War God Descends

Milky Way Dust is floating in the dead void. This star field that has been repeatedly ravaged by war has long lost half of the gentleness that stars should have.

The broken Craftworlds hangs under the dark sky. The ancient creation that Eldar relies on for survival is now like a dying giant beast. The shell constructed by Wraithbone is full of cracks. The blue Psionic Energy light leaks from the cracks, like the blood flowing from the giant beast, creating a halo of despair in the cold universe.

Imperium of Man's starships are like ferocious iron coffins, densely packed around Craftworlds. The energy light from the muzzles keeps flashing. The war has already spread from space to the surface of Craftworlds. The yellow sand is soaked with blood. The charred ruins of the walls stand between the sky and the earth. Every inch of the land is filled with destruction and wailing.

Eldar, this ancient race that once dominated Milky Way and had supreme glory, is now forced to a dead end.

Human Ultramarines's battle armor glowed with a cold metallic luster in the sand and dust, and his power boots made a dull and firm sound when he stepped on the broken Wraithbone ground.

They are the sharp blades of Emperor, the most elite warriors of Imperium of Man. Their genetically modified bodies, battle-hardened fighting instincts, and indestructible Power Weapon have made them invincible in battles in countless galaxies. They have always been the only ones capable of crushing alien races. There has never been a time when they were forced to a desperate situation, but they were still fearless of death.

As for Craftworlds and Eldar, there is no way back.

Their population has dropped sharply, and their warriors have been decimated. Aeldari Farseer, the tribe warriors who were once so arrogant that they disdained to look at other races, now have only determination and madness on their faces.

They know very well that if they lose today, the entire Craftworlds will turn into cosmic dust, and the entire ethnic group will be completely annihilated in the history of Milky Way, without leaving even a trace.

Therefore, the ritual that Eldar had sealed for countless years and was extremely taboo was reopened.

Summon the God of War, bloody hand Kaine.

The ordinary summoning of Avatar of Khaine is just a sacrifice of a Eldar elite who was selected as the young king. It uses a single soul as a guide to awaken the fragments of Kaine sleeping in the core of Craftworlds, allowing a trace of the will of the God of War to come to the world and fight for the ethnic group.

But this time, it's different.

Completely different.

The controller of Eldar stood in the center of the Craftworlds Wraithbone temple, surrounded by the dim but still majestic Psionic Energy aura. He looked down at the densely packed clansmen below. In his eyes that had seen through countless futures and fates, there was no hesitation, only the madness of burning the boat.

"Sacrifice, begin."

The five fluttering words spread throughout Craftworlds through Psionic Energy, just like Whisper from Ynnead, ringing the death knell of the entire ethnic group.

There was no resistance, no crying, not even a trace of hesitation.

These Eldar, who were born with glory and died with arrogance, chose the most tragic way at the last moment of their race's survival.

The elderly, children, warriors, scholars, prophets... the entire Craftworlds Eldar, except for a few core members who presided over the ceremony, almost all the clan members took the initiative to move towards the Psionic Energy sacrifice array.

Wraithbone The ground was engraved with ancient and ferocious war runes. The runes lit up with a dazzling blood-red light, like poisonous snakes that came alive, entwining every Eldar sacrifice.

Their souls were forcibly stripped away from their bodies, and the pure and powerful Eldar souls turned into streams of blue light, pouring crazily into the Kaine fragments in the center of the temple.

The pain of having one's soul stripped away far exceeds any torture in the world. It is the ultimate torture of having one's consciousness torn into pieces and one's existence erased. However, these Eldar did not utter a single scream.

There was morbid fanaticism on their faces, and their eyes were full of faith in the God of War, as if sacrificing their own souls was the greatest honor in this life.

One, ten, one hundred, one thousand, ten thousand...

Billions of Eldar souls, like a raging tide, are constantly pouring into the Kaine fragment that has been silent for eternity.

The ground of Craftworlds was trembling, the buildings built by Wraithbone collapsed, fragments continued to fall off in the universe, and the entire Craftworlds was on the verge of collapse in this ultimate sacrifice.

The Eldar controller stood in the center of the formation, with Psionic Energy around him skyrocketing. He personally initiated the sacrificial ceremony and watched his people turn into nothingness one by one. There was no wave in his eyes, only paranoia for victory.

This is not the sacrifice of a soul, this is the sacrifice of almost an entire Craftworlds Eldar group.

The energy gathered by countless souls is enough to tear the world apart, enough to shake the rules of Warp, all of which are used to awaken the God of War Kaine.

In the center of the temple, the originally dim Kaine fragment began to absorb a massive amount of soul energy crazily. The surface of the fragment glowed with a bloody light. The light became stronger and brighter, like a blood-colored sun rising slowly in the temple.

The fragments continue to expand, condense, and shape, and the body of the ancient God of War slowly takes shape in the torrent of souls. Every inch of muscle and every line is filled with the power of war that destroys heaven and earth.

The temperature in the air instantly soared to the extreme, the yellow sand was melted by the baking, Wraithbone was burned and twisted, and the pungent smell of sulfur and blood mixed together, permeating the entire world.

A sense of oppression originated from the depths of the soul, like a mountain tens of thousands of feet high, pressing down suddenly, making all living beings present breathless, and even breathing became extremely difficult.

This is not the Avatar of Khaine who barely woke up and had weak power in the past. This is the completely awakened God of War Kaine who absorbed the entire soul of Craftworlds Eldar.

He possesses one-tenth of the power of Kaine.

Don't underestimate this mere tenth. You must know that Kaine is the most powerful being in Aeldari Gods. He is the embodiment of war, killing, and destruction. He is an ancient god who dominates Milky Way and even Chaos Gods must be afraid of.

Even if it is only one-tenth of the power, it is enough to sweep away all the mortal combat power in the world, enough to make all the creatures in this star field tremble under his feet.

What Imperium of Man's Space Marines, what kind of genetically modified elite warriors, in the face of this level of power, are just ants that can be broken at a touch, and they are not even qualified to touch porcelain.

This is the gap between gods and mortals, a chasm, and an insurmountable gap.

"Roar--!!!"

A deafening roar erupted from Kaine's mouth.

This roar contained endless killing and anger, directly shattering the clouds in the sky, cracking the ravines on the earth, and causing shock waves to sweep across the entire place.

Many Ultramarines who were relatively close were directly shaken by the sound wave and vomited blood. Their armor instantly cracked and fell heavily to the ground, unable to get up again.

The God of War Kaine has arrived completely.

He was extremely tall, and his whole body was burning with the eternal bloody flames of war. His skin was like molten metal, glowing with a dark red luster, and the power of destroying heaven and earth surged under every inch of his skin.

His eyes were two seas of burning crimson fire, devoid of any emotion, only the pure desire to kill.

He held the legendary magic weapon Doom's Lament in his hand, and the sword was wrapped in blood Psionic Energy.

With a single wave, the space can be torn apart and an endless aura of destruction can be unleashed.