Practiced the body to resemble a crane's form, unafraid of orcs strangling the neck

Comparing people is a recipe for disaster; comparing goods is a recipe for disaster. The true extent of the Emperor's power has always been a mystery.

According to Warp rumors, the Cursed made a secret deal with the Four Gods even before the Primarch was born.

The details are currently unknown, but ever since the Emperor returned from the Warp, he has been implementing the Primarch Project, inexplicably bringing back 20 Lesser Gods.

There are also rumors that this isn't the case at all. I am the true and upright Lord of Change, the Cursed only succeeded in raising funds by selling hooks. Otherwise, why would the Four Gods trade with him?

However, this insider who called himself the Lord of Change was soon exposed; he was not a Tzeentch Daemon at all, but a Slaanesh witch who had infiltrated the Crystal Maze.

Rumors spread like wildfire. All sorts of unofficial histories emerged, making it a new era of flourishing literature and art.

But in all these bizarre and unofficial histories, there is one thing that everyone, demons, and all sorts of strange things agree on: the Emperor was strong enough.

Regardless of whether the Golden Giant can directly confront the four oldest beings, the Emperor is indeed at the table, and the other beings don't even have the qualifications to play against the Four Merchants.

Indeed, even the Emperor would be injured by a direct hit from a naval cannon in the Physical World, and might even be reduced to half Yellow Skins. His strength lies in his Psychic Power and his karmic space.

Even if Mordred has stacked up all her stats, she will still be shattered into pieces if hit by a ship's cannon, just like a clueless villain thinking that Superman has low magic resistance.

An ordinary person's physical and magical resistance is equal to one, while a superhuman's physical and magical resistance starts at 10,000, and their magic resistance is at least 3,000. You expect a mage who has just learned the fourth-level Fireball Spell and doesn't even know how to use Charge Slash or Whirlwind to fight a superhuman?

Damn it! Not every mage calls themselves Holy Lord. Do you think you can win? Of course not!

Moreover, the Golden Giant is proficient in both physical and magical combat, wielding the Emperor's Sword with incredible skill and power, making it impossible for ordinary Primarchs to get close to him. Even Mordred was constantly being beaten down.

And you're telling me that this incredibly powerful man, who can hold the sun and moon in his hands and pluck stars from the sky, and who's always wrestling with Khorne in their locker room, was choked by Orks and was about to die?

"They've really lost all sense of shame!" The outspoken Angron finally uttered these words from the bottom of his heart.

"Hush! Angron, how dare you speak so disrespectfully about our father! Do you have any desire to live? Horus, is that it?"

The speaker was none other than Russ, who was feigning ignorance while knowing the truth. Upon hearing this, all the Primarchs looked at Horus, who had arrived before them, putting him in an awkward position. Finally, he could only manage to utter:

"That's not true! I haven't betrayed the Second Imperium! Mordred, Zhuang Sen! And you, Ambition Guilliman, you must believe me!"

Sanguinius, why are you just staring? Say something!

"." The Great Angel remained silent, but his cunning gaze swept over Zhuang Sen, who looked utterly dejected. The meaning was crystal clear: Brother, you've been tricked by Old Man Huang.

While the Primarch was slacking off, the Emperor wasn't having an easy time either, thinking, "Why aren't my good sons here yet? If I wait any longer, this Orks will be killed by me."

"My good brother, please don't die! Just hold on a little longer and it'll be over!"

An insult, the ultimate insult! The Ork Emperor Urg had never been insulted like this in his entire life. Why don't you, you despicable, shameless Humanoid Xenos, just die?

In terms of individual strength, Urg, as the chosen one of the Golems and who is on the verge of reverting to Ancient Orcs, is not afraid of the Emperor. In fact, with the support of the planet's Waaagh Energy, he is even slightly superior.

But the Emperor had no sense of martial ethics. When someone tried to deceive and ambush this 800-year-old comrade, he immediately unleashed his ultimate weapon, the Eternal Night Maze, which cut off the internet access for the entire Ulano world of Orks.

Instead of engaging in direct combat, they launched Orbital Bombardment while the Planetary Shields were ineffective, using the combined firepower of the Emperor's Dream and the Vengeful Spirit to thoroughly ravage the entire planet.

You chase, I run; you run, I chase. I wiped out 80% of the Orks on the entire planet on the spot.

Even so, the Emperor did not engage in a one-on-one duel with Urg. Instead, he led the Adeptus Custodes Guard and the Moon Wolves in a guerrilla war, specifically targeting the Ork Boy who served as the Waaagh Energy batteries for the Ulva.

It wasn't until the Expeditionary Force arrived that they pretended to find Urg, who had been weakened to the extreme.

Urg would swear on his own impressive teeth that the shameless man in front of him had injured himself. Even though he was currently choking the Emperor, he couldn't move him at all, and the Emperor had been deprived of even the ability to speak and expose his lies.

Others might not notice, but Mordred could. He was so angry he almost laughed. Seeing that Horus was reluctant to step forward and the rest of the legions were carrying out their final cleanup, he didn't move either.

In any case, whoever gets anxious will be the one who feels awkward.

"Brothers, we never expected that Orks to be so powerful. He was fighting Father to a standstill, and we are all seriously injured and unable to come to the King's aid."

"Since things have come to this, let's play a game of cards first!"

"That makes sense. To be honest, my paronychia flared up, and I just tripped over a small pebble. Now it's too late for treatment."

It's a damn thing that Primarch cause paronychia, and even if you get paronychia, it's impossible for it to be so severe as to be incurable. But that's just an excuse, and nobody cares whether it's reasonable or not. Everyone is just talking about their own strange and complicated illnesses.

Mordred pulled out a tablecloth and spread it on the floor, and also took out a lot of snacks and fruits. After everyone was seated, everyone looked at Horus was still standing there dumbfounded.

"I--"

"Stop talking nonsense, are you coming or not?"

Looking at his good brother sitting with him, he glanced at his father in the distance, who was still being choked by Orks and screaming for help.

The Emperor has a thousand Thousand Faces. In Horus's eyes, the Emperor's image may not be that Golden Giant who is 5 meters tall. He may very well be a benevolent being with half of his hair tied in a braid.

After a brief hesitation, Horus finally sat down:

"My father probably won't die anytime soon. Actually, I told him a long time ago that this was not good, but he just wouldn't listen."

Zhuang Sen, didn't you want to be the Warmaster the most? Why don't you go over there in a bit?"

Zhuang Sen definitely wanted to become Warmaster; he dreamed of it. But that was because he wanted to prove himself, to prove that he was his father's proud son, and also to give the Dark Angels, who had been doing such dirty work for so long, an explanation.

Glory and favor are what all Space Marine pursue throughout their lives, and they are also the goals pursued by Primarchs.

Looking at the Emperor, who had been lying in bed for half an hour but hadn't died yet, the Lion King felt that if he went over now, he might be disrespected by all his brothers, something he, as the eldest brother, couldn't accept.

"I won't go. I want to become Warmaster with honor and integrity. You, Horus, are a gentleman, and I, Zhuang Sen, am neither a villain nor Ambition person."

Seeing everyone instinctively looking at him, Guilliman, who was comparing the differences between Serenity Coconut Milk and Calth Coconut Milk, raised his head, surveyed the area, and then looked at Chagatai, who was the last to return:

"Why are you looking at me like that? So you think I'm the only Ambition? Or should I leave now? Mother's waiting for us to eat."

The Khan had been offended was completely dumbfounded. So you think I'm easy to bully? Someone like you would be burned alive on the grasslands.

Guilliman's words were like a whisper, instantly breaking the defenses of some Primarchs. Zhuang Sen immediately pulled out his Knight's Crest, declaring, "I have a mother too! What are you trying to do, Chagatai? Come on, let's have a one-on-one fight!" "A one-on-one fight it is! Don't think I'm afraid of you just because you have a big beard. I'm incredibly strong now."

And so, an extremely bizarre scene unfolded: the Space Marine were carrying out their final cleanup of the Orks, the Master of Mankind locked in a fierce battle with the Ork Emperor in the distance, while the Primarchs, gathered together, were feasting and drinking around Zhuang Sen and Guilliman.

Even the honest, unassuming black man sat on the ground and started playing cards, specifically Atlas's latest Monster Heroes game, and it seemed like he was in a winning position.

"Item Card: GUTS Wing, combined with my character card 'Death Pilot,' activates the skill 'Crash,' and returns to the Great Tomb of Nazarick."

According to the rules, I can summon a monster named Tiga from the extra row.

6+ Special Protection, activates Red Happy Form, attack power doubled. I won this round, pay up!

Without giving Vulkan a chance to show off, Fulgrim played his deck:

"Field Card: R'lyeh Graveyard, use Time Rewind to summon the generated monster Camilla, paired with the weapon Particle Light Whip, and I win!"

"Impossible! My summoned creatures are heavily protected; you can't even break through their defenses."

Despite his seemingly honest and unassuming demeanor, Vulkan is a man of principle; when it comes to games, he's all about winning and he's unwilling to lose.

The two argued back and forth, but neither could reach a clear conclusion, so they could only look to Mordred, who was acting as the GM, standing to the side.

After glancing at Vulkan's dark skin, Mordred took out calipers, calculated the attack range according to the military chart, and finally announced the result of the battle:

"Camilla uses a whip, which has a double advantage against Vulkan. Fogg wins!"

"Yay!"

"What? This isn't fair!"

"Protest denied. Fulgrim is a factory owner, which in ancient times would be equivalent to a farmer. He already has a detrimental effect on you. The past is the past, the present is the present. Don't underestimate him. Accept your loss."

Vulkan felt that Mordred was discriminating against him, but Mordred set the rules, so he had no choice but to reluctantly toss the Gold Dog Coins in his hand to Phoenix.

Before anyone could even switch players and start the next round, a loud shout suddenly came from afar, "Father, I'm here to help you!"

A flash of lightning appeared, and Perturabo, who had appeared out of nowhere, leaped onto the Emperor, snatched the Emperor's Sword from his hand, and plunged it into Urg's chest without a word.

For some reason, the Ork Emperor Urg suddenly wore a relieved smile, as if he were saying something to Perturabo, who wanted to kill him:

"Thank you, you unknown fat shrimp, I hereby bestow upon you the Warmaster of Ulano. Behead me, behead me!"