be honest, this was the first time he had faced the truth about his soul.

His body was unpredictable, giving the impression of a Tzeentch shapeshifter. But in reality, Lin Qi knew deep down that he was far more powerful than any so-called shapeshifter.

Even an incomplete god is still a god.

The changes in the body stopped, and they began to recombine rapidly. In the end, it became a human body, a body that looked exactly like the thin Lynch before the genetic modification.

Lynch looked up and saw a colossal figure, seemingly some distance away, sitting on a throne made of brass and skull, intently watching something.

"I am coming."

He whispered to himself and took a step toward the figure.

Chapter 192 The War of the Primarchs

In the sky above Galmec, two angels are locked in combat.

Against the backdrop of a blood-red sky, two warriors from an era seemingly out of place clashed in a fierce battle. The air was thick with the aura of carnage, while their followers fought valiantly beneath the shadows cast by the angel's wings.

Angron closed in, and beneath his massive body, Horus, controlling Lynch, was like a child. The black blades whistled with a piercing shriek, making the listener's brain feel like it was about to explode. However, Horus was faster; he flapped his wings and soared into the sky, simultaneously channeling his psionic energy to deflect his brother's attack.

Angron let out an angry growl, seemingly annoyed by his clumsy body. Without hesitation, however, his muscles contracted like springs, then he suddenly relaxed, transforming himself into a flying cannonball, crashing down upon Horus not far away.

Horus's eyes turned cold, and his wings snapped shut, suspending him in the sky—wings conjured from psionic energy were so agile that their movement didn't follow any physical rules; their sole standard was the thought of their master.

The sky above suddenly darkened—Angron flew above Horus, his wings whipping up a blood-red gale, a狰狞 smile plastered on his face. He spoke no words, nor did he roar; the only sound he uttered for his enemies and brothers was the buzzing of the nails driven into his head.

The black blade was raised high, without any advanced martial arts techniques, just a very simple slash.

boom!

The weapons clashed, and a powerful gust of wind arose from the point of impact. The flying vehicles and demons circling around the two were affected by this wind, their bodies tossed about in the air until they barely regained their footing eight seconds later.

"oh........."

Strangely, a satisfied smile appeared on Angron's face. His mouth slowly opened, revealing fangs and a long, barbed tongue.

"Long time no see, brother."

Horus remained silent, offering no reply. He suddenly exerted force with his arms, his psychic-enhanced body barely managing to hold its own in strength. The spear deflected the terrifying weapon that had reaped billions of lives, and with a deft twist, aimed the spearhead at the crimson angel's heart, before delivering a vicious thrust.

This is not my brother.

Horus thought to himself.

My brother died ten thousand years ago. He died because of my mistakes, because of Luo Jia's madness, because of my father's indifference, and because of the darkness of this galaxy.

A cluster of golden sparks appeared on the tip of the spear, then the sparks turned into flames, and finally into flames, enveloping the entire spearhead.

The instant the golden flame appeared, all the demons on the battlefield felt a powerful tremor in their souls. They looked up abruptly at the cluster of golden flames, their bodies shaking violently, and they cried out in voices filled with unparalleled terror.

"The Cursed One!"

Demons cannot be killed.

This is a universally acknowledged law across the galaxy. Essentially, as an energy being and a collection of emotions, a demon's death in reality is not true death. Because of the chaotic timeline of the warp, demons exist simultaneously in the past, present, and future.

After dying in reality, a demon simply returns to the warp. Here, its body will be rebuilt, and then, one day in the future, given the right opportunity, it can once again wreak havoc in reality.

However, the emergence of the emperor broke this rule.

Emperor, the cursed, the immortal, the lord of mankind...

He has many titles, but the demons prefer the name "The Cursed" and fear him immensely. The reason for this is that when the Emperor kills them with his own power, they truly die.

That was a death unlike any other; it was a death that was completely erased from the entire timeline of the warp. From then on, no one could remember that demon, and no one would ever see that demon again.

This is why demons fear the emperor.

Now, on the battlefield, the golden flames enveloping Lynch's spear are a manifestation of the Emperor's power.

Just like the Emperor's Sword that the Emperor himself used ten thousand years ago, it has the opportunity to completely slay the demon.

The spear was incredibly close to Angron's chest, about to pierce through him.

But things won't end that simply.

Crimson power flowed across his body, and Angron let out an angry roar. The sound waves coalesced into a powerful shockwave, slamming into the unsuspecting Horus.

It was an unstoppable force. Even with the protection of his power armor and his incredibly strong body, Horus still felt an intense pain, as if his internal organs were being shattered.

Horus, his wings powerless and unable to be controlled by thought, fell from the sky like a bird with a wing wound. Angron looked down at his brother, gliding down from the sky and swooping down towards the falling bird.

Closer still, he was getting closer and closer. Angron could smell the sweat on his brother's skin, the sweet scent of his brother's blood mixed with the dust in the air. He could also smell the overwhelming, almost tangible, scent of despair and death.

Horus sensed it too. Just before landing, carrying an aura of superiority that Angron lacked, the Wolf God suddenly spread his wings, halting his descent. At the same time, he thrust his spear back, a silver spear light mixed with golden flames slicing across his ferocious face, leaving a scar as long as a mortal's forearm.

However, for the Primarch, or for a demon prince who had been transformed into a demon by a true god, such a scar was utterly insignificant.

Horus grabbed his brother's shoulder, letting out a wild laugh. With a sudden burst of strength, his right arm, encased in muscles as hard as steel, hurled the man he was holding into the air. Then he raised the black blade in his hand and plunged it into the man's heart.

Just like before, if Horus doesn't use some method to escape like Angron did, then he will die.

Fortunately, he managed to escape.

The spear was gripped tightly in one hand, and then, with a sharp shout, it was hurled away.

The spear, like a golden meteor, hurtled towards the advancing Angron. Faced with an attack that could kill him, even the demon prince of the Blood God had to change his tactics. He raised his black blade, using its broadsword to block the incoming spear, but he hadn't expected the spear to be so powerful, sending him flying backward.

With a powerful thrust of his arm, the spear was deflected. But it continued its relentless flight across the battlefield until it pierced the chest of an Astartes Word Bearer, pinning him to the ground, before finally stabilizing itself.

But at this moment, Angron had disappeared without a trace.

The sky that should have been filled with his brother was now empty, and there was nowhere to hide. Angron moved his vision and unleashed his senses, trying to find his brother who had suddenly disappeared.

There's nothing below, nothing above, nothing to the left, right, east, west...

Why not?

This question arose in Angron's fragmented mind. But it was clear he wasn't good at thinking about such things; he only knew that his enemy had disappeared, and now, without finding the enemy, he had to do something to successfully bring him back.

So, what is he going to do?

Angron looked down and saw the Imperial army fighting fiercely.

Angron swooped down, giving the impression of a hunting raptor.

The Astronauts on the ground only felt their vision suddenly and abruptly enveloped, followed by a bloody massacre.

Countless human heads flew up and fell in the sky, flying up and falling. Limbs and severed bodies piled up like mountains on the ground, and the stench of blood could almost form several flowing rivers.

This is the power bestowed upon Angron by the Blood God; on the battlefield, death and blood will become his power. The more of these two things he possesses, the stronger Angron will become.

Just as Angron was slaughtering in the field, a gunshot rang out, black smoke rose from the head of the demonic principality, and a large chunk of flesh was torn off. However, with the power of the warp and the blessing of the Blood God, the wounded area quickly healed and looked completely intact in a short time.

Horus swooped down, now wielding a sharp power sword in one hand and a precision-engineered plasma pistol in the other. The high-temperature plasma left wound after wound on Angron's body, revealing the stark white bones beneath his regenerating abilities. Finally, he swung his longsword behind him with tremendous force.

The longsword tore through the air, flashing with silver light, and struck the crimson angel's left arm hard.

A wave of silvery-white sword energy swept across, tearing apart the muscles of Angron's left arm and severing it completely.

Despite the attack and the injuries he sustained, Angron felt no pain.

He has experienced a lot of pain, experiences that would make one feel incredibly frustrated, sad, and angry, and in the end, all of these things would become a kind of pain hidden deep in the heart.