The massive Prince of the Demon of Slaanesh had already begun to enter a state of hysteria.

He flicked the long spur-spurred tails of his limbs in anger and convulsions, the heavy stuff whipped the stone platform to the ground with stone chips, his saliva dripping from his yelling lipless mouth, the corrosive liquid ablating tiny pits into the ground.

The white eyes of the former Emperor's son, the commander of the 1st Company, stared at the comer who was not supposed to be here in the first place, with a look that was terrible and venomous to a demon, in the broken skin of a dried corpse.

This special court swordsman's master footwork that only the best sons of emperors would understand its strength, this life-filling, perfect, and unparalleled sense of coordination and control that can be embodied even in inanimate limbs—

"It can't be! It can't be——! You can't be-"

"Shut up!! Thou hast tarnished this glorious name!! Giulias Kesolon!! ”

The Contempt let out a roar of rage in fearlessness, the power contained in it that resonated in the chests of everyone present, capturing the rhythm of their heartbeats.

Endless hatred and the feeling of betrayal engulfed their "hearts" like a suffocating abyss.

Silver metal continued to flow from the dreadnought's glittering palm, wisps of black and white twisted together to form a slender and graceful blade, and finally converged at the tip of the weapon into a heartbreakingly sharp tip that was perfect.

But the weapon was not finally forged.

Garuda's communication with him was instantaneous, and without further words, Vogrim Ishtar immediately understood what he was going to do with the weapon.

The Contempt strode fearlessly over to the wary clan commander and his shattered chief think tank, completely unconcerned that he was exposing his back to the howling demon who was wandering but did not dare to continue his attack.

"Light it."

Dauntless commanded them briefly.

"What?" Raus clenched his massive broad-bladed power sword alertly, broken and scarred, facing his enemies, his back to his brother, his fingers still tightly clasped at the stance start button.

But the chief think tank, Trazina, who had been filled with subspace power and became painful, but his clear mind instantly realized something, he took a hard breath, and used his only remaining hand to support his only half of his body and sit up—on the other Astartes, such injuries let alone continue to fight, I am afraid that they would have been unable to move for a long time, but the Iron Hands had already exchanged the price of abandoning flesh and blood for the precious persistence of this moment.

The Chief Think Tank trembled in pain, inhaling and pulling open his eroded and torn breastplates—they were almost fragments hanging from his metal rib plates—a substantial mass of silvery-white fire burned in his chest, where the Chief Think Tank had absorbed and accumulated all the strength, and it was also the last resort he had prepared to close the subspace rift, and the last resort that was originally used with the fuse and the bait thrown to the demon to tear up would be Trazi's own soul—

"Raus...... No...... Deter...... This is ...... Necessary...... He must ...... Able to ......"

The razor-sharp and graceful silver Shabal saber was held in Fearless's hand, solemnly and skillfully thrust into the chest of Rakuan's chief thinker, and Raus's biochemical prosthetic eyes witnessed all this extraordinary process, flashing a blazing red light of warning, and the clan commander clenched his power greatsword tightly, and the soul hissed urgently and heavily along with the metal of the servo.

In Trazi's painful groans and prayers, those pure silver-white psionic flames were gathered together by the think tank with their life force and soul, and as soon as they touched the blade, they immediately happily clinged to the whole body of the saber, like silver-white mercury meeting gold, and the psionic flames and the sword body fused tightly together, forming a brighter, softer, elegant but deadly white-gold, and if you look closely, you can see the black fine electric light beating in it, almost like a rift in space.

"I ...... Thank you for your work. Then I'll get it all over as soon as possible. ”

When the Daring Daring Do raised his saber again, its surface burned with a raging white-gold flame and a very subtle black electric glow, like a weapon from a figurative sanction.

Dreadnought's saber hung gracefully, and he turned and walked towards the Demon Prince, who was screaming and tearing at his chain-encrusted jewels, medallions, and flesh and blood ornaments.

The demon of Slaanesh, named Julias Kesolon, laughed and wept, howling madly, tearing at what little hair and skin he had left, and shreds of flesh fell from his massive, bloated, whitewashed body.

He wept frantically, laughing maniacally, and when the blade of the sword burning with golden fire and electric light came, black blood tears flowed down the dry cheeks from the sunken eyes of the former emperor's son, and for a moment the demon's huge head hung down in front of the platinum blade, and it looked like it was almost about to give up resistance, embracing the mercy from the original body ended—

But he suddenly screamed again, a voice of pain and more treble, a vicious purple musk mist illuminating him with a little psychedelic flash, spilling out of the crack in the subspace that was about to open, surging beside him, instantly drowning Giulas Kesorón.

In the next moment, a disgusting ecstasy and gratitude came over the unreal tattered ugly face of the demon that had been pieced together from old human skin, "Ah——! The Prince of Darkness is on my side! You're still on my look! Immensely grateful!! I will ...... for you I will catch him again for you, dedicate it to you! Offering for you!!! ”

The voice of Prince Slaanesh became shrill and dissolute, and some great pleasure and the power of the Supreme Heaven poured into his last soul from every wound and every rupture, stretching them all apart—flattening—and bursting, and Julias laughed again in ecstasy at the intense thrill of destruction that he had never experienced before, He used the strength of his whole body and the supernatural agility that even Astarte couldn't see for a moment to rush towards Daring Daring, which looked small in comparison, and the even less worthless platinum black lightning blade in his hand—

"You killed him."

Fogham coldly spat out the words, and then waved the platinum blade in his hand.

His body was unprovoked and li, the speed of the demon seemed to be just the slow movement of his eyes like that of a dying old man, his metal heels rubbed against the ground, making a slight noise, and Dauntless gently brushed all the claws, bone spurs, and sharp teeth attacks, and "pointed" the blade burning with white-gold flames to the back of the demon's neck that had been greatly strengthened by the power of the subspace.

In an instant, it was like white phosphorus being thrown into the water.

Huge explosions, dazzling lights, and thick smoke rise.

This was followed by the sound of something bulky falling to the ground with a "thud".

"And I've avenged him."

The Iron Hand watched as the sacred machine swung its saber again, almost wearily at the terrifying subspace rift and the demonic army that roared with rage behind it.

A supernatural wind blew up, making even those as heavy as the Terminator unsteady.

Then there was nothing there, like it never existed.

Only the last remains of the demon who once called himself Giulas Caisolon were dissipating in the evening breeze that blew at some point with the last rays of the twilight of Shadenus.

The mourning poem of the king in purple was silent.

(End of chapter)