A Neck Plagued by Misfortune

A blinding flash overwhelmed the Webway's own light.

The roar of explosions shook the entire Webway route.

"What happened?" Yvraine rushed to the porthole and looked back.

A normally sized ship could not look behind itself this way, but the Regent and the Death God prophet were currently aboard an extremely small vessel.

When Yvraine looked back, she saw that all six enemy ships pursuing them had vanished.

But then three more enemy ships emerged from a Webway branch and resumed the chase.

"I told you that you should have asked for a map of the Webway routes corresponding to the Tyran Sector!"

Yvraine ran back to Guilliman's side. Even she could not help voicing a complaint in such a dire situation.

If Guilliman had simply asked for a route map, the Tyran Sector would certainly have provided one. Then they would not have ended up like headless flies when this happened today.

Yet Guilliman had no response to Yvraine's complaint.

The Primarch lay flat on the floor, clutching the slashed wound on his neck.

The honor guard that had accompanied Guilliman anxiously stood watch beside their Primarch.

"What happened to Guilliman?"

A voice produced by human vocal organs rang out. Yvraine followed the sound and saw someone pass straight through the warship's bulkhead.

It was Qin Mo, who had come to support them.

He had destroyed six ships, then sensed that something seemed wrong with Guilliman aboard the vessel, so he hurried over to check.

Seeing his friend arrive, Guilliman, pale-faced, beckoned to him.

Qin Mo leaned closer to listen.

"That... that fellow called Ahra... wasn't as strong as Fulgurite..."

Guilliman's weak voice emerged.

Though he had not seen what had happened, Qin Mo could guess. Guilliman had definitely flown into a rage and challenged the enemy to a