Although Mortarian was reluctant to admit that everything related to subspace was witchcraft, he insisted that it was a rational conclusion composed of rigorous mathematical logic and axioms.

But 10,000 years have passed, and to this day he has no way to explain the various supernatural phenomena in a scientific way, and he is unequivocal when he uses this power.

The attack of the Demon Primordial was like a storm of death.

His pale figure streaked across the sky, crashing like a comet into the crowd below.

The deadly acidic substance then exploded in all directions centered on Motarion's body.

When the green slime reached the Imperial soldiers, the armor they wore was almost instantly corroded, and their skin festered at a visible rate, followed by muscles, internal organs, and bones.

The one hundred and ten Astral Army soldiers who were affected screamed in pain, and the biological tissues all over their bodies were stripped off layer by layer under the action of strong acids, and finally inevitably turned into a puddle of pus, and the condition looked extremely miserable.

"It's so sad that in order to fulfill my father's tyrannical ambitions, he stupidly went to such a place to die."

Motarian's debut greatly shocked the surrounding Imperial soldiers, as if the big boss who was supposed to appear at the bottom of the level suddenly smashed in the face.

He read a deep fear in the faces of the survivors, who looked at him as if they were staring at something unspeakably terrifying.

That's right.

Although the mortals who have been trained by the empire are blind and stupid, most of them can distinguish between the superior and the inferior.

As the most outstanding soldier and warrior of the dark gods, every part of Mortarian's body was constructed by the god of plague himself, and the blessings he received were unimaginable.

So powerful, so terrifying.

The result of opposing it can only be to be easily obliterated and die in agony, like those just now, with no meaning or glory at all.

The soldiers' legs and feet trembled unobeyedly, and the strength of their arms was no longer able to lift their weapons, let alone pull the trigger for a strafing attack.

Extreme fear haunted them, almost driving them into madness.

These people had no qualifications to face themselves, and Motarian thought that they were nothing more than a bunch of money in the hands of the Lord of Mankind in exchange for benefits, a bunch of wretched creatures who had been deceived and manipulated by his father.

Mentally, physically, and in strength, they were so vulnerable that Motarian felt that the slightest sneeze could kill them.

The Emperor had never intended to help these mortals, not to bless them as generously as the other dark gods did, to make them stronger. He just keeps taking, squeezing, and harvesting from them to maintain his tyrannical rule.

"Da Da Da!"

There were still soldiers who mustered up the courage to raise their guns and attack him.

However, those few fragments of bullets could not even break through his defenses, let alone delusionally try to hurt him, or even defeat him outright.

The Demon Primordial ignored the attacks and rushed forward at such speed that the Astral Army soldiers couldn't catch him.

They just watched as the terrible humanoid monster suddenly disappeared from its place, and then felt a strong wind blowing.

In the next moment, everything in the field of vision began to spin.

The picture is constantly reversed, and the light and shadow are distorted and blurred.

In the midst of the chaos, the soldiers seemed to see a body that had lost its upper body collapse with a bang, and instinctive familiarity told them that it should be part of them.

When the soldiers realized the terrible reality that they had been cut in half by the enemy, the darkness engulfed their consciousness.

Motarian continued his killing.

Like a farmer harvesting crops in a wheat field, he reaped the lives of the Imperial soldiers in front of him, the Scythe of Silence trembling with excitement from the soul-satiating scythe, and the servo motor on the scythe made a terrifying roar, and the blood of a large number of victims splattered out and was poured on the ravaged sticky land of Nurgle Garden.

Led by the Demon Primordial, tens of thousands of Death Guards and countless Nurgle Demons also rushed into the Imperial Side's position, and tore into the major loyalist warbands trying to maintain the front.

Mortals can't stop the Lord of Death, and neither can the superhuman Space Marines.

Crimson Fist, Hospitaller, Silver Skull, White Sanctuary. None of the warriors were Motarian's enemies, and the loyalists who tried to stop him were crushed one after another, and the sheer disparity in strength was so desperate.

In this way, a path was carved out with thousands of corpses, and the fallen demigods went straight into the empire's main formation, intending to take the head of the Sun Lord and put an end to this ridiculous farce.

There, an elite force of Grey Knights, Sisters of Silence, and the Emperor's Forbidden Army awaited him.

These are all characters that Motarian hates.

While the Lord of Death hates those who are effectively loyal to his tyrannical father, he dislikes them more than any other fool.

The forbidden army is a group of dogs who take care of the emperor's home, loyal dogs among loyal dogs, sad slaves who have been imprinted with a solid mind in their minds, and have been completely hopeless.

Their presence is yet another ironclad example of the hypocrisy of the emperor.

For the Lord of Humanity prefers these humanoid tools whose minds are bound and whose will is at his disposal rather than the Genoplasm, who is the heir.

If the Emperor could bind the minds of the genetic protogens to such an extent, Motarian had no doubt that he would.

Fortunately, there are still four gods in the subspace, so that all beings in the universe can choose other fates besides enduring the tyranny of their father and becoming a stepping stone for his ascension.

And the remaining two: Sister Silence is a soulless, an insulator of subspace, whose very existence is capable of suppressing psionic energy and even killing demonic creatures entirely.

The existence of these people is simply their natural enemy, a hole that tarnishes the perfection of the subspace.

The Grey Knights are the best of the various Space Marines warbands, a full-time anti-demon unit with all hands on psionic powers, luxuriously equipped and uncorrupted by Chaos.

In addition, Motarian also had a grudge with them - the last time he came to the physical universe to do something, he was exiled by the Grey Knight's supreme mentor, Caldo Diego, using his real name, and his heart was engraved with the name of his defeated general, and he suffered unprecedented humiliation.

Therefore, in Motarian's eyes, all of these guys must die, and none of them must be left behind.

If these precious "large denomination currencies" were lost, I believe that even the inhuman father would feel pain because of it.

(End of chapter)