The Battle Son Arrives

Guilliman, who was preparing to "purify and absorb" the last few remaining Red Corsairs soldiers, suddenly raised his head, a genuine look of surprise flashing in his azure eyes.

His Psionic Energy senses detected a sudden surge of extremely unstable Warp fluctuations in the battlefield area. These fluctuations were complex, cunning, and filled with a repulsive sense of "scheming."

Above that area, the space itself began to become bizarre and fantastical.

It was as if an invisible labyrinth, inlaid with countless mirrors and prisms, was rapidly unfolding, rotating, and folding.

Light is distorted, colors are separated and recombined, and the structure of reality groans under its unbearable burden.

Immediately afterwards, from the center of that visual disaster, a figure descended as if forcibly "squeezed" out.

It was a huge, bizarre, and repulsive two-headed bird.

It possesses broad wings covered in feathers that shimmer with an eerie blue light, but most terrifying of all are the two heads growing from its neck:

One bird is old and withered, covered with wrinkles and traces of wisdom, its beak curved like a hook; the other is relatively "young," with sharp eyes and a malevolent vitality.

The mouths of both heads were opening and closing, speaking in two completely different tones, saying entirely contradictory things:

The aged head. "... Long time no see, sacred Primarch. The loom of Destiny trembles once more because of you..."

Young head. "... Your end is near, the least favored child of the Cursed One! Your transformation is meaningless!"

The most famous messenger and Tzeentch, the Lord of Change, the embodiment of deception and lies—Cairus the Fate Weaver!

Guilliman narrowed his eyes, his vigilance instantly rising to its highest level.

The appearance of Kylos means that Tzeentch's attention has been directly focused on this area, which is far more troublesome than a reckless attack by Skarbrand.

Moreover, listen to its words...

"It seems..."

Guilliman thought to himself, the golden flames on the Emperor's Sword silently burning. "This guy's 'prophecy' or 'spying' has also been deviated from due to my appearance and the upheaval in Ultramar..."

So that's why it had to temporarily change its convoluted plan and get involved itself?

This confirms one of his conjectures: his existence and actions are themselves a huge "variable," stirring up the predetermined "Destiny."

"You are different from the 'original'... Primarch."

Both bird heads turned towards Guilliman simultaneously, their voices overlapping to create a mind-numbing buzzing echo, "But it's meaningless! In the endless sea of change, your tiny ripple... is insignificant!"

Kairos brandished its claw-like, staff-like forelimbs, making the surrounding blue labyrinthine illusions even more solid, as if to drag this space completely into Tzeentch's domain.

"Where did this noisy, pestilent bird come from?"

Guilliman chuckled, his voice not loud, but carrying the Primarch's unique authority and undisguised contempt, clearly overpowering Kylos's double voice:

"Tzeentch, that coward hiding deep in the labyrinth, too afraid to crawl out of his turtle shell himself?"

"You actually sent someone like you, a deformed piece of trash who can't even speak properly, to deal with me?"

This statement clearly struck a nerve with Kylos.

Both bird heads emitted a piercing shriek at the same time:

"Presumptuous!"

"You're nothing but the least favored son of the Cursed One!"

"I'm more than capable of dealing with you!"

"If it weren't for that damned, angry stone head that forced its way in and disrupted my elaborate plan..." the old man complained in frustration.

"I could have arranged a more 'glamorous' and more 'unexpected' ending for you!"

The young head added maliciously, "But it's not too late now! It must be me! It must be the power of Tzeentch that brings you back to the eternal labyrinth!"

Your 'changes' must be incorporated into the blueprint of the Lord of Change!

With Kelos's shriek, a dense, teeth-grinding screeching sound and Whisper emanated from the ever-expanding azure labyrinthine phantom behind it.

Immediately afterwards, countless demons of various shapes and sizes, all bearing a distinctly Tzeentch style, surged out of the labyrinth's "doors" like a tide!

They mostly resemble twisted humanoid or bird-like creatures draped in tattered blue robes.

They wield staffs that resemble giant quills, books inlaid with eyeballs, or geometric weapons that constantly shift their shapes.

They stood silently in rows, their eyes gleaming with calculation, curiosity, and malice. Their sheer number instantly overwhelmed the size of the previous Red Corsairs and the small Slaaneshi Daemon.

However, Kylos's "entrance declaration" wasn't quite over yet—

"Awooo--!!!!!!"

A roar, more ferocious and impatient than before, seemingly capable of tearing the entire Warp, exploded from the depths of the wreckage of the warship ravaged by Skarbrand below!

It's Skarbrand!

It was thoroughly enraged by Kelos's appearance and incessant chatter!

It hates these scheming blue bastards the most!

A flash of crimson light appeared, and the enormous figure shot into the sky from the breach!

In one of its massive claws, it clutched something—the severed head of the Ultramarines!

No, look closely, the Ultramarines is not dead.

His lower body and arms were nowhere to be seen. The wounds were brutally "burned and sealed" by a dark red, scorching energy, which stopped the bleeding but also brought endless pain.

His remaining head and part of his torso were held in Skarbrand's hand like a trophy, his breath faint.

But the indomitable flame that belonged to the Ultramarines in his eyes had not yet been extinguished.

Skarbrand ignored Kylos and his blue minions, instead brandishing the "remains" in Guilliman's direction with a showy air.

Then, with a roar filled with provocation and destructive desire, he casually hurled the dying warrior toward Guilliman's location like trash!

At the same time, it raised its head and let out a blood-stained battle cry, a summoning cry, towards the depths of the Warp!

As if in response to that battle cry--

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The Warp the Veil flanking the Guilliman fleet was torn open in an even more violent manner!

It wasn't just a crack, but an entire scarlet fissure!

From that rift, churning with blood and fire, echoing with the sounds of eternal battle.

One after another, massive, menacing warships, adorned with countless spikes, skulls, and blood-stained ritual objects, swarmed out like a school of sharks drawn by the scent of blood!

These warships are crude and primitive in style, yet they exude the purest aura of destruction.

They are the war fleet of Khorne!

The deck was teeming with roaring Bloodletter, Bloodcrusher, Skull Cannon, and many more unspeakable bloodthirsty demons.

Their goal was clear—to kill! To destroy! To offer the most abundant skulls and blood to the Blood God!

Primarch Guilliman's head was undoubtedly the most dazzling sacrifice among them!

The two Chaos Gods, by a twist of fate, have come together at this time and place, creating a chaotic and dangerous standoff!

Tzeentch's schemes and Khorne's fury pressed down on Guilliman and his Expeditionary Force!

But at this moment, Guilliman could hardly see the overwhelming tide of blue demons, nor the approaching Khorne fleet.

His gaze was fixed on the tattered blue figure that Skarbrand had thrown at him, which was tumbling through the air like a rag doll.

Those were his offspring.

He gave the child new life.

Just moments ago, he was fighting for the Legion's honor, carrying out the "human" ritual he had taught him.

Now, they are being trampled, mutilated, and humiliated by demons like trash!

A chilling rage, capable of freezing even stars, like the extreme compression before a supernova explosion, simmered and boiled within Guilliman's chest.

The golden-blue Psionic Energy flames surrounding him were no longer burning majestically, but began to burst and roar out of control!

The Laurel Crown on his head resonated with the "Destiny" armor, and the golden flames on the Emperor's Sword soared into the sky, scorching and distorting the surrounding space!

He reached out, and a gentle surge of Psionic Energy cradled the critically wounded Ultramarines's body, gently handing it to the arriving medic.

"For courage and glory..."

The Ultramarines was still roaring unconsciously.

"This perfectly describes you, my son."

Guilliman touched his child's head.

The Ultramarines slowly fell asleep under his father's caress.

Guilliman's gaze passed over the noisy Tzeentch Daemon and the roaring Khorne vanguard.

In the end, like two red-hot branding irons, they were firmly welded to Skarbrand, who had just landed back on the ram of a Khorne warship and was pounding his chest and howling in victory.

Guilliman spoke.

The voice wasn't loud, but each word struck the very foundation of reality, carrying an unquestionable, absolute will and overwhelming killing intent befitting the king of humanity.

"You... you piece of trash."

He raised the Emperor's Sword, its tip pointing directly at Skarbrand.

"I--"

"I'll take your head—"

"Chop it off--"

"A gift to my brave child!!!"

The oath was sworn, the Primarch was enraged, and the War Child descended!