Abaddon Was Let Go by Guilliman!

The ground was viscous, covered in biomass and vast amounts of foul-smelling secretions that rose halfway up Azrael's calves. Every step was immensely difficult, as though countless tiny creatures invisible to the naked eye were dragging at his legs from within the yellowish, translucent suspension. It was utterly revolting.

As an Astartes seasoned by countless battles, Azrael naturally would not let the environment affect his fighting spirit.

What truly made him uncomfortable was the atmosphere around them. The Absolved Angels followed beside the Lion, silent and reticent, but there was a trace of hostility in the way they looked at Azrael.

Hraell likewise said nothing. Azrael vaguely sensed that this brother of his probably carried quite a few secrets as well.

His superb swordsmanship, his understanding of Sepher, and his relationship with the Lion all suggested that his brother's former status within the First Legion had been anything but ordinary.

Facing Leman Russ again, along with the hallucinations unleashed by the Malice of Malan Tai, seemed to have left his thoughts confused and heavy. Apart from killing enemies, Hraell had barely said anything along the way.

The atmosphere among the Deathwatch Black Shields was even more awkward. Most of them had committed sins difficult to forgive; some had outright come from renegade or fallen Chapters, while others were descendants of Traitor Legions. Following a Primarch renowned for his savagery, sharpness, and terror, they could hardly avoid feeling nervous.

Azrael could not help wondering whether there might be a few Fallen Angels among his Black Shield brothers.

"Those disgusting fluids... we haven't crawled into some bug's reproductive gland, have we?"

Azrael tried to lighten the mood with a joke.

But the air held only awkwardness, dead silence, and quiet. No one responded to Azrael's joke.

Only several Absolved Angels gave Azrael