Wasteland Expanse.
This was a paradise for Daemons and Mutated Lifeforms, covered in pure chaos. The filthy land was constantly changing.
They reveled amid tar rivers, petrified forests, bone stairways, and pus-filled castles. Flesh-and-blood creatures—and even human bodies—could vaguely be seen among them.
Those were trophies the Daemons had seized during their retreat.
Even though they could no longer invade the Galaxy on a large scale, they could still occasionally capture fresh flesh-and-blood lifeforms from fringe regions untouched by the Imperium of Man, or from lost ships—whether xenos or other races.
They used them to sate their greed for souls and thirst for blood.
Naturally, such flesh-and-blood lifeforms had become exceedingly precious. The Daemons would not slaughter them lightly, instead torturing and savoring them slowly.
"Look! Behold this eternally disordered domain! It is an extension of my will, a fortress forged from chaotic nothingness.
"No one can breach it!"
Within the Chaos Realm, Orkas, King of the Wasteland, stood atop his castle and looked down upon his territory, unable to conceal his pride.
Once a follower of Khorne, he had led the remnants of his forces away after Blood Soil fell and established a new domain here.
This region lay far from the Divine Domains of the Chaos Gods, and even farther from human colonies. Even a vast human army would struggle to cross countless obstacles and reach this place.
It was, without question, an impregnable fortress!
"The God of War is on his last legs, and the flames of slaughter are dimming. We must wait for a better opportunity—"
That was what Orkas said.
When he had withdrawn from Blood Soil, he had brought away many followers, resources, and several Dark Artisans.
These precious war resources formed the foundation for rebuilding his legion. His army needed time to recover.