You guys are teaming up to mess with me, right?

"Azariah, you're supposed to be a Daemon Prince, and a one-of-a-kind Psychic Power behemoth at that. Look how terrified you are now!"

Anyone who didn't know better would think you were a Gretchin!

Do you want to be an unknown nobody, or a legend? You can't keep going down this low.

Inside the Graveyard Hub, a red-skinned Greater Daemon with wings on its back was drinking wildly. What it was drinking was blood wine, a spicy liquid brewed with soul fragments and inspiration mushrooms and infused with a trace of Fel Energy.

Because its raw materials contain Fel Energy and various bizarre substances that can be fatal, a normal person would die instantly after just one sip, and even Daemon would experience a slight intoxication due to the corrosive effect of the Fel Energy.

This technique, which is less a brewing process and more a form of sorcery, originated from Atlas's Elemental Bottles. Depending on the souls used, its flavor is diverse and highly praised by Daemon.

Don't be fooled by the stereotype that Daemon are all madmen who do nothing but destroy the world and plunder souls. This is just a stereotype created by different observers. In reality, Daemon also have all sorts of survival needs, and may even have a stronger love for humans.

After all, they are creations born from the emotional tides of the Sea of Souls; Daemon are synonymous with desire, or one could say they are slaves to desire.

Sheep cannot be friends with wolves, but huskies can blend in, and that's Azariah's way of surviving.

Since becoming the Daemon Prince, Azariah has successfully established himself in this land of carnage by opening a tavern, and has even become acquainted with some famous Greater Daemon, including Ka'Bandha, who is standing right in front of him.

Looking at Ka'Bandha, who had been banished back to the Warp but was still full of energy, Azariah couldn't understand why he was so carefree and acted as if nothing had happened, getting more and more excited as he drank.

This question was caught by Ka'Bandha, who downed his drink in one gulp and gestured for Azariah to come closer.

The Greater Daemon pulled a photograph from his robes, and the person in the photograph was none other than the Great Angel who roamed the battlefield, slaying demons and monsters.

"See that? That damn smile. The moment I first saw the Sanguinius, I knew he was my lifelong rival."

"This is my obsession, so I never give up. And Azariah, what is your obsession?"

"Mine?" Azariah glanced at the infatuated Ka'Bandha and fell silent, but still said, "My obsession is the Primarch. I have been pursuing the Primarch's return, but as you know, Father has returned, but I can't go back."

Not only can I not go back, but I've also been branded a traitor, and my father will kill me."

"Then why don't you run?"

"Run?"

Perhaps it was because the goods Azariah had given him were too pure, but Ka'Bandha face was already green with drunkenness, said, "Yeah, since we knew we were going to die, why didn't we run away?"

Meeting Azariah's incredulous gaze, Ka'Bandha inexplicably felt a sense of intellectual suppression. "Do you think such words shouldn't come out of my mouth? That's racism!"

True courage isn't about blindly throwing your life away; it's about using your brain. If you can win, that's called bravery Dreadnought; if you can't, that's called strategic retreat. I need to read more books and use my brain more; I don't want to end up not even having a drink in the future.

Besides, everyone knows that the official is notoriously petty, with a mind smaller than a pinhead.

What's that saying again? Fealty that isn't absolute is absolutely Fealty; there's no sacrifice so great as to be unacceptable, and no betrayal so minor as to be permissible.

This group is the most obsessed. I shook my head when I saw them. They're just like that bunch of useless purple-skinned monsters next door. They're so pathetic!

You have no idea that ever since that Daemon Primarch took over the Six Rings Silver Palace, these purple-skinned monsters have been exploited to death, with some kind of KPI assessment mechanism.

Those who cannot complete their tasks will be stripped of their five senses, stuffed into steel and driven into lifeless piles, left to cry out to heaven and earth in vain, enduring the maddening silence and emptiness.

So let me tell you, the Primarch are a bunch of lunatics, not a single one of them is any good. Since they came to the Warp, they have killed more Daemon than you humans have killed.

If I were in your shoes, I would definitely take advantage of the chaos and run away quickly, otherwise, with your small frame, one punch would send your head flying.

Why don't you let me look after this tavern? I still need to recover for 88 years. When the time comes, you can sneak back. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"Oh, looks like you can hold your liquor. Are you brave?"

"Please, I'm super brave, okay?"

Before he could finish speaking, Ka'Bandha saw Azariah trembling like a leaf, cold sweat pouring down his face, his eyes filled with 3 parts joy, 3 parts regret, and the remaining 94 parts pure fear.

"Gulp." Subconsciously swallowing, Ka'Bandha saw two figures, one large and one small, standing at the door through the reflection in his glass. The smaller one was an old acquaintance, none other than his own Daemon Primarch Omega.

The taller one was indistinct, its face obscured by shadows, revealing only a pair of golden pupils.

"Um, sir, please listen to me—click!"

Before Ka'Bandha could finish speaking, Mordred snapped its neck, her large hands gripping its horns tightly and breaking them off on the spot.

"Roll!"

"Okay!"

Looking at his good brother who had fled in disarray, and his father with a stern face in front of him, Azariah's heart sank to the bottom, and he slumped into his chair.

"Father, there's no need for further words. For the honor of the legion, just kill me!"

"No, don't!" A figure darted out from behind the bar and hugged Azariah, barking at Mordred like a wildcat guarding its food, but Azariah kicked it back.

"Get out! Who gave you the right to offend my father?"

Hearing this, Mordred's expression softened a bit. She took another careful look at the infatuated Daemon, especially its cool appearance, which wouldn't be bad even in the Six Rings Silver Palace. Her expression improved even more.

Then, after assessing the Daemon's strength, he realized it was a genuine, ordinary Greater Daemon. While its strength didn't seem particularly impressive to him, it perfectly matched the Lekshir Ritual, and the Fel Energy erosion on its body couldn't be faked. In the end, he sighed and said, "What a pair of star-crossed lovers. If it were before, I would have slapped you to death. But you, my Rebellious son, haven't disgraced me, you're just too stupid."

As a Chapter Master, you should be mindful of the impact. At least try to keep things clean. This kind of peculiar hobby should be enjoyed within a small circle, but you've made it public knowledge.

"You're already Chapter Master, and I still have to come and rescue you? I'm speechless. I'm only 253 years old this year, and you're probably older than me. Sigh~ whatever, come back with me."

"Father, please don't kill me!"

"Why would I kill you? What kind of person do you take me for? You haven't harmed any humans, nor have you defected to the enemy. I'm an extremely magnanimous person, not some barbarian like Zhuang Sen. Why would I kill you?"

However, you may escape the death penalty, but you cannot escape punishment. Your quirk is really too strange. Since the founding of Atlas, there has only been one oddball like you. I can't say anything about what you did.

But an old man, before he died, only wished that I live well, and didn't ask me to be ambitious. Since Old Thomas treated me like that, I won't blame you too much, so it's impossible for you to be reinstated.

"Then—you two, get out of here and report to the Black Knights. And while you're at it, take these two special characters with you. I don't have much to give you."

"Father!"

"Shut up! And you, Azariah calling me father is one thing, but if you dare call me that, I'll slap you to death!"

What a perfect picture of fatherly love and filial piety! Omega, as an observer, certainly enjoyed the show. But then a new problem arose: Azariah is Angrath's Daemon Prince, and ownership of his soul still belongs to Angrath.

However, this was quite simple. Mordred had Angrath's contact information, and after doing him a favor, he redeemed his foolish soul.

Don't be surprised; the martial arts world isn't just about fighting and killing, but about human relationships and social interactions.

As for whether Mordred would spare his life Mordred they meet again because of this favor? Laughable. Why should I repay a debt I incurred through my own abilities? Killing the other party is the same as wiping out the debt, isn't it?

Killing Ang'grath is not easy either. These named and Greater Daemon are all aspects separated from Chaos God, not the kind of fragments that can be easily destroyed. They are the most connected of the connected.

For example, Ka'Bandha, whose special Daemon was just torn off by Mordred, is not difficult to kill, but the difficulty lies in the fact that a new Daemon will appear after he dies.

This is like a mountain of code; if you can't completely solve the root cause, then don't mess with it.

At least the current Ka'Bandha a good target; the Blood Angels has been dealing with him for ten thousand years. Letting this perverted thing fill the hole under Lothar will minimize the harm.

And just as the Khorne said, He didn't stop Mordred at all, and just blatantly let him go. Moreover, He got a buy-one-get-one-free deal, redeeming His own offspring while also bringing back Omega, whom everyone hates.

However, this didn't come without a price. Omega's Chaos magical energy was so blinding that Mordred had to bury him in Stasis Field and seal him with multiple layers of Chaos Energy Crystal to prevent Warp contamination.

When the time comes, take this thing to Holy Terra and let the Yellow Skins purify it, then the Empire will have gained half a Primarch.

Before falling into slumber, Omega revealed crucial information. "Second Brother, Magnus is in the Crystal Maze, not with the Khorne."

"Oh, Guilliman said he was kidnapped by the Khorne? How did he escape?"

"He ran straight to Realm of Tzeentch." After thinking carefully, Omega corrected himself, "He ran there on foot."

Mordred knew perfectly well that one should run on foot, but what he didn't know was how the little horse had run all the way to Realm of Tzeentch. It couldn't have been run by its own two legs, could it? But Omega couldn't explain it either, so he just said that Magnus had run away.

The effects of the Chaos persisted; Omega was clearly acting strangely and was constantly in a manic state, but his eccentric personality compensated for this, which could be described as fighting fire with fire.

When Mordred returned to the Physical World carrying a huge pile of Chaos Energy Crystal and dragging his Rebellious son back, he immediately rushed back to Holy Terra, fearing that something bad might happen again.

Throughout the journey, Mordred didn't ask a single question. After all, unlike the universally disliked Omega, Sanguinius were highly sought after by everyone. Currently, no one knew the whereabouts of Sanguinius, not even him.

The round trip took a full 15 months. When they arrived in Holy Terra again, the Yellow Skins was still the same, still playing games on the Golden Throne.

The thought of fighting the Khorne for a year, losing almost all of her life, while you, this Yellow Skins, are having a blast and have Isha serving you fruit makes Mordred incredibly jealous.

"Hey, Second Son, you're back! Come on, I want you to see someone."

A not-so-tall figure emerged from behind the Golden Throne and stood there looking at Mordred, who was covered in dust, carrying many bags and a giant green crystal.

"Second Brother, it's been a long time!"

"A-Fa! No, buddy, are you guys ganging up on me?"