This is the Ultimate Insult

Skarbrand, a character brimming with prestige, yet forever relegated to the role of a stepping stone.

As a character with a noble Resin Model, Skarbrand is different from those roadside Daemon; in some ways, he can be compared to the Primarch.

Just like Kugath of Nurgle, Bloat-King, Slaanesh's Shalaxi the Disaster, who has been turned into Morgan's Carlos by Mordred, they are considered the best among the Greater Daemon.

Looking at Skarbrand, who was huddled in an alley with a bottle of high-proof Mushroom Wine, his wings and half of his skull burned to the ground, Mordred was certain he couldn't be mistaken.

After all, when he was captured by the Khorne and taken to their lair, Skarbrand was performing nearby. Not only did he wield his battle axes with great skill, but his unique appearance also left a deep impression on him.

"Lock, MAN?"

For some reason, perhaps because she drank a large amount of Mushroom Wine tainted with Fel Energy, or perhaps because Mordred's current state served as a meal replacement,

Skarbrand didn't act wildly as usual; instead, he shrank further into the corner.

"You've mistaken me for a demon. I am Angrath."

"You're talking nonsense! You can't just throw mud like that! I'd say I'm Yellow Skins, so tell me what happened to you? How did you end up like this?"

In a daze, Skarbrand's gaze pierced through the disguise and saw a flawless blond giant. That damned smile, that unfathomable power, was truly Kiya.

"Alas~ I've been banished! I can never return to the Demon Realm, my My Lord doesn't want me anymore."

Hearing that there was more juicy gossip to be had, Mordred immediately perked up and quickly pulled out a thick, large cigar and handed it over. These things were usually used by Atlas as the contents of Gas Bomb, but they were the perfect size in Skarbrand's hand.

As a cloud of smoke billowed out, Skarbrand, slumped in the alley, began to recount his experiences.

"It was a blood-soaked morning. As usual, I chopped off 888 Greater Daemon Skull and danced on the repulsive corpses of Daemonette."

"Dancing? I didn't know you were so talented."

"That's right, the Defeat Dance is our pride. For those purple-skinned trash who have no honor whatsoever, it's the best insult to them. It's just a pity that it was the beginning of my nightmare, because I was set up."

"Ah, this—"

Deep within the Warp, in the northwestern Khorne's Daemon World, the sounds of battle shook the heavens.

But today's Blood God was different from usual. He was even more furious and agitated, constantly hurling insults at a certain Golden Giant, cursing him as a despicable liar. And the same scene was happening simultaneously in three other demon realms.

Beneath the Brass Throne adorned with Myriad Skulls, countless Daemon fought desperately. But the performances that used to pique the interest of the kobold-headed man now seemed utterly useless in quelling his rage; he found even playing a couple of video games more satisfying. Coincidentally, the other three Chaos God felt the same way. However, after his impotent rage, the Khorne was thinking of playing a couple of video games, while the three cunning old devils were thinking of taking down his Dog's Leg.

As one of the most powerful figures in the Warp, Khorne can do whatever he wants. If he wants to play games, he can play games, and no one can stop him.

However, this behavior was witnessed by Skarbrand, the Chief Greater Daemon. Seeing his god indulging in frivolous pursuits again, an unnamed rage burned fiercely in Skarbrand's mind and became uncontrollable.

How Could our gods have become like this?

The Khorne Daemons was notorious for its physical prowess over its mental agility. Filled with rage and resentment, Skarbrand strode the Glory Road, slaying every Bloodthirsty Demon that stood in his way. Finally, he knelt before the Blood God, offering his advice:

"My Lord, the power in the game is all fake; it's not true power."

Instead of pursuing false glory online, let's wage a full-scale war simultaneously against the Dark Prince, against the Nurgle, against the Lord of Change, and against the Cursed.

However, Skarbrand's Declaration of War to All Nations did not impress the Khorne, who was already engrossed in the game and passionately exchanging insults with his opponent.

But the Khorne could only manage a couple of lines, and couldn't out-argue his opponent, Puma Yarou. Plus, he was already in a bad mood because the Emperor had stolen his flame and tricked him in public.

At that very moment, Skarbrand uttered the words "Let's wage war against the Cursed," which only made the Khorne more displeased.

Although the Four Merchants' goal was to bring about the birth of the Black King and restore this player, who should have been a part of the Great Game, to normalcy, the Emperor was truly despicable.

We jointly invested in the Primarch, and we agreed that you would get the lion's share, and we would only take half. But now you're going back on your word.

They left us none, and even stole the flame.

Even so, the Khorne was the most generous of the Four Merchants. Far from taking his anger out on his own people, he even responded to his most trusted "dipping sauce" provider Skarbrand, with a comment:

"Being powerful in a game is still being powerful. If I can't be powerful in a game, how can I be powerful in the real world? Go on."

My Skarbrand.

The Khorne said these words couldn't help but feel smug. After all, after Mordred's humiliation, he had resolved never to be a sycophant again. This art of controlling people was also part of the war strategy!

However, the more the Khorne acted this way, the angrier Skarbrand became, even believing that his god had gone mad, and this rage intensified with each of the three whispers.

"No, Master, we should have swept everything away and made the entire Empyrean hear our roar, instead of hiding here like a coward."

War, bloodshed, skulls—the killing needs no reason.

I never imagined I'd one day brandish a blade at you, but you're wrong, terribly wrong. If you can't learn from your mistakes and return to the right path...

Then let the Empyrean Burning Fiercely!

"Stop!" Mordred flicked away his cigarette butt, sat on Skarbrand's shoulder, patted the corner of his chair, and asked, "So this is what you meant by being set up? So Green Fatty, Purple Enchantress, and Blue Slime were all involved. You're really unlucky."

Did you slash the Khorne?

"No."

"No! Then what did you cut after all that talk?"

"I shattered the Divine Seal Terminal next to the throne with a single axe blow."

Upon hearing this, Mordred was speechless. Those three bastards were truly ruthless; it would have been better to have Skarbrand cut down the Khorne.

"If I'm not mistaken, did you turn around and back down? Then you got slapped by the Khorne and flew away for eight days and eight nights, ending up like this."

Skarbrand nodded, thinking to himself that as expected of the bastard son of the Blood God, he indeed possessed extraordinary wisdom. But then he immediately said that it was not only that, but only the first half of the nightmare. If he had only been banished, he would not have ended up in such a miserable state.

"There's actually a master? Tell me quickly, I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Hmph, whimpering, it's all meaningless now. I, Skarbrand, will never have the face to go home again. I'm Wasted Demon now."

This was the first time Mordred had ever seen Daemon cry; he even felt unparalleled sorrow and pain in Skarbrand's wailing.

But the more this was the case, the more curious he became about what had happened to cause a Chief Greater Daemon to become like this, his very existence almost shattered.

Wait, what? Fragmented!

Mordred looked closely and then discovered that Skarbrand was a chaotic mess, with red, Red, Green, Blue, and Purple Chaos Light flashing like an electric light bulb.

Just then, Vashtorr, who should have been focused on improving his skills, came over. When he saw Skarbrand, a hint of human disgust appeared in his eyes, as if he had seen something dirty.

"Mordred, my dear ally, get away from that filthy thing."

This is unbelievable! Vashtorr dared to mock Skarbrand as something filthy; isn't he afraid that this mighty Greater Daemon will chop him to pieces with one axe?

However, things didn't go as Mordred expected. Instead of rampaging through the entire street, Skarbrand seemed to shrink back into a corner, and the whole city dimmed a bit. If it dimmed any further, it might just disappear.

"Oh, it seems you didn't know. Come to think of it, you spend most of your time in the Material Universe. If you watched this Video Tape, you'd probably end up like me. But I don't recommend you watch this stuff; it's a bit too bizarre, even for beings like us."

Upon hearing the three words from the Video Tape, Skarbrand completely shrank into a ball, his previously struggling body rapidly shrinking, and he dared not even make a sound.

But curiosity killed the cat, Mordred's mind was now filled with that Video Tape, so he urged Vashtorr to play it for him.

After all, they were allies who had signed a contract, so Vashtorr certainly wouldn't refuse this small request. In fact, he was even a little impatient to see Mordred's expression next.

"Time is money, so let's fast forward. You can see every frame clearly anyway."

"Stop talking nonsense and hurry up. What haven't I, Mordred, seen?" Vashtorr remained silent, indicating that he had said it himself and that Vashtor shouldn't blame him later.

As a powerful melody began to play, seemingly an old song, three different-looking, differently colored Greater Daemon suddenly appeared in front of the camera.

Gua Yi Yi was actually not wearing any cloth, yet she was a powerful Chaos God Daemon.

Behind them stood Skarbrand's Kiya, suspended by several iron chains like roast geese!

Insults, endless insults! In this Sea of Souls time has no concept, existence is everything, and everything is for the sake of existence.

The Demon Three used every perverse and Most Evil method imaginable to humiliate every inch of Skarbrand's skin and every particle of his being.

He took out and tore to shreds everything—his dignity as a Greater Daemon and his glory as the Chief Greater Daemon.

By the time Mordred realized something was wrong, it was too late. For the first time, he hated his own eyes; the image, the ultimate insult, had hardened his mind.

Only Skarbrand's sobs and screams behind him proved that this ultimate insult was real.

"Guayi, don't look!"

So what do you mean?

"That's right!"

Vashtorr's emotionless voice rang in his ears, pronounced Skarbrand's death sentence. "There isn't just one Video Tape; it has been printed hundreds of millions of times and distributed throughout the Empyrean."

Mordred wanted to laugh, but couldn't quite manage it. He subconsciously took a step back, and that small step completely destroyed Skarbrand's last shred of dignity.

But soon, an alarm sounding in the Mind Network brought Mordred back to reality, preventing him from awkwardly picking his toes there.

Seeing this ID made Mordred feel uneasy.

The reason was that the one sending the telegram was none other than Tom.

"Father, you know what I want to say."