With Magnus and Angron, those twin Primarch pillars, gone, the remaining Thousand Sons, World Eaters Space Marines, and the Tzeentch and Khorne daemons that had been summoned instantly found themselves leaderless.
Though their numbers remained vast and their savagery undiminished, the coordinated combat barely maintained under the Daemon Primarchs' command immediately fell apart.
The battlefield swiftly shifted from an evenly matched slaughter into an extraordinarily efficient harvest.
Especially after that jet-black figure rejoined the battle.
Doom Slayer's armor had been restored to pristine condition by some mysterious power. His crimson visor swept across the chaotic battlefield, cold and efficient.
He no longer needed to exert himself as he had against the Primarchs. To him, these enemies were nothing but "trash" awaiting disposal.
Supported by emergency treatment from several Apothecaries and potent combat stimulants, Lion barely managed to stand straight.
He refused the stretcher and insisted on witnessing the battle's end with his own eyes.
He walked through the devastated passageway, his gaze passing over heaps of Chaos Space Marines and daemon corpses, over the bloodstained armor and mangled bodies of his own warriors, and over the central junction that had been utterly destroyed by Doom Slayer and Angron's earth-shattering clash, now reduced to twisted framework and exposed conduits.
A massive breach pierced through several decks, and the biting chill of the void faintly seeped through the temporary force-field barriers.
The Ark of Will, the Forerunner flagship carrying out the Hilling Empire's diplomatic mission, looked as though some colossal beast had savagely bitten into it, leaving behind a horrifying wound.
Over the communications channels, damage reports from every ship in the expedition fleet kept arriving. Each cold number struck the Lion's heart like a hammer.
"...Indomitable Truth, confirmed destroyed..."
The Lion listened in silence. His face, hard as rock, showed