Burn, Nuceria.

Ever since humanity first set foot on the stars, the seeds of curiosity have been sown, and everyone wants to see what the outside world is like.

However, the distances between the Stellaris are like insurmountable chasms; without faster-than-light travel, even sending a single message would take years.

The daylily buds aren't just cold, they're completely rotten!

Unable to defeat them despite their best efforts, the pitiful, terrifying upright apes could only grit their teeth and struggle in the vicinity of the Solar System before the 18K, until the Warp Engine, which had been declared scrapped, was proposed again.

Only then did humanity realize that the path to "salvation" was right in their hands, and immediately began a vigorous era of interstellar colonization, like a pack of wild dogs that had broken free.

Thanks to the non-linear time inherent in Warp, the travel time that would normally take more than a decade was compressed to an extreme level, making its superior performance far superior to that of a sublight-speed engine.

Especially in the era before the Slaanesh were born, the Warp, while not as peaceful as the fairytale world it was War in Heaven, was still relatively stable.

Humans, in their ecstasy, never considered developing other methods of faster-than-light travel, and have been using Warp Engine ever since.

Everyone says the Warp is a cesspool, but Warp Voyage is so fast that all its drawbacks are no longer a problem. What's wrong with being a Snow Eater? Some races aren't even qualified to eat it.

The Tau are the most qualified to speak on this matter. Before the warning signal even reached their homeland, the Imperial Fleet arrived first, and it was none other than the T'au's mortal nemesis—the Lunar-class Cruiser.

In other words, not many fleets came. If only a few more Lunar-class Cruiser had arrived, the absurd plot of the Raven Guard Chapter Master being beheaded by Tau Commander wouldn't have happened.

Looking at the empty Hive City of the nest city, Mordred, still unable to find a way to restore it to its original state, began to have wild thoughts again. He discovered that there wasn't a single person in Nuceria.

Atlas is gone, the Ultramarines are gone, even the humans corrupted by Chaos have all vanished. Where have they all gone?

And this foul-smelling smog obscures the view even if Mordred stares with all six of his eyes wide open.

"That's strange."

Mordred, who was unable to contact anyone, believed that this was a time deficit caused by his walk in the Demon Realm of Khorne, similar to the day in the sky and the year in "Westward". He didn't know how long he had been wandering, and moss had grown on the ground.

Although Mordred knew her offspring were unreliable, she believed they still loved her and were perhaps still fighting the enemy, just too busy to spare the time.

Seeing that no one was around, the Carnifex, which had grown to two hundred meters tall, stretched out its long tail, scraped off a layer of moss, and brought it to its mouth. Mordred had never tasted moss before, so this was a good opportunity to sample it.

"Ugh, this smells wrong!" The monster, who was frantically licking its tail, paused for a moment, then frowned in a very human-like manner. "Why do I smell meat coming from this moss? This doesn't seem to be moss."

"Forget it, let me light a cigarette. I can use this moss to grow a big mushroom."

Overjoyed Mordred was unaware that a full month had passed since he lost his senses, and the space naval battle had long since ended.

Atlas had even plundered the entire battlefield.

As for why Mordred was the only one left on the surface, it was entirely because this bastard was possessive of his food, making the plan to use the anti-gravity engine to take him away completely impossible.

The green paste-like substance is not moss at all, but a thick organic soup melted and decomposed by the Virus Bomb, while smog is flammable and explosive methane.

Guilliman wouldn't do something so despicable. The only ones who would think of using Virus Bomb to blow up their own Primarch are probably Atlas and his ilk.

Looking at Nuceria, which had fully fermented and whose entire atmosphere had turned into flammable matter, the Primarch did not make a move, despite repeated assurances from the Atlas leadership.

"I truly regret believing your nonsense. Are you sure Mordred won't be blown up? Angron, you'd better be my witness!"

"Don't look at me, I don't know anything. You were the one who dropped the Virus Bomb. It has nothing to do with me." A slightly somber voice came from the coffin, shirking responsibility for the murder of the Warmaster.

Perhaps because of the two nails planted in his body, Angron has miraculously found a balance between a perverted succubus and a brainless butcher, exuding a kind of lazy, retired old cadre vibe.

Once safe, Angron immediately had Guilliman fetch a coffin made of Adamantium, and then bound his upper body with chains, making him look like a mummy.

He was left with only a hole for breathing and eating, and two legs for moving.

For Angron, a ruthless man who chose to drive the Butcher's Nail into his own skull to avoid falling into depravity, mere imprisonment was far too easy.

If it weren't for Guilliman holding him back, Angron would have wanted to cut off his own limbs to ensure that even if he went berserk, he wouldn't accidentally hurt others, highlighting how he didn't consider himself human.

Seeing the Primarch rambling on again, Goff, as the first in line to the Atlas throne, assured him:

"Don't worry, Your Highness, our father Invincible Under Heaven. He can't be killed even by naval gunfire. This is just Virus Bomb, not Cyclone Torpedo. You're really Malcador the Emperor!"

It's only because Guilliman has a good temper and knows that everyone at Atlas is mentally unstable; otherwise, the Glory Guard would have gone up and started beating people up without him even having to say a word.

"Yes, yes, Father, putting everything else aside, I, Tom, am the most qualified to speak on the matter of being indestructible. We Atlas have a special tactic of using Primarchs to draw fire."

Moreover, Virus Bomb don't explode on their own; they require High Temperature to detonate, at least at the Plasma level, so they're very safe!

"It's only because the Cyclone Torpedo is so precious that otherwise, this filthy planet would have been shattered long ago."

"Boom~"

Before Tom could finish speaking, everyone saw a Giant Mushroom Cloud rise from Nu Star, instantly igniting the planet's atmosphere and sweeping across the entire planet with unstoppable force.

But the sharp-eyed Guilliman noticed that a black dot seemed to be rapidly approaching, heading straight for the Glory of Macragge, and that thing was carrying something in its mouth.

In the blink of an eye, within seconds, the Black Shadow shape had broken free of the planet's gravity and crashed into the ship's deck, leaving only its still-smoking torso writhing outside.

The sudden depressurization of the ship's cabin caused its protective armor to activate, and a thick layer of Adamantium plating slammed into Mordred's neck, nearly severing his head.

Looking at Goff, who was only a few meters away from him, Mordred, who had just eaten a mouthful of armor, subconsciously swallowed and grinned foolishly, baring his large teeth:

"MAN! Children, I'm back! Where are Guilliman and that bastard Angron? Why are there two feet on the ground?"

(#°口°)(._.)

"Not good."