Out of the cress that suddenly appeared was a blood-soaked legion, the Chief Archmosis of the Throne of Sadism, Sca Brand.

In subspace, the home of demons, there are four powerful four gods.

The rotting giant representing plague and disease, Nurgle, whose fate is unknown, is believed by its followers to be a loving father, so it is also called Nurgle, the loving father.

Nurgle usually appears as a corrupt, gigantic creature, full of corruption, foul-smelling, and puffy, surrounded by a perennial black cloud of demonic insects, each carrying a deadly plague germ on its back, affectionately known to his followers as the Black Robe of Blight. Clusters of grape-shaped herpes grew around Nurgle's waist, and all kinds of decaying and falling organs kept flowing out of the holes in his body, and these mucus and organs and herpes would split into some Nurgle, and Nurgle would giggle from time to time like a group of children fighting with each other in filth...

Nurgle was peaceful and gentle, except that every one of his followers had been exposed to countless terrible viruses from their exposure to it.

Tzeentch, who represents conspiracy and assassination, has more than a hundred real names just by his own name, but anyone with a little bit of intelligence won't believe any of them.

This terrible demon with the head of a bird, a human body, a poisonous snake in his hair, and wings entwined with pythons is an absolute fraudster, the originator and faith of a swindler, whose words cannot be believed even by punctuation.

His followers grow horrific scales and tentacles, and prefer to use backstabbing and intrigue to kill anyone who doesn't want to take refuge in them, no matter how weak they may be.

The Slaanesh Shalis, who represents lust and joy, is the only one who is sure, or whose name is certain, for there is no need to conceal it.

He or she is a perfect intersex creature, a prince who indulges in pleasure and a princess who is full of desire. This deity is intoxicated with all irrepressible indulgences and pleasures, and in his or her warm embrace, you can only fall deeper than depravity.

Sharis' followers are lust-indulgent, complacent, self-indulgent fanatics, and the more serious they get, the more they are favored by their crazy masters—such as the former general who once allowed his soldiers to indulge in a planet-wide, the current Shalis's pet, the Demon Prince of Slaanesh's men, and the [Slaanesh's Masquerade] Karakadran who is now fighting Prince Zieg Fried.

And last, and the most powerful, god of war and brutality.

Fear is so powerful, as long as there is war and killing in the world, then his power is endless. He sat forever on a brass throne as huge as a planet, his skulls piled up in the square beneath the throne, blood pooling into a rushing river.

He is powerful, so powerful that if he were not restrained and constricted, he himself would have been able to wipe out the unpleasant "coward" Tzeentch and "pimp" Shalis in any space and time.

Even if he can't do it, his Archdemon and Chosen Warriors are busy roaming through every world across the universe in search of the followers and cronies of the other two evil gods who are infuriating.

Unfortunately, just like himself, the stronger his followers are, the deeper their minds will be occupied by killing, blood and anger, and many times they will appear irrational and simple-minded.

Chief Archdemon Sca Brand, a four-cornered six-winged demon tens of meters high, he can directly split the space with the big axe in his hand, and can directly lift a city and throw it into the void, but, just like his brainless master, he is always used...

Unfortunately, this time was the same.

Slaanesh didn't even deceive him, but told him that he was going to start a race on this planet to see who could sacrifice it for his master first.

Then these two goods just killed them directly, he didn't think about why he wanted to help his old rival kill the enemy, and he couldn't understand why the powerful subspace gods wanted to engage in such a childlike funny competition, he only knew victory, and killing, and that was enough.

"Blood ——!"

The terrifying Great Demon directly cut out a tunnel from subspace to this world. He and his equally bloodthirsty and crazy men poured out of the cracks.

They pounced directly on the nearest mage tower defense unit, and the most elite spellbreakers and defensive shield guards were as defenseless as tissue paper in front of their axes and battles, and were killed like blows flying.

There were thousands of elite defense troops, and they couldn't hold out for a few minutes in front of them.

On the mage tower, there was already chaos, because three great mages who were preparing to use spells to expel the great demon discovered a terrible fact at the same time.

"This demon, there is no way to use spells on him!" Horrified, St. Freya discovered that all of Scarbrand's own magic could not be pointed. It's as if this demon isn't a target at all.

As if sensing someone watching him, Scarbrand's ugly horned head lifted up to look at the mage's tower, which was already close at hand.

"Hahahaha! Fool, your little tricks are useless!! ”

Scarbrand's massive toe hooves trampled the fragile earth, and the cracks like landslides were bottomless, spreading like spider webs from beneath his feet.

Both his own cronies and the Prince's Army Mage Tower defense force all screamed and fell into the crack, and now, there was nothing left between the terrible Great Demon and the four people on the Mage Tower.

"Spell, cunning, abominable Tzeentch monkey!" I don't know what Scarbrand's weird brain circuit came up to, but he was even angrier, and he began a deadly charge!

On the mage tower, the mediocre man with the big shield looked back at St. Freya, who was already flustered, with tears in the corners of his eyes, like an ordinary woman.

"Freya, don't you know those spells with a huge range? Can you hurt this guy? ”

A mediocre male alto is just as good as his mediocre face and mediocre strength.

"Can.. But goals are needed .."

At the moment of life and death, Freya no longer had the slightest shelf of the royal supreme mage, but just said in a barely audible voice like a wife without assertiveness.

"That's good." The man smiled, and the man smiled warmly, perhaps the only thing that stood out from him and all Freya's suitors back then.

This time, under this peaceful and gentle smile, it will be the most cruel decision.

The man smiled, Freya knew her chosen husband well, she seemed to guess what he was going to say, but the gentle man covered her newly opened mouth.

"Well, then, I'm your target."