Warp Greater Daemon

Having confirmed the reward, Guilliman nodded.

This Cheat was not too bad. It was barely usable.

By combining Dark Matter Computer technology with the Primaris Space Marines technology in Tech-Priest Cawl's possession,

he could forge a new batch of warriors to fight the traitors and the forces of Chaos.

The Imperium of Man's existing Space Marines were truly somewhat too weak when facing these forces of Chaos.

Many times, they had only won by piling up numbers.

The casualty ratio was horrendous, too awful to bear looking at.

Being able to create such a powerful new army would greatly help him maintain the Imperium of Man's territory.

Guilliman had no choice. Either he helped the Imperium of Man defeat Chaos, or Chaos would capture him and make him a slave.

Run?

He had better stop dreaming.

The nearest galaxy was hundreds of thousands of light-years away from the Milky Way. How could he escape?

Without the Astronomican or star charts, how could he escape??

Even if his fleeing ship could reach the maximum speed allowed by the universe, he still could not get away.

Traveling from the Milky Way to another galaxy at light speed would take hundreds of thousands of years. If the ship broke down halfway, he would drift until he died.

Escaping through the Warp was even more dangerous.

The Warp was all territory of the Chaos Gods. Without the Emperor's Astronomican protecting them, the Geller Field would collapse within days.

Without the Geller Field, the Chaos Gods could do whatever they pleased with him.

There was also another unrealistic problem with fleeing: other places were not necessarily safe.

There was another race in the Warhammer Universe: the Tyranids.

This terrifying race had come from beyond the Milky Way, devouring everything wherever it went. It had been chased into the Milky Way by some even more powerful existence.

One could imagine what had happened!!

The world beyond the Milky Way might be even worse than the Milky Way itself.

If he escaped, his fate would likely be even more miserable.

He could only win. Otherwise, he could only die miserably. There was no third path.

"Get out there and wipe them out." Guilliman strode outside, terrible fury blazing in his eyes as the flames on the Emperor's Sword burned ever more fiercely.

Calgar, Celestine, Amalrich, and the other survivors rallied and gathered at Guilliman's side.

Thunderous artillery fire rang out beyond the Sanctum. The Imperial defenders were still fighting desperately, trying to drive the Chaos invaders from their home.

Battles raged everywhere across Macragge City, that magnificent Hive City.

From factories to the Spaceport, the sounds of slaughter were everywhere.

Space Marines from across the Imperium, clad in different suits of armor, fought in a melee against the forces of Chaos.

The Astra Militarum and the Macragge Honor Guard were still firing, using defenses erected along the streets to shoot those damned Cultists and Daemons.

Las-beams cut across the battlefield filled with a pungent stench, scorching those monsters and taking their lives.

But there were simply too many monsters, Cultists, and traitors—numbers beyond imagination.

Wave after wave, they slammed into the Loyalists' lines, driving the defenders back step by step.

"For the Chaos Gods! For supreme glory! Kill!" The Cultists, covered in bone spurs and transformed into monsters, waved their weapons and shouted loudly, spurring their followers onward to assault the defenders' lines.

A hideous man covered in tumors screamed with unusual excitement, "For Grandfather's gifts! For the The End of all things!"

The other traitors also shouted all manner of bizarre, blasphemous slogans.

The Imperial defenders still held on bitterly, maintaining a battle line on the verge of collapse. Behind them lay Macragge City's final shelter. They had nowhere left to retreat.

The civilians huddled in the shelter, praying before statues of the Emperor.

"Save us."

"Do not let us suffer at the hands of those evils."

"Save us."

The nearer the sounds of artillery and Chaos's mad cries came, the more terrified they became.

Once they fell into Chaos's hands, even death would no longer be rest, but the beginning of another torment.

At that thought, they began to tremble, overcome by fear.

The Astra Militarum commander responsible for defending Macragge City's shelter had also fallen into despair.

Facing the surging Chaos army, he could only squeeze every last ounce of potential from each unit, buying a little more time for the defensive line.

More than a hundred regiments had been ground away in this war of flesh and blood. Countless Astra Militarum soldiers had died on this battlefield.

Their only hope was for the Imperial fleet to retake control of low orbit. Only then could they win this war.

Corpses were piled like mountains across the battlefield, crimson blood flowing over the ground. Even the air reeked of it.

The brutality of the war grew ever more despairing.

There was not the slightest chance of victory in sight.

The connection between the surface and space had been cut off. No one knew how the battle in space was going.

Had they won? Or had they fled in rout?

Huge green flies buzzed as they circled above the battlefield.

The moment they spotted fresh corpses on the ground, they swarmed over them, burrowing into flesh to lay eggs and sending Grandfather's mercy—those strange viruses and Pathogens—into the bodies, making them rise again as Plague Zombies.

The defenders' decline grew increasingly severe, while the enemy's offensive only became stronger. The power of the Warp's Chaos Gods was swelling with satisfaction, and eerie whispers tempted the soldiers who still wished to resist, trying to drag them away from the corpse on the Golden Throne and into the sweet Garden.

"Are we finished??" Despair rose in the commander's heart as he watched the battlefield crumble. How could they possibly win a battle like this!!

Continuing to fight would only lead to death.

They had no chance whatsoever of turning defeat into victory.

There was no aerial fire support, no concentration of tanks, no Titans or Knights, and no reserve troops.

The Astra Militarum commander looked up at the sky. Even air superiority had been completely seized by the enemy. What chance of victory remained?

Pessimism spread among all the defenders, filling their faces with despair.

Many gripped their weapons tightly, doing their best to calm their trembling bodies.

Several veterans made the Aquila Sign and offered their final prayers.

As they watched the Daemons and traitors surge forward once more, they silently prayed that their souls would return beneath the Throne and join their fallen comrades.

Then, suddenly, the eerie whispers vanished.

Everyone felt an unknown force rise within them, driving away their sickness, exhaustion, and despair, filling their bodies with strength once more.

The wild delight vanished from the faces of the Chaos Warriors, Daemons, and Cultists, replaced entirely by terrible fear.

Guilliman emerged from the Sanctum, like a Demigod of War consumed by fury stepping from the divine realm into reality. The Emperor's Sword burned fiercely, and wherever its light reached, the Shadow in the Warp collapsed and fled in succession.

"I have returned." Guilliman let out a battle cry and broke into a run. Celestine and the others followed close behind, charging with him toward the army of Daemons and traitors.

Like a sharpened spear, they pierced directly into the enemy formation. The instant they collided, a terrible slaughter erupted, shattered limbs flying everywhere.

"Counterattack! All troops, charge!" Seeing the Saint, the Marshal, and the Chapter Master all guarding a demigod who seemed to have stepped straight from myth, the battlefield commander realized that the plan of Belisarius Cawl, Archmagos of the Adeptus Mechanicus, had succeeded. One of the Emperor's sons had been revived.

Victory was reaching out to them. Humanity would endure forever, and the glory of the Imperium would surely be immortal.

He roared with rage and ordered the entire army to charge.

"For humanity! For the Emperor!"

"For humanity! For the Emperor!"

Hearing the order, the soldiers climbed out of their trenches, shouting their oaths as they charged toward the now-fearful Chaos army.

"For humanity! For the Emperor!" An ordinary soldier shouted with all his strength. Poisonous gunsmoke rushed into his nose and mouth, making him cough violently, but he did not hesitate in the slightest. Weapon in hand, he charged the nearest Cultist and drove a bayonet forged with monomolecular technology into the enemy's body.

"Pay the price, traitor." Another soldier climbed from the trench and fired his Lasgun at every enemy he saw, venting the fury in his heart.

The situation on Macragge reversed in an instant. The forces of Chaos continuously lost the ground they had occupied, beaten into a complete rout by humanity's counterattack.

Roar!

Realizing that the Chaos army was failing, the Cultists used the lives of their followers to summon a Greater Daemon wreathed in flames.

The Greater Daemon was massive and powerfully built, covered in metallic bone spurs. It looked utterly terrifying, and its mere presence made many tremble in fear.

The followers were drained of their life force in an instant, then spontaneously combusted into ash.

"A Primarch??" The Greater Daemon entered realspace from the Warp through the sacrifice and immediately caught Guilliman's scent.

Its flame-burning eyes instantly locked onto the Primarch fighting on the battlefield.

The Primarch's skull would be the finest gift for the Blood God. It revealed a savage grin, then let out another roar that shook the entire world before charging straight ahead.