Tzeentch: Making trouble is my specialty!

Without any visible movement from Alvin, Angron's massive body exploded as if struck by the Daemon cannon of a warship, splattering filthy and profane blood as he was sent flying backward at incredible speed!

Bang!

This is the first time the Daemon Primarch has been blasted away!

Even Angron seemed stunned. He looked down and saw that his entire chest had almost caved in, with clear dents, as if he had been punched.

Come on!

Alvin grinned maliciously, beckoning with his finger. "You like to fight, don't you? I'll let you have your fill today!"

"You lowly insect!!!"

Feeling insulted, Angron roared and charged towards Alvin like a streak of crimson lightning.

In the blink of an eye, the two were locked in combat.

Gusts of wind howled, their figures almost becoming afterimages; each clash of weapons created a terrifying shockwave.

Sweeping through the ruins of the Blood Palace.

However, this scene appeared to Ezekiel, the Chief Librarian of the Dark Angels, like something out of a horror movie!

"This, this is--"

On the eyepiece of Ezekiel's Auspex, several lines of data skyrocketed like rockets. His pupils contracted sharply, utterly shocked. "The Warp readings are surging dramatically? How is this possible—he should only be I-class Psyker, how can he have such a strong Psychic Power reaction?!"

Psyker's innate talent determines their future strength.

In other words, from the moment of birth, the future strength of Psyker is almost predetermined, and it is very difficult to overcome that insurmountable barrier.

However, among the many Psyker, there are a very few exceptions where Psychic Power talents can change with time, emotions, environment, and other external influences.

But—even Ezekiel had never encountered Psyker who jumped from the I-class to the Epsilon-class.

As Alvin's emotions fluctuated wildly, his Psychic Power reaction index reached the extremely dangerous "Epsilon-class"!

According to the Imperium Psyker classification, this is already in the extremely dangerous Psyker category!

What shocked Ezekiel even more was that...

The Warp index on the eyepiece, after reaching the Epsilon-class, not only showed no signs of stabilizing, but even showed signs of rising.

You should know that if you go just a little higher, you'll find the Delta and Gamma Level, terrifying beings capable of destroying planets!

If this growth continues at this rate, it won't be long before they witness the birth of an Alpha-level Psyker!

Alpha?!

The thought of this possibility made Ezekiel shudder. His heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand, and a deep-seated fear completely overwhelmed his mind.

"Quickly, stop him!" Ezekiel, his lungs severely damaged, coughed up blood with every word, yet he still managed to shout with difficulty, "No, we can't let him continue drawing Psychic Power from the Warp! Otherwise, the entire Dragon Forest Star will be destroyed, and this place will become a second 'Curse Scar'!"

If Alvin continues to recklessly and frantically draw Psychic Power from the Warp, he could very well become an Alpha-level Psyker!

At that time, it won't just be "Dragon Forest Star" that suffers.

This place will become the second true "Curse Scar," bringing disaster to the entire Idolater System and even the entire Imperium!

However, the aftershocks emitted by those two fierce figures made it difficult for them to get close.

As the Psychic Power index climbed, the severely injured Ezekiel almost in despair.

Is there really no other way?

At this moment, Alvin was not only fighting to the death with Angron, but he was also fighting against himself.

The endless sounds of battle drowned out his voice, as if countless hands were dragging him, slowly pulling him into the abyss.

But he couldn't stop, because if he did, Angron would retaliate and cut off his head.

This put Alvin in a dilemma.

But just then, just as the surging Blood Qi was about to completely bury the light of his soul, a barely perceptible purple light suddenly awakened Alvin from it, as if enlightened, freeing him from that desire to kill.

At the same time, another voice came.

"Light it."

"Ignite yourself."

"Light the torch!"

A faint, ethereal voice suddenly resounded from the depths of Alvin's soul as he descended into madness.

It wasn't heard through the ears, but came directly to the soul. It wasn't thunderous or grand, but it carried an absolute tranquility that seemed to transcend time and space, life and death, and was difficult for ordinary people to understand, as well as an indescribable majesty.

The voice was like a star that had existed since time immemorial in the depths of a cold universe, casting a pure light that illuminated Alvin, who was shrouded in gloom.

The voice soothed Alvin's consciousness.

Like a scorching hot iron, it dispelled the ice of despair that had frozen his soul, pulling him back from the brink of falling into the abyss to reality.

A pure golden flame, like an inverted galaxy, flowed into Alvin's body.

Centered on him, a beam of light shot into the sky without warning, instantly dispelling the filthy blood mist and sulfurous clouds that shrouded the battlefield.

This Blood Palace, once filled with blasphemy, was instantly transformed by golden light into a sacred temple.

The vast, fiery Psychic Power, imbued with absolute order and a sense of purification, spread out like a tangible tsunami, coating each Dark Angels with a faint golden light, making them appear like sacred and solemn angels!

Angron's massive hand, reaching for Alvin, abruptly stopped just inches from its target. For the first time, a clear look of surprise, even a hint of..., was reflected in his bloodshot eyes, which were forever filled with a pure desire for destruction.

:.. envy!

The body, constructed from the power of Chaos, emitted a sizzling sound and billowing black smoke under the golden flame.

It was as if this pure, sacred, golden flame was his natural nemesis!

"Why?!"

"Why?!"

"Why?!"

Angron was furious and roared and questioned Alvin three times.

And at the same moment.

In the depths of that High Heavens, filled with malice and the emotions of all living beings, not far from that cold sun, a faint candle flame suddenly lit up, as if it might be extinguished at any moment.

It was like a torch in the darkness.

It could only illuminate a few inches, yet it was extremely sturdy, and the cold sun seemed to protect that tiny, weak candlelight in its embrace.

"Finally, it's lit."

That ancient star, that cold sun, seemed to have a gaze deep within it, watching over the faint flame it protected, and gently letting out a sigh of relief.

At this moment, the blood-red figure atop the Brass Throne, bearing the titles "Butcher" and "Blood God," let out a furious roar. His gaze seemed to pierce through layers of space, landing on the eerie figure deep within the Crystal Labyrinth.

The gaze, filled with hatred and anger, met the mocking and sarcastic look in the eyes of the figure.

Boom!!!

Throughout Khorne's domain, in every corner of the Brass Fortress, the Daemon could sense the tyrannical and furious aura of that figure.

Elsewhere, in a palace Excessive Joy, a figure, both androgynous and exuding elegance and charm, let out a soft, cold snort. Behind the eerie purple curtains, he flicked his seductive tongue. "No rush, he'll be mine sooner or later—heh heh."

In the space filled with the stench of filth and decay, a large cauldron boiled, and a colossal figure, like a mountain seated in meditation, stirred the pot. Yet, his gaze was fixed on something else, his tongue lolling greedily, making no attempt to conceal his desire. "Atropis, Atropis —you are mine, you can only be mine!"