Slaanesh Below

"For the Emperor!"

A man, advanced in years and frail, with a significant portion of his body replaced by mechanical prosthetics, wore the uniform of an Imperial Astra Militarum Commissar, his chest adorned with medals awarded by the high command of the Newly Formed Army.

Wielding a heavy chainsword and a specialized bolt pistol, he shouted to the PDF soldiers in the trenches, who were fiercely resisting.

Foul Sigilite, a retired Astra Militarum Commissar. He was also the Planetary Governor of the planet Leth.

Especially the medals already adorning his chest. They all testified to his loyalty to the Emperor.

And this position of Planetary Governor was the best reward for his lifelong struggle for the Imperium.

After shouting this, Foul Sigilite used both hands to climb out of the trench, placing one leg on the mound of earth and firing his bolt pistol at the approaching Chaos traitors in a loyal act of retribution.

The chainsword in his hand roared, and subconscious muscle memory immediately swung it out the moment the bolt pistol fired.

Another Chaos traitor was bisected at the waist.

This was the classic opening move for any Imperial Commissar to initiate close-quarters combat.

"For the Emperor!"

The morale of the PDF soldiers in the trench was instantly boosted. They fiercely attacked the Chaos traitors surging towards them.

Some even charged out of the trench with bayonets fixed, engaging in point-blank assaults.

Meanwhile, in the churning sea of souls that was the Warp, the scorched earth was a vibrant red. But upon closer inspection, one could see it was stained and steamed by blood as hot as lava.

And across this vast, boundless land, countless red-horned, cloven-hoofed demons, wielding their weapons, were slaughtering each other.

And in the center of this land.

Upon a towering throne built from Brass and Skulls, a colossal figure slowly opened its blood-red eyes and looked towards a certain spot.

"Ah~ Brave and fearless souls. And... that peculiar fellow!"

The battle aboard the starship had entered its white-hot phase.

While the Astartes, with their superhuman tactical maneuvers and perfect coordination before all mortals, were now acting like ordinary grunts in this battle.

In this spacious golden hall, the corpses of several Astartes from the Crimson Angel Chapter, clad in Power Armour, lay on the ground, their blood staining the surrounding golden floor.

Without exception, they had all been struck directly by the Doom Sirens on their backpack-mounted power units during close-quarters combat with Noise Marines.

Although the Astartes' formidable physique allowed them to withstand such a blow without immediate death.

The brief mental disorientation it caused was still present.

A moment's hesitation could be fatal.

Especially in the center of this golden hall, upon the blasphemous golden throne.

A man of elegant bearing and handsome features sat like a spectator in a concert hall, watching the battle unfold like a performance by dancers on a central stage.

Boom.

A Witch Seeker Bolter Round accurately struck the side of the man's head.

The attack came from the second floor of the hall.

However, the bolter round did not obliterate the man's head as expected.

Instead, it stopped steadily, less than ten centimeters from his skull.

The bolter round hadn't even fully detonated, retaining its original shape as it slowly hovered there.

Seeing this, the Astartes on the second floor turned and fled without a word.

He knew all too well that the man seated on the high throne was the leader of these Chaos Daemons, and his power was self-evident.

Since a precious Witch Seeker Bolter Round had failed to achieve its effect even with a surprise attack, there was no point in firing more.

Boom!

Indeed, in the next second, the corridor balcony where he had been standing erupted into a fireball. The other soldiers below, seeing this, turned their weapons towards the enemy on the throne, covering their brother's retreat.

Quan Tiehua felt the struggling body in his hand and crushed its head with a forceful grip.

At this moment, his armor was covered in various organ fragments and blood.

If not for the smooth surface of his Power Armour, his appearance might have led people to mistake him for some kind of Chaos Astartes.

He looked at the system panel in his mind. The progress bar, which had been stationary, had inexplicably surged to 55% at some point.

He didn't know what was going on. Although he had felt lucky at the beginning, he knew this was Warhammer.

This was a damn messed-up world.

He was afraid this was the work of Little Blue Bird. Looking at the progress bar that was already more than half full, his heavy mood became even more oppressive.

It felt as if something was blocking his chest and constantly sinking.

Especially looking at the bloody limbs and severed arms on the ground, he couldn't help but wonder if the progress bar's growth was due to the killing.

If that's the case, then this has something to do with Khorne on the Brass Throne.

Plus, he's with the Emperor now, and he's run into Slaanesh's subordinates.

Quan Tiehua took off his helmet, looking at the surrounding scene with some worry.

If Nurgle decided to join the fun too...

Then he'd really be chosen by all five gods.

He might even be able to go toe-to-toe with Tai Ri Tian then.

"Lord Emperor above. Protect my soul from the corruption of those evil gods." he muttered, putting his helmet back on, but for some reason.

With his past life's soul, he still silently thought, "I'll let Sister Slaanesh handle it later."

As soon as he finished speaking, he let out a suppressed laugh from inside his helmet.

Such heretical behavior.

Suddenly feeling refreshed, Quan Tiehua turned and quickly ran towards the bridge where intense combat was occurring.

Meanwhile, in the Warp, the cold sun seemed to grow even colder for some unknown reason.

Even the Astartes surrounding it, clad in Power Armour and adorned with skulls, their once vigorous flames seemed like small embers in a storm, about to be extinguished at any moment.

Not to mention the daemons on the periphery, who were instantly annihilated in the Warp, with the front ranks of demons being completely wiped out.

And within the Imperial Palace on Terra, the patrolling Adeptus Custodes inexplicably shivered.

Even Guilliman, who was working, felt a chill run down his spine.

He looked up from the stack of documents taller than himself and glanced around.

He was completely bewildered.

I can catch a cold too?