144 Terra (XIX)

Ferrus Manus heard a muffled explosion, but he had no time to pay attention. 🍓 ⋆ 🍦 🎀 🎀 🍦 ⋆ 🍓 Not only him, but his company commander also had no time to pay attention. They were facing a deep purple, musky mist, and within it, hundreds of blasphemous and depraved terrifying Daemon.

This is definitely going to be a tough battle, but they can hold on. What does it matter if warships crash down on them? As long as they don't die on the spot, the war will continue, until they achieve complete victory.

"Gabriel," Iron Hands called out.

There was something, or a will, burning fiercely in his voice. It was a power that could instantly calm any soldier of the Tenth Legion.

The platoon leader was no exception. His Warhammer had just struck, and the Daemon was still alive, reveling in the agony of his spine and half his body being smashed into a bloody pulp. Meanwhile, the platoon leader himself had already returned to the Primarch's side.

Without hesitation, with absolute trust.

Ferrus Manus glanced at him. The blood-soaked platoon leader's eyes had a dark look about them. A general is always happy to see his men fight and bleed, but everything has its limits.

He certainly wouldn't be happy to see bits of flesh and blood stuck in the gap of Gabriel Santo's prosthetic eye.

"So, he's made contact with Jaghatai now?" Iron Hands asked.

"I think so, Primarch," Gabriel Santo said. "And judging from the sound of that explosion, they shouldn't be far from us."

"In such a difficult situation—" Ferrus Manus calmly remarked, "I can't think of better news than this, unless I were to see Karyl Lohars appear before us right now."

"Sir, he is just one person, and one person's support cannot change the course of the battlefield. Even if he is an instructor of the Eighth Legion."

The company commander couldn't help but retort, but Iron Hands ignored him.

The servo arms behind his terrifying "Medusan Carapace" were creating a brutal vortex of slaughter, with numerous rotating chainsaws protruding precisely from the Phosphex flames, forming a terrifying pool of lightning.

Any Daemon that breaks free from the darkness and attempts to cross the forbidden zone is either shredded into pieces or burned to a crisp—of course, sometimes these two things happen simultaneously or one after the other.

"You don't know him well enough," Ferrus replied calmly. "In fact, many people don't know him well enough."

He turned around and stood side by side with his company commander.

Gabriel Santo swung his Thunder Hammer at a dangerous angle, combining his already accumulated immense kinetic energy with his terrifying power to create a bloody spectacle.

Ferrus Manus's servo arms retracted, gaining a brief respite. They were perfectly in sync, even though Gabriel was actually hindering his Primarch to some extent.

What do you mean?

During a lull in the fighting, the company commander asked curiously, showing no sign of fatigue whatsoever, as if the brutal war that had been going on for more than twenty-five hours was just a warm-up for him.

"Because he is by no means just--"

Ferrus Manus paused for a moment, a sudden surge of anger igniting in his eyes. Gabriel Santo saw this and was somewhat puzzled, but he quickly grasped the root of the problem.

In the deep pink, musky mist and heavy darkness, he heard a clear, ringing bell, followed by a very strange fragrance. Then, a pale pink, eerie face peeked out from the darkness.

She, he, or it—draped in a deep purple veil, its skin gleaming white—was probably smiling, and it was a very gentle, very complex smile.

"--Why did you stop talking, Gorgon?" the thing asked, slowly crawling out of the darkness.

Its swaying tail was strong and agile, scraping against the ground, and the bells piercing its tail rang gracefully.

Its arrival was so sudden, without any preparation or grand summoning ceremony. Only a few knew that it was merely a whim of an evil god. And the pranks of the gods often bring real disaster.

Gabriel Santo reluctantly noticed that its voice was very familiar.

Iron Hands didn't speak, he simply pulled the trigger and fired.

A dangerous stream of Melta energy roared out of the gun barrel after a brief hiss, rushing towards the speaking entity. It neither dodged nor avoided it, but simply stood quietly in place, gazing at Ferrus Manus with longing in its eyes.

The Melta struck its face squarely; however, this deadly attack only burned the veil away completely, leaving its smooth, beautiful skin unharmed.

The thing sighed and slowly shook its head.

Its eyes held an intense sadness as it slowly emerged from the darkness. At that moment, Gabriel Santo noticed that it had four arms, one of which held an overly simple glass with a drop of blood inside.

"I miss you so much," it whispered. "I was reborn into this world because of my love for you, Gorgon."

Gabriel Santo finally realized who this thing was—or rather, who it used to be.

He gripped the Thunder Hammer with a chilling dread.

"Don't be fooled," Ferrus Manus said calmly. "We can still hear his voice on the communications; he's still fighting, Gabriel."

He looked at it with disgust.

The tall, four-armed creature with a serpentine tail sighed again.

"Me too," it said. "I'm fighting too, Ferrus."

"Shut up." Iron Hands finally spoke to it, but its expression was particularly terrifying.

Without a word, he launched his attack immediately. This was no reckless act, but a premeditated assault. His speed was so great that even the company commander, who was constantly monitoring the Primarch's movements, could not accurately track him.

However, the attacked enemy made no attempt to dodge. It stood calmly in place, its agate-like eyes glistening with tears of sorrow slowly streaming down its face.

The Forgebreaker smashed it down without any hesitation.

Gabriel Santo saw everything clearly.

Blood and flesh splattered everywhere. The head, which bore a striking resemblance to Fulgrim but was far more alluring and seductive, was transformed at this moment by undisguised hatred and violence.

Its long, narrow eye sockets, painted with scarlet eyeshadow, began to shatter, and its eyeballs fell out. The deep red, looped horns that grew from its smooth white hair were smashed cleanly into powder.

The soft flesh on his cheekbones and face began to crumble gradually, revealing a jelly-like texture and an alluring pinkish glow of blood. It scattered along with his severed jaw and flying teeth, while his tongue and gums were cruelly obliterated by the disintegrating force field.

With a single strike, the blasphemous creature was killed, its death a gruesome spectacle.

Of course, this is not the end.

It slumped down limply, but the glass in its hand suddenly wobbled, and the drop of blood swirled six times inside the glass.

And so, amidst the sickening squeaks of flesh being crushed, the monster with a snake tail and four arms cried out, covering its perfectly intact face, and began to wail.

"Let me die—" it cried out in anguish. "—Don't torture me like this, my lord! I can no longer fight him!"

Ferrus Manus raises the Forgebreaker high.

"Bang!"

With a heavy thud, he struck and severed the middle part of its eerie body.

While the gradient skin was beautiful, it offered no additional protection against such a furious attack. The embroidered gold armor, resembling a dancer's costume, twisted and broke, with flesh and blood within turning into grotesque, foam-like flowers.

A kind of indulgent, incomplete, and decadent beauty began to emerge from the broken body of this creature.

It is indeed beautiful, even to this extent.

However, this kind of beauty is regrettable. It transcends the realm of human comprehension, bringing a strong sense of disgust. Yet, despite this, it also blends the two feelings into one, elevating it to a higher realm within the temple of desire.

It roared in pain, yet in such extreme agony, it willingly lowered its body and presented its head to the Forgebreaker.

Iron Hands held nothing back.

The violence was unleashed in a frenzy, reenacting the scene of flesh and blood being torn apart once more. Yet, amidst the swaying of the blood, it was reborn once more.

The serpent's tail swayed, and a powerful force propelled the fallen body to its feet. The blood in the glass began to slosh gently, but Ferrus Manus remained unmoved, calmly rotating his wrist and swinging his hammer.

Amidst the serpent-tailed monster's terrifying scream, the Forgebreaker struck the glass without hesitation.

Then, it remained completely still.

"No—!" the serpent demon screamed first. "No, no, no! Destroy it, smash it to pieces, Ferrus! I don't want to come back to life!"

"Primarch!"

Gabriel Santo roared and threw a power short sword to Ferrus. Iron Hands caught it without even looking, gripped it with three fingers, and slashed down fiercely.

An arm gracefully flew up, the glass wobbled and fell to the ground without being damaged, and the drop of blood was even more bizarre, strangely floating up. Only then did it finally give birth to a second kind of brilliance, a dazzling color full of allure.

It cannot be described or specifically defined; it can be any color, but whatever it is, it absolutely does not belong to the range of colors in the normal world.

It is a tide of desire.

"Destroy it!" the serpent demon roared, seemingly unaffected by the pain of losing its hand.

Ferrus, of course, didn't want to pay it any mind, but regardless of whether there were any conspiracies or tricks lurking within its current description, this drop of blood was inextricably linked to its two rebirths.

Iron Hands narrowed his eyes, and a servo arm extended from behind him, surging with heat Phosphex flames roared and engulfed it—however, in that brief burst of deadly brilliance, a series of screams inexplicably arose from the surrounding darkness.

The demons are screaming.

The roar was high, filled with unparalleled joy. Gabriel Santo looked around and saw Daemon, some strong, some agile, some eerie, dissolving in the musky mist.

Flesh and blood fell from the skeleton like scalding mud, yet their faces continued to scream on the ground, and the darkness grew ever deeper. Then, his eye—his only physical eye—began to melt as well.

The pain was so real, yet he forced himself not to move, simply gripping his weapon with both hands and staring intently at the demonic flesh and blood gathering in the thick fog.

The serpent demon bowed its body in agony once more. Unlike before, this time, its posture contained no desire for death, only absolute submission.

Its breath was warm and fragrant, carrying the scent of flowers, yet its expression was full of sorrow and pain. The mixed emotions were as complex as the contrasting paint on its bare chest, presenting a magnificent scene.

Ferrus Manus glanced at it coldly, and the Forgebreaker was raised high once more.

"Wait." A voice came from the darkness, calm, ordinary, even indifferent. "Don't be so heartless."

Ferrus ignored them completely and simply smashed his Warhammer down.

"Let me handle this myself!" Amidst the splattering blood and flesh, the snake demon screamed, pleading with the calm voice. "I beg you, Master!"

"Don't call me master," a Shadow laughed in the darkness. "Actually, my dear Fulgrim, haven't you realized something? Now, you are my master."

The snake demon stared at him in astonishment.

Gabriel Santo was shocked by the name He called out.

As expected, Ferrus Manus remained unmoved, continuing to swing his hammer and slay the serpent. It was reborn, its blood splattering onto the Iron Hands's armor as if it were a surviving testament.

"In the Chaos waves, I represent many things. I can be love, indulgence, pleasure, or decadent hedonism—but I can also represent unwavering love."

He laughed, a laugh that was incredibly languid, willful, weak, and content.

"What do you think I did by suppressing my claws, gathering strength, and painstakingly shaping you from the turbulent waters into your current form, and then bestowing my blood upon you? Do what you want to do, say what you want to say, Fulgrim."

"He is coming soon, and we only have thirty minutes. He will show no mercy; once He finds me, He will immediately kill this body I have painstakingly created. I will be severely weakened, and I will pay a terrible price—at that time, I will be unable to sustain your existence."

"So, make sure I leave satisfied, my jewel. Do you know how long I've been planning this sudden idea?"

He suppressed his smile and suddenly spoke in a priestly tone.

"Go and love, Fulgrim, for I was born of love."

As the words fell, the mist dissipated, and the shadowy figure vanished into the darkness, leaving only the laughter behind.

The roar of the hoverbike pierced through the surrounding musk-scented miasma, followed by Jaghatai Khan's furious roar. The White Tiger Dao sliced through the darkness, carrying him out of it.

Another figure, wreathed in Black Rage, followed closely behind, along with White Scars on motorcycles, bursting into the darkness, bringing with them endless zombies and a stench—the voice that once belonged to Mortarion, accompanied by the hoarse sounds of his respirator, relentlessly pursued them.

"Fulgrim, help me!" it roared, as if it had known something all along.

Tears streamed down the snake demon's face.

"So beautiful, so beautiful," it murmured to itself, gazing at the giant with white hair as white as ashes. The bells on its tail swayed and jingled, producing a hypnotic, clear sound.

Jaghatai Khan was horrified.

Ferrus Manus gripped his Warhammer in fury.

Gabriel Santo had lost his voice and could only instinctively pick up his weapon, looking around blankly.

Only one person remained calm.

"You lowly thing," the Fulgrim said coldly, its sword already raised high.

Happy New Year!

There are still 6k words left, this is from last year's update. I won't say why it's later, hehe. During the day, I'll go out for a meal and then come back to continue writing.

Incidentally, I did consider whether to include Slaanesh's power during the Siege of Terra, but I ultimately decided to remove that foreshadowing and simply portray him as a god willing to pay a terrible price and time on a whim. His desires were uncontrollable, which is why they turned into sin, which aligns well with my understanding of Slaanesh.