"Those guys again. They really do love joining the fun."
The Orks charged over and actually began besieging them, instantly infuriating Tzeentch.
Right now, the Warp and the material universe—seventeen thousand races across both realms—were resting on his shoulders. He was saving the Warp, ensuring it could continue existing within the material universe, yet these Orks were causing trouble for him right in front of him.
He watched Gork and Mork, the two lesser gods of the Orks, pounce toward him.
They had not gone straight for Khorne, clearly aware that they could not beat him head-on.
"What are you doing?!"
"Come on, let's have a little exchange." Gork took the front while Mork stayed behind. Gork held a weapon behind his back, and so did Mork. Gork drew attention from the front while Mork prepared a sneak attack from behind.
Watching the two work together, Tzeentch looked as though he were about to explode with rage, gasping for breath.
But perhaps he was casting some kind of secret spell.
"I have business today. I won't hold it against you."
Tzeentch did not want to fight those two. After all, he would be the one to suffer if they fought. And if he did fight them, how was he supposed to carry out his subsequent plans?
Slaanesh, meanwhile, had also been thrown into turmoil by his own people and could find no peace. On one hand, Slaanesh's Palace of Pleasure had been attacked again. Perhaps the Aeldari had broken in to seize the last Crone Sword within the palace, forcing Slaanesh to divide his attention and preventing him from fully concentrating.
On the other hand—
Attacks against him had begun appearing across the battlefield. Fulgrim, who had originally betrayed the Imperium and fallen to Chaos, had somehow been fed some