On Isstvan V.
In the pitch-black room, Horus lay flat on his bed. He didn't know if he had grown stronger, but the whispers in his ears didn't seem as bad.
After seeing Fulgrim and Angron, he had once again decided that Chaos couldn't be trusted. Even his brothers were no different. It seemed the only thing he could rely on was the strength in his own hands.
But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, a glint flashed in Horus's eyes!
If he ever ran into Erebus of the Word Bearers again, he would tear the man's face off.
If he had to rank the people he hated, Erebus would definitely come before Francis. After thinking it over for several days, Horus had even begun to believe that Francis had a remarkable talent for military strategy.
Everything Francis did served the interests of the Imperium.
If Horus hadn't rebelled, perhaps Francis could have become a powerful warrior fighting by his side.
Knock, knock, knock~
A short distance away, someone rapped on the door. Each knock came at a steady interval, and the volume was just right.
"Come in!"
The door opened, and a shaft of white light swept in from outside. The clean air was immediately tainted by the smell of machine oil.
"We've finished a basic inspection of the Vengeful Spirit. The Machine Spirit is stable, and the ship is ready to travel."
The Tech-Priest, clad in a blood-red robe, spoke calmly.
"Mm."
Seeing that Horus had nothing else to say, the Tech-Priest discreetly withdrew.
Rumble!
Suddenly—
The ground shook violently. Even the room Horus was in bounced up and down, yet he still didn't get out of bed.
A moment later—
Abaddon came to the doorway, panting hard. "Bad news, Warmaster! Something terrible has happened!"
Horus looked calmly toward the doorway. He could just make out Abaddon's Power Armour, which bristled with more vicious spikes than before.
Horus furrowed his brow. He could sense the same taint of corrupt Chaos on Abaddon.
"Abaddon, calm down. As the first captain of the Sons of Horus, you should be more composed. There's no enemy we can't face."
Abaddon's eyes widened at that. He forced himself to steady his breathing, then spoke after a moment. "Understood, Warmaster. Just now, an Ork ship fell out of space."
"And it landed right on our Vengeful Spirit. We were in the middle of repairs, so the void shields weren't up."
"So our ship's been smashed in half. And more than a billion Orks have poured out of it. Even their Titans are out."
"There's even a gigantic Ork in there who can speak human!"
Horus shot upright, his face darkening. "Why did you take so long to tell me? Hurry up and get me out there to fight!"
In a flash, Horus launched himself forward and raced out.
Abaddon was left behind, looking aggrieved as he muttered, "But didn't you say I should stay calm?"
Horus rushed out and saw an enormous Ork ship, shaped like a giant grenade with two mechanical arms, embedded in the Vengeful Spirit.
That was the Gloriana-class Battleship his father had given him!
Horus's heart bled. He clenched his teeth and roared, "You beasts!!!"
He turned and saw the Ork warriors bellowing deafeningly as they charged toward the Sons of Horus like wild animals.
"Roar, roar, roar~"
Their attacks were wild and ferocious. Every swing of their weapons came with a metallic hum.
The Sons of Horus were shouting, too. "For the Warmaster!"
Boltgun fire thundered across the battlefield, deadly rounds pouring down on the Ork warriors like rain.
But the Orks seemed unable to feel pain. They kept charging forward.
The Sons of Horus began swinging their Chainswords across the battlefield. Each blow sent blood and flesh flying.
Horus leaped up and brought his hammer crashing down on an Ork!
Near the Conqueror.
"I'm Francis. I'm here to pull the nails out of Angron. Stand aside!" A more than ten-meter-tall Ork stood before the World Eaters.
"You can't fool us, you cunning Ork!"
"For the Primarch, charge!!!"
"For the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!"
With that, a mob of World Eaters in Mk II Power Armour charged forward, swinging the Punisher chainaxes in their hands.
A more than ten-meter-tall Ork had suddenly shown up, claiming he was there to cure their Primarch. Who the hell would believe that?
Only an idiot would. The Ork Warboss standing right in front of them was Francis!
"'For the Blood God? Skulls for the Skull Throne?!'" Francis kept muttering. Then he laughed in anger. "Fine, fine, fine! You like being dogs for someone else, do you?"
"Then today I'll pull every last nail out of your heads!"
Just as Francis was about to grab the World Eaters and pull their nails out one by one, another Ork appeared beside him. Trophies stolen from the humies hung around the Ork's waist and back, and a bag of teef bulged with loot.
"Boss, you're taking nails out, right? I've got something that'll do the job!" The shoota Ork Gul'dan fidgeted as he looked at Francis's teeth.
"Did a Gretchin lick your arse? If you've got something to say, spit it out!" Francis kicked him, then casually smacked a World Eater flying.
"Ow! Boss, go easy! Give me one teef and I'll give it to you." Gul'dan hurried over, grinning foolishly at Francis.
Francis abruptly broke off one of his teef and shoved it into Gul'dan's hand.
Gul'dan cradled the tooth in both hands. It was almost as big as his head. He rubbed it against his face over and over. "The boss's teef, hahaha! It stinks! Hahaha!"
Then he licked it. Delicious!
Gul'dan carefully pulled a ram-headed hammer out of his backpack and offered it to Francis. "Boss, I found this treasure by chance back when I was scavenging in space. I'm only asking you for one teef, so..."
Before he could finish, a heartrending scream rang out across all of Isstvan V.
Even the World Eaters, who had just been preparing to charge, clutched their chainaxes and took two steps back, swallowing hard.
After warming up, Francis picked up the ram-headed hammer and tossed it from hand to hand. "Come on, World Eaters. Today's psychotherapy day."
"Waaaaaagh~~"
At Francis's high-pitched battle cry, countless Ork Boyz appeared around them, their eyes glowing green as they shouted at the World Eaters. "Waaaaaagh~~"
"Boyz! Take everything they've got! Don't leave so much as a hair on their heads!"
"They're scared of getting the nails pulled out of their heads! Charge!"
At that, the Ork Boyz' eyes darted around before they grinned!
In the blink of an eye, they built a pile of bounce beds (anti-gravity launchers) and hang-gliders.
Boing~ boing~ boing~
"Yee-haw~ Waaaaaagh~~"
Countless Orks shot into the air, swept over the World Eaters' heads, grabbed the nails on their heads, and swung them around like mad.
The unfortunate World Eaters clutched their nails and shouted, "Blood for the... Big brother, don't pull! Don't pull, I can't take it~"
"Big brother, don't pull! Don't pull, I can't take it~"
Francis watched the Orks flying wildly overhead and the World Eaters being dragged this way and that.
He rubbed his chin and kept walking toward Angron's location, unable to help grumbling, "How can they be so brutal? I can't even bear to watch!"
The Ork Boyz flying all over the sky sometimes slipped and fell straight into the enemy's gun barrels. With a bang, the vehicle and its crew were blown to bits.
He ran into some World Eaters along the way, too. Francis simply worked his magic and pulled the nails right out of their heads.
Afterward, they bounced around excitedly, then lay completely still on the ground.
At last—
Outside Angron's room, Kharn sat silently in a corner, clad in red Mk II Power Armour with yellow stripes. He held a Chainsword in his hands.
"You must be strong to have broken through our defenses and made it here."
"Too bad your journey ends here, Ork. I am Kharn, captain of the World Eaters' 8th Assault Company. I will end your journey and offer your skull to the Blood God!"
Before you continue