Vulkan and the others looked down over Holy Terra, their expressions somewhat heavy.
The former center of the Imperium, humanity's Throne World, had been eroded by darkness and had completely fallen into ruin.
Across the continents were countless shocking fissures. Every building had been reduced to rubble, and magma churned.
The only blessing was that the mortals on this planet had already been evacuated long ago and had not been caught up in this terrible disaster.
The Dark Rifts within Terra were continuously spewing out black monsters. They crawled over every landmass like swarms of ants and gathered toward the region where the Himalazian Mountains stood.
That was the Imperial Palace, the place where the Golden Throne stood, and also the source from which the Dark King had been born.
The God of Destruction was desperately summoning his minions to eliminate anything that might stop his birth.
For example, the Ancient Artifact Light of Shadow, as well as human forces such as His Majesty the Savior, the Primarchs, and the Adeptus Astartes.
"His Majesty the Savior, what should we do?" Sakan looked at the scene, his heart trembling.
Any warrior who saw those endless monsters, filled with the Fel Energy of Destruction, would feel fear despite himself.
They had never seen such a terrifying sight before.
The Imperium had used the Blackstone Fortresses to sever the Dark King's tendrils across vast areas of the Galaxy and the Warp, continuously reducing the possibility of his descent.
Even so, the Dark King's counterattack and struggle were still fearsome. A tide of monsters on such a scale was enough to drown any warrior.
Including a Primarch.
"The nearby Dark Rifts have already been blocked. Has the Imperial fleet's support still not arrived?" Vulkan said with some concern.
Given the current situation, even if