To this day, Fogham has lost count of the battles he's fought.

He has faced many desperate situations. After all, being an original does not mean that you are invincible. He fought wars when he ran out of ammunition and food, fought wars when he was surrounded, and fought wars when he had to face the enemy in a disadvantaged situation due to errors in intelligence.

Hills, forests, plains, oceans, vacuums. He had fought a thousand planets, at least, and he was an encyclopedia of war—but he had never fought such a war.

He was unarmed and naked, and none of that was a problem, there was only one real problem.

"Father!" A man shouted and rushed towards him, the purple-gold armor livery gleaming in the ambiguous light of the pink-purple sky. The sparkling surface of the sea illuminated the human skin that hung on his chest, adding to the fanaticism of his distorted face.

He gasped, and the mere imminent contact with Fogham was almost overwhelming him—or was the psychological pleasure actually better?

He screamed, with a sword in his hand but not with it. The stride stumbles, and the posture is like that of a young child craving a hug.

The phoenix smashed his head with a fist.

Flesh splattered, some falling into the sea, some falling on others who rushed towards him. The latter was overjoyed and immediately began to devour or lick the blood of his brothers. Those who did not enjoy such pleasure bowed their heads and fell into the sea.

Weapons were discarded haphazardly, and they began to search the sea like begging wild dogs for traces of flesh and blood, without the dignity of a warrior.

Fogrem felt a wave of nausea, gritting his teeth, his handsome face filled with rage.

He lunged down to the next man, who screamed and raised his blade at him—it should have been a precise and swift swing, and the phoenix had even figured out what to do, but the expected attack didn't come, as the man actually took his sword out of his hand.

He raised his hands tremblingly, and fell into a debauched imagination as he witnessed the strong chest of the original body. Fogham roared and swung his fist, killing one man again.

He was already furious.

He had never felt such a surge of anger since he was lost in this ocean of illusion. The approaching storm clouds in the sky couldn't touch a tenth of his anger at the moment.

He is not a storm, he is far superior to the storm.

He began to kill mercilessly, and no one could survive two moves under him, but that didn't mean his anger had stopped. In fact, he was even angrier, because these people didn't even resist.

The few who actually tried to attack him were also lost to themselves by some strange stimulus, and the sound of glamour spread across the sea, and the purple-gold livery that once represented nobility was now a symbol of depravity.

Everyone in his sight was debauching themselves and pleasing themselves while their faces. He knew them all.

Although he had become alienated into an unspeakable appearance, he still knew it.

This continued until Adoron's voice rang out behind him.

"Primordial!" He shouted. "Oh, my primordial!"

Fogrem turned and saw Eldoron charging at him. It's hard to say whether the emotions that rose in his heart after seeing this were anger or relief - maybe it's both, even if it's a fake, it's a fake that can maintain a combat posture.

Eldoron roared excitedly, savage like a monkey. His power hammer remained low as it charged, its head sinking into the sea, and instead of dissolving the seawater, it made it more intense in color.

Fogham calmly observed his forward stance, ready to dodge, and even adjusted his gait.

Adoron rushed in front of him, the weapon that had killed countless people raised in the air at this moment—it should have fallen, if Adoron hadn't screamed and fell backwards.

Fogham clenched his fists with an ugly expression.

"Primordial, me."

Adoron slowly rose from the water, gasping for breath. He stared at Fogream's face incessantly, his gaze blasphemous. He seemed to want to apologize, but halfway through the sentence, he fell into a sudden scream.

"Oh, the primordial, I. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I hope you forgive me hehe-hahahahahahahahaha

He laughed wildly, sobbing profusely, his countenance distorted by ecstasy, and the supreme shame of being despised by the original body himself made his already dry heart suddenly ripple at this moment.

Fogrem lunged at him unbearably, and at that moment, Adoron's movements became more agile than ever. He held the power hammer and rolled in the sea without any image, and even opened his mouth to drink the sea water that he didn't know what it was.

Fogrem chased after him, and he ran backwards, as if he had no intention of fighting, only to slam his hammer back in the next moment.

The phoenix immediately stopped and bent down to dodge. By the time he had regained his posture with a gloomy face, Adoron had already faced him with his hammer.

The six potion tubes were pumping medicine into him faster than ever before, his eyes sparkling, his ugly face matching those eyes wet with desire. So contradictory, so ugly

Vogrim forced himself to keep his composure again, and sneered at Adoron, "You've disappointed me, Hypocrisy, you're tarnishing Adoron's image. ”

"Really?" Adoron's lips trembled as tears rolled down.

His tear ducts should have been useless for some reason, but now they have regained their original effect for some reason. The tears dripped down the sea, stirring up pools of pink.

Fogrem looked at him in disgust and stopped talking. Adoron took a deep, deep breath.

He clutched his chest and spoke sincerely.

"You don't understand, my lord, you don't understand what I am. Do you think I'm a false shadow, a puppet fabricated by the forces of chaos? No, it's not like that. ”

Adoron blinked, lowered the hammer, and straightened his chest like never before.

Although it was only for a moment, the temperament that only belonged to the 'exemplar' emerged at this moment. The sea was sparkling, and his face seemed to return to its original appearance at this moment due to the refraction of light.

Inevitably, Fogham froze.

Adoron laughed happily, "Do you see clearly, my lord?" If you don't have one, I can do it again until you're willing to accept the truth. I'm not a hypocrite, Father, I'm the real Adoron. ”

"You can lie." Phoenix threw a few cold words from between his teeth. "I'll make you speechless again."

"If I could actually die, I'd thank you." Adoron pompously bent down and bowed. "Unfortunately, this is not going to happen."

Behind him, shadows began to rise from below sea level. Those who had been killed by Vogrim had returned, their gaze far greater than before, and they were frenzied.

The phoenix's eyes narrowed, and his expression gradually changed. Adoron smirked, not hiding his emotions at the moment.

"Remember when I said I wanted your head, father? I'll do it. You can't win a war like this, a war needs experience and theory, and you've never fought it. ”

Phoenix raised his fists.

"Come on." He said. "If you want, you can get it yourself."

Adoron laughed maniacally and rushed at him.

——

Tariq Togardon had a hard time describing his mood to anyone, and in fact, he probably didn't have the time to do it.

He got up and leaned out from behind the improvised bunker, as fast as lightning. Years of training allowed him to shoot four life-harvesting bullets with precision in this moment. With that, he immediately retreated behind the cover.

"Good marksmanship!" An emperor's son shouted at him, silver hair flying, and his cheeks were full of healed wounds. The flower-style characters were strung together to form one name after another, densely covered all over his face.

"We need to evacuate, Company Commander Lucius!" Togarton yelled at the man as he roared from his blaster. "Must be evacuated!"

"You order!" Lucius said crisply.

Togarton noticed him smiling, and the four service studs under the short white hair shone - the company commander of the thirteenth company of the emperor's son perfectly inherited their father's beauty, but alas, his smile ruined everything.

It was a terrible smile that had nothing but anger, and Togarton knew in his heart that if he could, Lucius would rush out to fight with bullets in his face.

Fortunately, he is still willing to listen to him, and that is enough.

"We walked from the back, and there was more than one way to reach Hangar 21."

"You lead the way, Company Commander Togarton!" Lucius made a quick decision, and gave the order quickly.

The emperors obeyed his orders and began to evacuate from behind the bunkers in an orderly manner covering each other, and after so many days of captivity and forced to fight their brothers to the death, they were still able to maintain discipline.

Togarton had mixed feelings, and he couldn't understand why his legion couldn't do this. He quickly put this useless thought behind him and led his brothers and the Emperor's sons out of the encirclement.

They began to rampage through the twenty-first deck, and soon relied on Togardon's familiarity to leave the encirclement of the Children of Horus and arrive at a secluded armed room.

The team began to resupply in silence, and Togarton took off his helmet and took a deep breath in a corner of the room. It wasn't a wise move to take off his helmet during wartime, but he had to, he needed to breathe straight into the fresh air.

This thought was shattered the moment the stinking air of the vengeful spirit rushed into his nostrils, and Togarton smiled bitterly as Lucius came to him.

"That feels bad, doesn't it?" He asked.

"What?"

"You know what I'm talking about." Lucius made a simple gesture. "Even though they attacked you first, I understand the feeling of having to kill the killer."

"Honestly, I just regret it." Tariq Togarton said he tried to throw a mocking smile and wanted to tell a couple of jokes to liven up the atmosphere. Naturally, this attempt failed.

The company commander of the emperor looked at him sympathetically and shook his head: "I don't know what is going on inside you, Company Commander Togarton. I'm only a stranger to Horus. ”

Me too. Togarton thought silently. The same goes for me.

Two minutes later, they were on the road again. They changed four roads in a row, and all of them were blocked and they were not allowed to enter an inch. Togarton immediately sensed some sort of clue from this strange situation.

After the same dilemma arose on the Fifth Way, he came to the conclusion that Horus wanted to trap them on the Vengeful Spirit, and for this reason, he let them do what he knew was all about, but sent troops in advance to block any possible way to leave the ship

But why?

The question swirled in his mind.

Why, father? Why would you do this?

For a moment, his father tried to answer in the dark.

——

The war dogs went all the way up, not daring to stop for a moment.

Their movements were swift, and their killings were as silent and merciless as possible - machine servants, mortal servants, Astartes. They killed all the enemies they saw along the way. Angron finally got his weapons, and he got two power swords.

For Astarte, this is a big sword, but for him, it is just two long swords, and even a little short, but it is better to have a weapon than nothing.

Now, they rely on Anglan's perception to move, which is efficient and precise, but also cruel, as every dog can see the movement of the Butcher's Nail.

Karn couldn't tell how many times he had come up with the idea of persuading the Primordials, and as always, he snuffed it out. He knew early on that such persuasion would lead to nothing, and that for Angrun, the Butcher's Nail was not just a torture tool.

Robert Killiman, the original form of the Ultramarines, had revealed a few words to him about the incident, and he remembered the expression on the face of the Lord of Maculag at that time, and that complex look of sadness and respect that he would never forget.

They continued upward, and after another fight and trek, they reached the entrance gate to the eighth deck. The size of the Vengeful Spirit is huge, and its owner's attention to pomp and circumstance is rare in the world.

This pursuit is multifaceted, even if it is just an entrance door, it must be as majestic and brilliant as possible. It was housed under a round arch, and fragments of armor and weapons were cast into the door itself.

Its surface was rough and unpolished, and the fragments of the armor and the broken blade of the chainsaw sword were even clearly visible. The dull red is smeared around the edges, creating a strong metaphor for the ash-white that looks like ashes.

Angron and the war dogs stood in front of it, the latter waiting for the primordial's orders, but the former fell silent.

Blood.

He smelled blood.

Familiarity, disgust, hatred.

blood

Angrand closed his eyes, and in his perception that the world had fallen into darkness, only the door remained light.

He began to imagine - he pushed the door open without hesitation, and in an instant, the blood gushing from behind the door drowned him. A voice began to whisper, promising something like power to overcome Horus.

And Angron laughed.

In reality, he is laughing, and in imagination, he is also laughing.

"You're getting weaker." Said the Lord of the Twelfth Legion. "Your voice is not like thunder, you are a weak god."

The river of blood hung upside down, and boundless rage roared wildly, but Angron opened his eyes calmly, his hands raised, and his sword blade held high.

With the sharp sound of the air being cut, the gate was destroyed in an instant, and he walked in with his head held high, as if victorious, followed by the war dogs.

However, the scene behind the doors of the eighth deck was not mild, and the stench here was stronger than that of Vengeful Spirits elsewhere. If any other deck can maintain its most basic rational structure, it is a place of utter disorder.

Stairs are revealed on the walls, and the ceiling is covered with a red carpet that ripples like a river of blood. The ground was empty, and there was not a single thing in sight. Only the dense black fog that escaped, behind it, there were some shadows faintly moving.

"Be prepared." For the first time since the beginning of the war, Angeland reminded his warriors. He turned his head, and Karn saw him smiling.

"We are about to face a bitter battle, we may die, we will die. But it doesn't matter."

Karn picked up his words.

"We will sacrifice with the blood of our enemies." He said.

Angron laughed and rushed into the darkness.

——

You sit on your throne, you smile, content. You can't be more satisfied than at this moment, everything is going according to your plan.

Yes, you need to despair, so you have to give them hope first.

Let Lorcan and Togarton plot secretly, they can't leave the vengeful spirit anyway. Let Angron go in the direction of Fogham, the phoenix won't wake up anyway. Just let Corus Corax get close to you and jump on you.

He is but a bird that thinks he is free, and he will eventually fall.

You think about whether or not to kill them all here. It's not such a difficult option, you're powerful enough to shake the basic laws of physics with just a thought, not to mention you're on the Vengeful Spirit.

This is your royal court, and you are the only king here. If you want to, it will follow your wishes. You can turn this into a killing field, or you can turn it into a vortex of chaotic forces.

Ah, temptation, what a temptation.

A thirst for blood fills your chest, your eyes turn red, and you begin to crave to kill—until another thought strikes into your head, and you hear a soft feather scratching sound and change your mind.

Yes, it's a waste to kill them now, you might as well make the situation bigger. Why not let them escape? You can pay some price to summon the subspace storm and trap them here so that they can't escape.

There will be people who will help them, support them. Then you will be able to sow more hope and reap more despair.

You stand up from your throne with a smile, you hear a footstep, and you don't have to look back to know who it is.

"Ezekell." You pronounce his name gently. "It's good that you're still standing on my side."

There was no malice in your words, but he bowed his head in shame at your words. You know what he's thinking—there are two betrayals in the Council of Four Kings, and Ezekel Abaddon can't stand it.

You understand what he's trying to do, but it's not the time yet.

"Primordial."

You hear him calling.

"How? Are you all set? "You ask for your orders disappreciatively.

Ezekell's emotions are just the most insignificant thing at the moment, and you need to set up some surprises to welcome your brother who likes to stay in the shadows, he is an ungrateful man, but you still love him.

"It's all ready, primordial. We've sealed off all boarding decks and hangars, we've got you marked out where you might be jumped, and the melt bombs have been installed. It's just that it's really a good thing to use such a chain of bomb traps on the Vengeful Spirit? ”

He's questioning you, killing him.

That thirst for blood returned. You squint your eyes, suppressing the longing, your heart full of displeasure. You turn your head to look at Ezekell. You made him bow his head just by looking at him.

"The Spirit of Vengeance has evolved, my son." You tell him softly. "It's no longer the battleship it used to be, it's something else, an incarnation, a source of destruction"

"Primordial?" Fear appeared in Ezekell's voice, he was wavering, he was afraid of you.

Very well, be afraid, my son. Your fear is what I need as well.

"Let's go down." You tell him. "Be careful, Ezekell, don't die. If you die, I will be very sad. ”

You're not lying.

Ezekell's mood regained slightly.

You walk slowly forward to the towering porthole. From here, you can clearly see the fleet that is approaching you.

The Emperor's Shadow. How similar is your brother's talent to a special warship whose special reflective shield has hidden among the stars countless times?

Unfortunately, this special equipment derived from the Void Shield also has shortcomings, although it can make the ship undetectable, it will also reduce the perception ability of the ship itself and reduce the defense ability. The Void Shield and the Reflection Shield can't even be used at the same time

What does it mean that your brother didn't use his usual tactics to sneak up on you?

It's funny.

Do you think of Conrad Coetzes again, presumably because of some reminder from him? You know his vague madness.

Prophecy? It's ridiculous.

Any one-sided commentary on the future is wrong, and no one can really observe the future. Except for you, yes, except for you.

You laughed.

You hope Alfaris is doing his job.

Nostramo, what a planet.

You gaze at the stars, looking forward to the day you return to Terra. Your longing is endless, and as soon as you meet Angeland, you begin to crave more brothers. This longing never ends, unless you do

"Father." Horus Lupecal's voice sounded in the darkness, like a call, like a cry.

What happened to you just now?

It doesn't matter, just keep staring.

Updated.

Yesterday Kavin.,I forgot to send a single chapter notification.,Sorry.。

(End of chapter)