Twin Horses Join Forces, Quenching Thirst with a Fart

The earth is falling, the sky is burning.

Driven by the Chaos Gods, countless Daemon legions were pushed onto the battlefield.

This is the Webway, a hyperdimensional Dimensional Space transcending the Physical World and the Sea of Souls, a legacy from 65 million years ago known as the Old Ones.

Now, this world has become the cruelest meat grinder in the entire galaxy.

For Daemon, death is not their final destination; compared to humans who complete a game in one life, they are more like game players.

If we remove their ability to resurrect indefinitely, these so-called brutal Daemon will lose their greatest power.

The Burning Fiercely golden flames swept across everything in sight, and the vicious Fel Energy that devoured bones and marrow was splashed wantonly. If any Daemon was not careful, it would be doomed.

This is the main reason why the Webway War have been able to persist until now. The greatest credit goes to the Emperor, and secondly to Magnus is pressed onto the Golden Throne and acts as a battery.

With the Emperor's arrival, humanity had a chance to go to the underworld with the Daemon, but Chaos God are attracted to each other, and the Emperor, whose charisma lasted only three seconds, encountered the greatest crisis of his life.

Draconequus, the Daemon born from humanity's first murder, has appeared!

It is neither a wild Daemon of Chaos Undivided, nor a monster under the command of the Four Gods. Compared to generic Daemon, it is more like a byproduct of the human race, or more like Chaos chosen one of the Lord of Destruction.

The dagger that the elder brother used to murder his younger brother, the sword that revealed its true nature when the map was unrolled, the spear that pierced the son of God, the rope that hung from the mast, and even the guillotine that he modified before cutting off his own head—all bear the mark of Draconequus.

Throughout human history, it has grown stronger with the development of humankind, serving as a sword of Damocles hanging over all humanity, including Emperor.

The sudden attack nearly killed the Emperor. Even though he pulled out the demonic blade and had Endymion seal it with his body, he was still severely injured and collapsed.

"Khorne, fight my mother! If you've got the guts, fight me one-on-one!"

With one hand protecting his head and the other his waist, the Emperor, sprawled on the ground, crouched in a defensive position, enduring the brutal beating from the Khorne and the fat Nurgle.

"Pah! My mother died a long time ago, you wretched the Cursed, if I don't beat the shit out of you today, I'll write my name backwards."

"A one-on-one fight? Do you really think I'm brainless? I'm a strategist, not a barbarian like you. You've already lost."

"That's right, you bastard, you broke your promise and even dared to cheat an old comrade like me who's over 60 million years old. You deserve it, you're definitely going to get what's coming to you."

Caught between two enemies, the Emperor was powerless to resist. After being stabbed, he felt he could barely suppress the power of that great man. If things went wrong, the consequences would be worse than death.

Khorne and Nurgle gave the Emperor no chance to resist. Even though he was terrified, countless Chaos Daemons still rushed into the Webway under the command of the two Chaos God.

Meanwhile, the two powerful deities continued to surround the Emperor, engaging in a fierce battle of blows against the Yellow Skins. The fat man Nurgle, even pulled out his soup pot and began frantically pounding on the Emperor's head.

At the level of Chaos God, the battle is no longer about techniques and skills, but a pure clash of divine power. A seemingly ordinary soup pot can unleash 7,777 plagues with each strike, spreading decay and ruin at will.

The Khorne were even more formidable; their mere appearance caused not only Daemon but also the human Allied Forces to descend into a bloodthirsty frenzy, frantically Slaughter all the Daemon before them, making it difficult to discern which side the Khorne belonged to.

Even worse were the imperial Adeptus Custodes who accompanied the Emperor; they were all imprisoned in place, forced to watch as the Chaos God ravaged and humiliated their His Majesty to the extreme.

They weren't even given the chance to close their eyes and escape reality; their entire eyelids were cut off so they could witness their His Majesty being humiliated in front of everyone.

But none of that matters. What matters is that with the arrival of 2.9 deities, the human Webway, which was already a makeshift, poor man's dirt road, completely collapsed.

To prevent Holy Terra from becoming a second Eye of Terror, Magnus, who was placed on the Golden Throne, was truly unlucky.

One rod was already full, and now three rods are shoved into the Webway. It's only because Magnus has a good foundation that Magic Little Pony 'd be torn into three equal parts in an instant.

Her once rosy, purplish-red skin, glistening with a healthy sheen, had completely faded, and the muscles she had painstakingly built up were gradually atrophying, a sight that saddened all of Thousand Sons.

"Father, please hold on! We've already set up the Psychic Power network. In just ten more minutes, we can share the burden with you."

Kāyān, where the hell are you? Burn those Psyker for Father!

"Don't rush us! This is already the third batch."

Ahriman, who remained in the underground palace, directed the thousand Thousand Sons to set up the Psychic Power array, while Kāyān, whom he was urging, was coordinating the Psyker who served as fuel.

Though they were called firewood, these Psyker were all sacrificing themselves voluntarily, willing to give everything for the future of the empire.

Even so, the current situation is merely a case of drinking poison to quench thirst. In order to stabilize the Webway, countless Psyker need to burn their souls every single second.

"Hmph hmph hmph, ahhhhhh!"

"Father, I can't hold on much longer."

At this point, the Psychic Power phone call didn't matter anymore. The Emperor, who received the message, was speechless with bitterness. He cursed that stupid God-Emperor countless times in his heart, and in the end, he could only say, "Hang in there, I believe in you."

"What a load of rubbish!" Magnus felt a slideshow flashing before his eyes, and he was about to shatter.

Fortunately, the Thousand Sons Legion did not abandon their studies while training their muscles. They said ten minutes meant ten minutes, but those ten minutes felt so long that Magnus felt he might not be able to hold on until then.

But at this crucial moment, a voice rang in Magnus's ear:

I wonder if we can handle it if I'm included.

"Old Ma!"

While pleasantly surprised, Magnus was more worried. With Malcador burden, he could indeed hold out until the legion's reinforcements arrived.

Even for a muscular and powerful man like him, sitting on this Golden Throne, his body would repeatedly oscillate between destruction and rebirth. And Malcador?

Magnus admitted that Malcador was no less skilled in Psychic Power abilities than him, and that if he were to fight him unrestrained, he might be severely humiliated. However, unless Malcador could be as unreasonable as the Emperor, given his small stature, Malcador was afraid he would be beaten to death.

However, Magnus underestimated the composure and calmness of the older generation of artists.

As rousing music, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, began to play, the Arch-Magos the seal ripped off his hood and raised his hand to his forehead.

One second he was a withered old man who needed to use a cane, and the next he was a silver-haired hunk with a face full of power, looking like the kind of peerless expert who was very good at double jumps.

Seeing this, Magnus quickly gave up half of his buttocks, and Malcador, without any hesitation, took up the space for both of them, sitting on the Golden Toilet together with the one-eyed Sunburned Ogryn.

"Well!"

"Ah!"

"Um!"

"Yeah!"

With the addition of new members, Magnus no longer had to emit his foul howls, but even so, the two still blushed and let out eerie groans that left much to the imagination.

Just when the two horses, who had held out for a full ten minutes, finally saw the Thousand Sons Legion merge into the Golden Throne, the pressure suddenly eased, and the situation steadily improved.

All those with Psychic Power heard a Roared seemed to flap its wings:

"Father, I'm here to help you!"

Before the person arrived, the voice preceded them. Just as everyone was wondering which Primarch was the first to arrive, Atlas, sensing something was wrong, had already made his escape.

"Boom!"

With a series of violent explosions, a total of 130 Battle Moon crashed into the Webway from behind the demon horde, instantly wiping out half of the Daemon army and killing countless unfortunate souls in the process.

But that's not all; following the Battle Moon is the Chaos Star Mardon.

Amidst the frenzied howls of countless Legion Demons, Mardon, at an uncanny angle, slammed into Nurgle himself, who was sitting atop the Emperor.

Both armies were stunned, wondering who this deity was.

"Waaaagh!!"

"I will live up to the Legion's expectations!"

"For the Four-Armed Emperor! Crush them!"

"My darlings, they're all my darlings, hand them all over now!"

"Evil!"

Accompanied by all sorts of wailing and howling, a torrent of emerald green Daemon surged forth, crashing violently against the demonic tide as soon as it appeared.

The most eye-catching of them all are the two baccarat legion Great Commander.

With Flap Wings and Soar and wielding a warhammer, the Second Sun Vashtorr recognized Huang as his father and leaped into the air, smashing down hard on Nurgle.

The other Great Commander is Saffrin, the Three Suns, who has four arms and a long tail and wields the weapons "Slaughter" and "Massacre," and is revered by the Burning Legion as Little Mordred!

"Vashtorr, what are you doing, you bastard?"

"Shut up, you fat bastard! Don't insult my extraordinary wisdom with your nonsense. If you dared to kill my My Father, then step over my dead body."

Vashtorr was at least somewhat polite, but Saffrin was much more blunt, pointing at the Khorne and launching into a tirade of abuse:

"You wouldn't believe it, my My Lord, I'm back. You stood by me when I was in my most difficult time, and even kicked me out of the house like a dog."

You betrayed me first!

Now, I'm going to take back everything I've lost.

As soon as the two powerful legion warriors appeared, everyone—human, demon, and lizard alike—looked at the man lying on the ground. Even the two supreme Chaos God looked at the Emperor with disbelief.

"That's right, I did it!"

The battlefield situation reversed instantly. With the help of two powerful legion commanders, even though Vashtorr was brutally defeated by Nurgle and Saffrin was beaten to a Khorne, it was better than nothing. The Emperor finally had a chance to catch his breath.

But the current Emperor, although he sits halfway on that divine throne, is ultimately not the God-Emperor whom the Imperium of Man has prayed for for ten thousand years, and is simply incapable of fighting two against one.

The situation fluctuated wildly, ultimately turning into a war of attrition where neither side could gain the upper hand.

Just as the Webway War was reaching its climax, Nurgle and Khorne, who had previously been incredibly arrogant, shamelessly fled, leaving only the Chaos Daemons continuing to burrow inside as always.

This sudden turn of events was baffling, and even the Emperor couldn't understand why. But since they had come, how could he not kill them?

With the departure of the two Chaos God, a certain blue birdman who had been hiding behind the scenes began their true plan.