Red Sand

[The Insurgent]

The World Eaters, Angron's flagship.

"Sir, those tax collectors' ships are still following us. They haven't given up."

The World Eaters the order, Primarch's lieutenant, Loke, stepped forward to report.

"Take over their communications, I'll speak to them personally."

Angron impatiently took the communication device from his adjutant.

Regarding the taxation issue for the worlds you have conquered, Lord Angron, we have truly tried our best to negotiate with Terra.

However, because the amount of resources required for our Great Crusade is far too enormous, in order to sustain the Great Crusade, we must—

"Must what?"

"Are my orders really that hard for you to understand?"

"I don't want to say it again," Angron, his expression still fierce, "But if you really can't understand human language, then I can only tell you countless times—our world does not pay any taxes for tyrants."

"My lord, this—"

"Now, get out."

[My lord, comparing the great Master of Mankind to Emperor is extremely blasphemous. Please do not do it—]

"I never said that." Angron's expression revealed a hint of disdain. "But if you insist on thinking that way, then it seems you should be facing the questioning of those disgusting Imperium bureaucrats."

Click.

With a gloomy expression, Angron turned off the communication device and tossed it back to Commander Loke behind him.

"Well."

As the Primarch the World Eaters, he has never relaxed his work in the Great Crusade since he led the War Hounds to change their name to the World Eaters.

He always maintained high standards and strict requirements for his World Eaters warriors.

They bear the mission of liberating all humanity in the galaxy, and this task must not be delayed because of the Legion's soldiers' procrastination.

Upon arriving in a new world, Angron would require Legion warriors to defeat their opponents within one Nuceria day, or thirty-four hours.

There are still many more human beings in this world waiting for his rescue, and many more people need his help. Every minute and every second, countless people in the Milky Way are being enslaved by Xenos forces— the World Eaters must do his best to rescue his fellow human beings from this!

If it cannot be captured within thirty-four hours

So they failed to conquer it, which means the enemy was indeed powerful. Even the World Eaters would need more than 34 hours to completely seize the planet's surface and arm it.

What, you can't possibly the Eleventh Purge without ever having played a match, right?

Angron always treated his legionary warriors with the same warmth he had shown his gladiator brothers and sisters in Nuceria.

—Even though those brothers and sisters are not actually brothers and sisters.

But her warm and gentle nature towards others has been successfully preserved to this day without the Butcher's Nails.

As a gladiator who rose from the lowest strata of slavery, Angron's approachable and unpretentious demeanor earned him the loyalty and respect of almost everyone in the Legion, from mortal crew members to Astartes commanders.

Therefore, whenever the Legion fails to conquer the world on a Nuceria Day and sees Angron's disappointed expression, the self-hatred and pain within the Legion also increase.

If the Primarch were to actually commit the Eleventh Purge within the Legion, it might actually make things easier for them.

How could we possibly let Lord Angron show that disappointed expression?!

Not only that.

Angron showed absolutely no mercy to those mortal Imperium bureaucrats who reeked of sourness and decay.

This undoubtedly increased the Primarch's prestige within the Legion.

As soldiers who fought tooth and nail against the enemy on the front lines, they had long been fed up with these bureaucrats who only knew how to bully and oppress others!

Even after Ullanor, they directly controlled the High Lords of Terra of Terra, and the Primarch and the Legiones Astartes had almost no say in the Great Crusade except for their military functions.

Everything depends on the whims of those bureaucrats.

In this frustrating situation, only Angron would stand by the warriors and help them vent their anger.

The once loyal War Hounds, now even more loyal World Eaters, need no words; they remain steadfast in their loyalty to the great Red Sand Angel Angron as he fights in the east and west.

The differences between Angron and the mortal bureaucrats go far beyond this.

Many times, when the human world was originally willing to submit to the Imperium, Angron would order his World Eaters to attack them just as they were about to negotiate and sign an agreement with the Imperium.

In Angron's view, many of the human pocket interstellar Imperium were actually the result of slavery. Although these worlds were ruled by humans, under the control of nobles, the treatment of the slave laborers at the bottom level was no different from that of humans enslaved by Xenos.

Sometimes it's even worse—the way they treat each other as fellow humans is sometimes worse than that of Xenos!

This infuriated Angron.

To the Imperium bureaucrats, the signing of the agreement might be seen as a great return to the human world.

But in Angron's eyes, this was nothing more than the damned slave owners trying to use the Tithe paid by the Imperium of Man as yet another bargaining chip to consolidate their power.

He could almost see that after joining the Imperium of Man, those nobles, with the protection of the Planetary Defence Force, the presence of the Adeptus Arbites, and the presence of the Adeptus Mechanicus, would become even more unscrupulous in their exploitation, oppression, and manipulation, going to extremes.

Angron could sense it.

He could always sense those emotions.

The despair, pain, and sorrow of the lower classes, and the greed, hypocrisy, and selfishness of those who outwardly submit but inwardly scheme for greater gains.

He could not tolerate this—it was simply impossible for the World Eaters to tolerate!

"Thirty-four Terra!!!"

Ignoring the officers' advice and disregarding the warnings from the Adeptus Mechanicus, Angron still chose to fight.

Even if it means fighting to the death, he will fight!

"I want you to conquer this world within thirty-four Terra hours!!!"

The war began.

Not just in one world, but in many similar human worlds in the past, Angron resolutely launched wars even when the other side was willing to surrender.

It was said to be for the liberation of all mankind, for the protection of ancient scientific and technological knowledge, and for the greater interests of expeditions.

All

Aren't those people at the bottom of society, those slaves, human beings?

Only by eliminating all those hypocritical bureaucrats can humanity truly regain its freedom!

Angron's legions are bloodthirsty.

Whether encountering the human world or the Xenos world, aside from the almost unconditional surrender, the only path is to fight.

However, at the same time, Angron is also able to obtain the Legion Primarch who have the most support among the inhabitants of those who have descended upon human planets.

These two things seem contradictory.

But precisely in this messed-up world, in this messed-up world, this is indeed true.

In this situation, although Angron was heavily criticized within the Imperium bureaucracy, he was ultimately able to coexist peacefully with them, leaving all decisions to the Primarch.

Just consider it as encountering a super war maniac. Although every battle leaves the planet in a mess, it also makes it convenient for the Adeptus Mechanicus to carry out construction and renovation, doesn't it?

However, this fragile balance became even more fragile after Fulgrim was elected Warmaster and the Emperor withdrew from the Great Crusade.

In order to support the Webway, a large amount of resources were allocated to various worlds as Tithe.

Especially in those worlds liberated by Angron — the Primarch had promised them that from that day forward there would be no more tyrants or slave owners!

But what if they have to pay Tithe?

"Loke, I tried. I tried to have serious conversations with my father's bureaucrats. I tried to convince myself that these were necessary evils that had to be carried out for a greater purpose in the future."

"But I simply cannot convince myself!"

"Our expedition is not for the liberation of humanity at all; it's for gathering resources for my golden-haired father!"

"My lord, perhaps the Emperor has deeper considerations."

After a moment of silence, Loke offered him this advice.

"Yes, haha, it's a deeper consideration."

"Do you really believe that my golden father wouldn't lie to us? He even shut us out of the High Lords of Terra, and I don't even know what he's doing."

As for the purpose of collecting resources, it was to serve the Great Crusade.

That's kind of funny.

When the Great Crusade first began, it was only with the limited resources of the two barren planets, Mars and Terra, located in the Solar System, that a fleet could be assembled to travel across the star system and launch expeditions everywhere.

Why is it that now that the Imperium has a world with millions of humans, it needs even more resources to invest?

Although no one refuted the Emperor's claims, everyone tacitly agreed that the collection of the Tithe was for some far more sinister purpose.

"I don't know if he was a tyrant or not, but everything he did proves that he was no different from the most brutal and greedy tyrant."

Angron sat alone at the bow of the ship, his eyes filled with bitterness and helplessness.

In Nuceria, he truly broke free from the shackles of fate and became a free man through his own strength.

But what he is experiencing now, what he is facing, is it really what he truly desires?

A person who is clear-headed must bear the pain of being clear-headed.

Beep!

The Insurgent sounded its alarm.

Enemy attack!

"It's the mid-deck! We've been compromised, but there are no external signals."

Let's deal with the problem at hand first.

Angron snapped out of his reverie, grabbed his two chainsaw axes, and charged toward the deck behind him.

The deck of the Insurgent was stained with blood.

The flagship's interior, usually a metallic gray with a slight smell of engine oil, is now covered by a strong stench of blood.

A bizarre monster from another world, led by a grotesque creature resembling a demon, faced a hail of bullets from the World Eaters, seemingly unaffected.

Under the deafening battle cries, those with weaker willpower immediately turned bloodshot and unconsciously began to fight their allies with all their equipment.

He was engulfed in an uncontrollable rage.

Limbs flew everywhere, blood splattered. The demon didn't even need to lift a finger; people had already descended into a cycle of self-destruction.

"Closer! Switch to melee weapon!"

The remaining World Eaters, Astartes, continued to be defeated by the demon's immense power—even when damaged by melee weapons, they would recover at an astonishing rate.

Attacks from the World Eaters were generally ineffective.

As yet another warrior was easily flung away, only one warrior in blue and white power armor remained, struggling against the enemy's onslaught on the blood-soaked deck.

"Kearn! What's going on?"

Seeing that things were going badly, Angron quickly stepped forward and helped him block the powerful blow.

"It's you?"

After separating the two, Angron frowned as he turned to look at the strange creature.

The strange creatures that appeared during the turbulent Warp journey were ones he had seen before.

Right there in Nuceria, in the vast wasteland of blood and fire, between the bronze fortress and the throne.

He had seen far too many evil creatures like this.

"You filthy creature, you don't belong here."

"That's right, Angron, you and I are both Blood God, we were originally brothers."

"Shut up! I would never associate with a filthy creature like you!"

Enraged, Angron raised his twin axes high, the clanging of the chainsaws drowning out all other noise.

"Angron, why must we fight each other?"

The demon withstood Angron's attack with its tough claws, still uttering blasphemous words.

"You and I both know who is the eternal oppressor of mankind, and who can symbolize infinite fairness."

That's right.

Angron can't fool himself.

The Emperor's Imperium of Man and the Great Crusade were both built on lies.

But in this universe, is there even one place that has the right to call itself righteous?

No.

Even after serving the Imperium of Man for so long, Angron had to bitterly admit that the Imperium of Man itself was built on the oppression of his fellow human beings.

He did not receive the fairness he expected.

The answer is quite obvious.

Kill them all, wouldn't that be fair?

Kill!

Kill kill kill kill kill kill!

"That's right, that's right!"

Seeing that things were going well, the demon pressed his advantage. "You already know your own destiny—to be for great destruction."

Butcher's Nails might suppress Angron's thoughts.

But when the Imperium becomes so miserable that even a conscious Angron feels disgusted, will he really make a different choice than before?

After witnessing the tragic fate of the Imperium of Man?

Is it not a form of mercy to give them a quick and painless death?

Angron has the ability to absorb the negative emotions of others, and he is very empathetic to those who suffer.

But what if these people's wish is for those in power to die alongside them?

"When will this day end? We will both perish!"

The fear of death becomes insignificant in the face of hatred.

This Imperium of Man is a world filled with suffering and despair.

Angron recalled walking through this Hive City, feeling the suffering of the desperate and weary workers who endured layers of exploitation by nobles under heavy taxes.

For his Emperor father's ideals, for a lie, how many lives have been lost in the shadows?

Does Angron truly deserve to call himself a liberator, rather than just another slave owner?

That was the pain of despair that came from the soul.

Silently, Angron slowly walked forward and stood before the Khorne Daemons.

"That's right, come, now that you have a true understanding of the world, come and receive the blessing of the Blood God."

"No! Sir, stop right now!!!"

Kearn tried to call out to Angron from behind, but it didn't even make the other man pause.

"I understand what you mean."

Angron spoke slowly.

"After experiencing so much, my choice is—"

Yes.

"Demon, I want to CS your masochistic tendencies!!!"

In an instant, boundless rage erupted from Angron's eyes, and the blade of his giant axe in his right hand slammed down on the demon's brass breastplate!

Open!

At that moment, Angron pressed the chainsaw's start button.

Hiss. Clang!

The chainsaw teeth, which had been stationary, began to frantically stir the brass, sparks flying as broken skin and flesh splattered with blood, making Angron's furious face appear even more terrifying.

At the same time, the blood in the entire room boiled like gushing lava, as if cheering for Angron.

"Tell your god to stop playing these ridiculous tricks in front of me!"

"It's your head now, but one day, my axe will shred and chop your damned cowardly Blood God brain to pieces!"

"Did you understand?!"

"Cough cough."

The demon seemed oblivious to this; its eyes, on the contrary, were now filled with pure admiration.

"So this is you, Angron."

"Blood God. Blood God admires your courage and fighting spirit. Although you have rejected us today, one day we will meet again in His arena."

"I believe that day will come."

"Pooh!"

Angron spat out a disdainful spit.

"Tell your filthy master that I will never be your prey, remember that!"

"Get out of here!!!"

Under the furious cleaving of Angron's giant axe, the demon and his body finally exploded, turning into a crimson rain of blood that splashed across every corner of the world.

It's all over.

Angron was indeed very dissatisfied with the Imperium of Man.

But he would never trust fools who wanted to enslave him forever and make him serve them like War Hounds.

Angron will always remember the teachings of his true father, Oenomaus.

The hatred for killing one's father is irreconcilable!

Since those damned creatures want Angron to join them, let them see Angron's resolve!

Angron wiped the blood off his twin axes, his expression grave.

Sooner or later, he will use this axe to truly complete his revenge!

The demons that infiltrated the Insurgent have all been killed. Although it was the first time they had encountered such a situation and the casualties were quite high, it still provided the World Eaters with some experience in dealing with demons in the future.

"Grown ups."

"I've told you many times, don't call me sir, just call Angron."

"Yes, Lord Angron, our ship was surrounded by Warp Storm just a short while ago and may not be able to return along the planned trajectory."

"Return trip? What's the point of returning?"

"Angron said impatiently."

"I will not join that filthy group of demons, but that does not mean I will continue to collude with my tyrannical father's Imperium."

"Enough! Humanity has suffered so much, paid so much for my father's so-called illusory dream, that's enough!"

"Go tell the people of the surrounding world that from now on, there will be no Tithe! If the Imperium of Man is only concerned with building an even bigger and brighter golden palace for the Emperor, then screw it!"

"Hahaha!"

Angron burst into hearty laughter.

This seems to be one of the few times he's shown a genuine, hearty smile since the Emperor returned to Terra.

"But what if those bureaucrats refuse to accept it?"

"If you can't accept it, then die. Why all the other talk?"

This Warp Storm acts as both a barrier and a form of protection.

For a long time to come, this place will no longer be plundered by my father.

Angron thought to himself as he looked out the window at the increasingly turbulent Warp Storm.

Angron and the World Eaters rose up and established themselves.

The 12th Legion World Eaters, and their Primarch Angron, withdraw from the Great Crusade today.

Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar.

Calth.

The battle on the Macragge's Honour turned back in favor of the Ultramarines after Kasgar joined the fray.

Countless Ultramarines, strong and warlike like Orks, followed the tunnel of the Pharos Beacon and arrived with Fulgrim on this battlefield where brothers were killing each other, continuing their fierce battle.

Even though approximately 100,000 Ultramarines had already perished, the Word Bearers controlled almost all of the major cities and strategic targets in the world of Calth.

But how many Space Marine Ultramarines left at this moment?

Two hundred thousand!

Two hundred thousand forever!

The army of the Word Bearers and the demons they summon are dwindling every moment, while Guilliman's offspring are endless!

When the first wave failed to kill Guilliman and the Ultramarines in time, it was basically a foregone conclusion that the Battle of the Kaus Lorgar end in failure.

Not to mention, there is a Loyalist among the Word Bearers.

"Quick! The auxiliary bridge is just ahead!"

Overjoyed, Angell Tai, transformed into his demon form, reunited with the Kasgar forces in front of the auxiliary bridge.

And then there's Hill, the Ultramarines, whose eyes widened at the sight of the Kasgar's Extending Spear.

"But what's next? Lorgar, that traitor, has already occupied the entire near-Earth orbit of Calth. Even if we could take control of the Macragge's Honour right now, what could we do?"

"There's much more we can do!" Hill immediately retorted. "Only after we have control of the ships can we free up those Tech-Priest to help us repair Calth's surface defense system!"

The equipment protecting Calth is hidden in an underground data engine—only allies of the Adeptus Mechanicus can remove enemy code from the system.

Only by removing the control of the master system from the Word Bearers and their Adeptus Mechanicus rebel allies can the Ultramarines regain control of the defense network.

"Good plan."

"But unfortunately, you are no longer qualified to carry it out."

But just then, an uninvited guest blocked their way.

"Lorgar?"

Why are you here?

He wasn't in good condition, but he was still able to stand in front of everyone wielding a giant hammer.

The fact that Lorgar is here means one thing.

Could it be that...

Guilliman lost another one-on-one match?