Guilliman is still on his way

The brutal meat grinder continues.

On one side was the Chaos Demon Army, which had amassed an entire desolate world by farming troops in the void; on the other side was Atlas, who had gone completely mad and grew stronger by devouring living souls.

The Orks genes originating from Mordred spread rapidly within every Atlas, propelling the entire legion madly toward a path of inhumanity.

Fel Energy corruption, Mind Network, Star God Power, Daemon pact, Waaaagh Energy...

The Abomination is not only Atlas's flagship, but it also embodies the Primarch of Mordred, the Primarch.

Scraps from all the Primarch, blasphemous legacies left over from the Unification Wars, fragments of Cosmic Star God, and the remains of Orks. Even the Emperor who created Mordred didn't know exactly how many fragments he had stuffed into him.

Not to mention Mordred's bizarre, indiscriminate appetite; that pot of thick soup alone was already an extremely demanding task, and she didn't even spare the pot.

These bizarre and strange things, when put together, should have exploded long ago, but instead, they formed a strange balance within Mordred's body, dissolving into nutrients he needed for his growth.

The once boundless green grassland gradually disappeared, and in its place emerged a bizarre Mycelial Mat that seemed to be alive, dragging every piece of flesh and blood with its tentacles. Then one after another, the bulges burst open, spewing out an army of Lizardmen.

If you don't have trypophobia, you might even spot a few naked Atlas among the Lizardmen. There are men and women, humans and beasts, and even dogs.

The boundary between life and death gradually blurred. Souls that should have died no longer rushed to the Sea of Souls, but were bound by Fel Energy and reborn from the Mycelial Mat.

Under the baptism of intense warfare, more and more Lizardmen began to revert to their ancestral evolution, and a large number of giant individuals with a body size exceeding 5 meters appeared.

The Waaaagh field, almost tangible, is inextricably intertwined with the Fel Energy mist, protecting not only the Lizardmen but also every Atlas who embraces Fel Energy.

This caused Atlas, who could still be called human, to exhibit some peculiar reactions that were only seen in Orks.

This applies to ground warfare, and it also applies to space and naval warfare.

Atlas, who should have had the naval advantage, encountered 3,000 Soul of Vengeance and was completely overwhelmed.

Even the Abomination's keel was punched with a large hole, making it drafty when it ran.

We don't have a single good ship left after all this fighting. It's only thanks to the mushrooms that we're able to stick the warships together like glue; otherwise, they would have been shattered long ago.

Repairing a warship with mushrooms is like rubbing science in the ground, but as my My Thinking Power grows stronger, this phenomenon has indeed occurred with Atlas.

For example, as a commander of a space naval battle, Goff is now completely destroyed, in a physical sense. Half of his body is stuck to the deck, while the other half is on the resurrection ramp.

But everyone believed that Goff was not dead, so even if Goff's mouth was blown off, he could still issue orders.

Having assimilated life and devoured souls, Mordred, now one with the entire planet, greedily craves everything, and this energy will nourish Atlas.

Otherwise, Atlas's legion alone wouldn't have been able to hold out for so long.

Jill had long forgotten how many times she had died. The first Killed in Action was when she was stomped to death by Titan, and the second time she died was when she was torn apart by Heavy Bolter from the enemy.

All sorts of bizarre ways of dying appeared frequently. After the initial panic, all that remained was numbness. Jill even had the composure to watch the brain matter flowing out of her own skull.

When resurrection is no longer the privilege of Daemon, human courage will be infinitely stimulated. After all, there is no punishment for death, so the only fun is fighting.

Tearing away the mycelium that blocked her view, Jill, completely naked, wiped the slime off her body. A drop of Mordred's blood burned wildly within her, and following the guidance of the Mind Network, she arrived beside a Mushroom Knight.

Beside him were 3,000 Lizardmen berserkers, the legion Jill needed to command this time, and these Lizardmen would soon be turned into biomass again.

As the war entered its 169th day and night, even Atlas was running out of ammunition and food. They had to find weapons and ammunition on the ground, let alone clothes to cover themselves.

So what if we're naked? We're all the same. Shame is meaningless now. We'll kill as many as we can. We might not even get our clothes before we're blown up by a cannon.

Despite his utmost respect for his legion Legion Commander, Jill still felt disappointed with His Highness's aesthetic sense; these mushroom-shaped vehicles were simply too clumsy, with large heads, thick necks, and most importantly, extremely short legs.

Along with Jill's complaints, a large number of people in the Mind Network echoed her sentiments, all criticizing that these mushroom-like creatures had too short legs and couldn't run fast at all, making them a completely different kind of living tank.

"If only I had long legs, and it would be even better if my arms were longer too."

"Yeah, my arms are so short that I can't even bend down to pick things up; I have to squat down."

Like Jill, who died and came back to life repeatedly, Atlas, who have survived to this day, are all numb. Only by bragging and joking in the Mind Network can they relieve their mental stress.

But their discussion soon caught Mordred's attention.

With a wave of his hand, Moreleide crushed the Hell Beast that dared to breathe on him, multitasking as he fought and breathed:

"It's good enough that it's even useful. How dare you question my perfect creation? Don't you know that legs are just decorations?"

It's just a consumable item, as long as it works, that's fine. Why are you being so picky? You don't understand my difficulties at all. I'm exhausted."

"Father, how long are we going to hold out? Why aren't reinforcements here yet? I've boarded the Vengeful Spirit over 300 times already."

"Shut up. You've only jumped over the gang 300 times, while I've jumped over it a full 1000 times. I don't even know how many times I've killed that little braid of Abaddon."

"Abaddon's tough as nails, he actually took three of my Power Fist without even breaking his face."

"Indeed, isn't it strange? We've only seen Horus a few times, but we see Abaddon every time."

Recalling his previous experiences, the Khan sent out a fragment of memory through the Mind Network, attracting everyone's attention, including Mordred.

The Khan, who had merged with his Demon Pal and transformed into a four-armed snake demon, crawled through the ventilation duct in the shadows until he reached the depths of the bridge.

From the Khan's perspective, everyone saw a spiky braid pointing directly at the ventilation duct—who else could it be but Abaddon?

By now, everyone knows that the so-called 3,000 Soul of Vengeance are all Warp Projection. Apart from the various Chaos Space Marines and Cultists Daemon, most of them are bots.

The origin of these human-controlled machines is unknown, but there is no doubt that any ship that can be controlled by human-controlled machines is fake.

After all, on those ships, some Atlas saw archangels smashed into a pulp, Wolf King Great Angel to their knees, Adeptus Custodes attacking indiscriminately, half-human, half-raven Space Marine, one-eyed Sunburned Ogryn without any powerful muscles, and even the First Legion, wearing hoods and calling themselves Fallen Angels.

As everyone knows, Sanguinius don't turn into mincemeat, the one kneeling isn't the Wolf King, the Adeptus Custodes are all freaks covered in oil and wearing very little clothing, Space Marine don't have birdmen, the Crimson King is the Empire's top male model, and even the First Legion doesn't wear hoods.

Therefore, these ships must all be fake.

But from the Khan's perspective, every Soul of Vengeance he boarded had an Abaddon on it.

If it were just Abaddon, that would be fine; you could just treat them as regular NPCs. But every Abaddon runs away, not only incredibly fast, but they even have lines.

For example, Abaddon, who was standing right in front of the Khan, actually sat down on the ground and started crying after taking eight blows from the Power Sword with his face:

"Waaaaah, you wretched bastards, who are you? Why am I always the one who gets hurt?!"

After reading the memory fragments sent by the Khan, the others also sent their own experiences in a similar manner. Although the experiences of the people involved were different, without exception, each ship had an Abaddon, and even their lines were different.

"Enough! Stop arguing. There must be one real one among so many Vengeful Spirit. Let's just keep fighting."

"Father, when will our reinforcements arrive?"

"The Khan, I also want to ask you this: did you send a signal to Guilliman and the others?"

"I sent it! And I even sent it in batches. Last time we communicated, they said there were still nine hours left, but now three months have passed, and I still don't know!"

Nine hours, another nine hours. Mordred suspected that these nine hours might never come, meaning they would have to rely on themselves.

"Hang in there a little longer! Wave 3764, totaling 110 million Lizardmen Beast Regiment, has hatched. I will now deploy you to near-Earth orbit."

Mordred was also nearing his limit. The resurrection of each Atlas required a great deal of his energy. Not only did he have to collect the corpses and piece them back together, but he also had to ensure that the bodies did not have extra arms, extra legs, or extra three or four heads.

That's not the most tiring part. The most tiring part is ensuring the integrity of the soul and having it correspond one-to-one with the body.

This severely limits Mordred's Computing Power; in other words, 99% of his Computing Power is used for this purpose, with only 1% left for combat.

Given Mordred's information processing capabilities, ensuring the resurrection of Space Marine and Spartan Warriors was already the limit.

Ordinary Auxilia don't suddenly die. After all, they don't have Gene-Seed or their own blood as anchors, and their souls can only be recovered twice before they completely collapse.

On the contrary, Ogryn, because he is not smart and his soul is as simple as stone, makes it the easiest for him to be resurrected, but he can only do it a maximum of five times.

Each time a soldier dies, Killed in Action soul dissipates and he falls into a state of exhaustion; even Atlas Space Marine, after repeated resurrections, will fall into a deep sleep.

This frantic pursuit of KPIs has caused a bug in the Sea of Souls. Mordred can sense a Warp Entity forming, the source of which is the echo of Atlas before his Killed in Action.

While toying with lives, whenever the Beast Legion gathers a certain number of soldiers, Mordred uses his magical abilities to pack them up and send them into low Earth orbit.

Mordred has done this countless times, and after accounting for normal losses, the entire planet's mass has decreased by nearly 1/476.

Using quality to compete with quantity is the best tactic Mordred could come up with, but at the same time, his mental pressure is already on the verge of breaking.

The current situation is a battle of who has the most health; whoever can hold out the longest wins.

Moreover, as time went on, the scales of victory had begun to tip in Atlas's favor. More than half of the 3,000 Vengeful Spirit had been destroyed, and Horus's true location would soon be found.

Just as Mordred was continuing to withstand the pressure, two pieces of incredibly good news arrived one after another.

A squadron of Moon Wolves, appearing out of nowhere, emerged from the enemy fleet, pointing out the true Vengeful Spirit.

At first, Goff thought it was a false signal from the enemy, but he soon discovered that there was Dog-men among the pair of Moon Wolves, and it was none other than the old charlatan, Canid-Niz.

With a dog as an anti-counterfeiting symbol, Atlas finally found its true target after a hard-fought six-month battle.

The other piece of good news is that reinforcements have finally arrived.

When Mordred saw the figures of the Dark Angels and the Blood Angels appear in orbit, but not the Ultramarines, she immediately decided to make her eldest son the Khan, the Crown Prince.

The Three Legions sent out the message together, but you Ultramarines couldn't get there. It's thanks to the Khan's thoughtfulness in separating you all; otherwise, if you had all been grouped together with the Ultramarines, none of you would have been able to get there.

But none of that matters. The important reinforcements have arrived, and they are the First Legion and the Ninth Legion.

"Hahaha, this time it's truly Sanguinius descending! Destiny is in my hands, destiny is in my hands!"

Kids, it's time for Great Counteroffensive! Abandon the ground battlefield, adopt a base-trading tactic, and charge with me!

With wings of light unfurled, a colossal monster, hundreds of meters tall, emerged from the mist. Accompanied by flickering Grassland Illusion, Atlas, who was engaged in a fierce battle on the ground, vanished instantly and appeared on the Vengeful Spirit together with Mordred.

Nearly half a year of brutal fighting had left Atlas completely out of ammunition and supplies, forcing everyone to fight wearing mushroom skins; they truly had no clothes left to wear.

But it was also thanks to its high degree of symbiosis with the Mushroom Knight that Atlas was able to perform a physical leap into the frigid void.

Seeing the four-armed monster clinging to the Soul of Vengeance and gnawing on it, Sanguinius and Zhuang Sen immediately recognized it as Mordred. After all, no other idiot would ever board a ship and cling to someone else's deck and gnaw on it.

Especially the little golden hair on the top of that monster's head—it's like an anti-counterfeiting mark, absolutely impossible to fake.

The arrival of the two legions was not without its challenges; they too encountered Chaos attacks and fought a guerrilla war for nearly six years before finally reaching the capital.

Six years, three years, half a year, and countless years have passed in Holy Terra; time has long since collapsed, but support has finally arrived.

The two Legion Flagship launched out, flanking Mordred from both sides, and slammed into the Vengeful Spirit, where Mordred was located.

Without any hesitation, after the physical collision, the two Primarchs immediately boarded Mordred and arrived beside Mordred.

"Second Brother!"

"Big brother!"

"Ninth Brother!"

The three victorious leaders stood together. Although they were of different sizes, all three Primarchs had thick, golden hair, which greatly boosted the morale of the Three Legions.

This delighted the Four Merchants lying on one side of the Veil, while only the Emperor, still in Holy Terra, was completely bewildered.

Meanwhile, Guilliman was still on his way!