Abaddon: The Age of Primarchs Is Over. I Said So!

The Imperial Regent? A Primarch?

At that moment, Abaddon felt nothing but pride. "Hmph. Is that all?"

Robert Guilliman was no better than this? His past exploits had made Abaddon think far too highly of the Primarch.

From his command of the battlefield to his decisions in the heat of combat, Guilliman was still operating at the level he had reached ten thousand years ago.

But Abaddon was no longer the man he had been back then!

Ten thousand years of war had honed his skills.

Now he was the Chaos Marshal, lord of the unmatched Black Legion, and the greatest champion chosen by the Four Gods since Horus!

"Press the attack!"

At Abaddon's roar, the Black Legion drove forward with fanatical fervor and smashed through the final defensive line.

The blue-and-gold colossus ahead rose like a sacred cathedral. It was the Primarch's flagship, the Gloriana-class Battleship Glory of Macragge, and it lay only a few hundred kilometers away.

In space, that was practically point-blank range!

Abaddon chose not to wait. He boarded an assault craft with his elite bodyguards, numerous Chaos Sorcerers, and Chaos Dreadnoughts.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The Glory of Macragge opened fire in return. Its few remaining anti-aircraft guns that had not been seized swept across the Vengeful Spirit.

But the Chaos Sorcerers soon suppressed them, and the last anti-aircraft batteries fell silent.

"Now!"

Dozens of assault craft streamed out one after another.

The Vengeful Spirit's Warp psychic field briefly suppressed and tore open the Glory of Macragge's Void Shield,

giving them the perfect chance to board.

Streaks of light split the blackness of space as dozens of Chaos assault craft, flames trailing behind them, hurtled toward the Glory of Macragge at terrifying speed.

With its anti-aircraft batteries crippled, the Glory of Macragge had lost its last