Who Was the Son of the Underworld?!

"This might have been an accident..."

Hades said guiltily. The falling stones above his head made his already guilty words sound even more like a mumble.

Around him, countless living-metal constructs gathered, opening a path for the people rising through the air. The crust split apart on its own, earth dragons burrowed upward, and the ground trembled.

Given Sanguinius's size, they definitely could not return the way they had come, so they unanimously decided to simply let Hades dig them out directly.

—They had not used this method on the way in because they were worried about damaging the prison seal too early and affecting Angron, who had been guarding Sanguinius.

So you were saying that you accidentally fell into a Greenskin clan, accidentally decided to become their leader, and then carelessly made them evolve?

Below Hades, Angron hung in midair while gripping his ankle. He raised an amused brow.

My friend, I thought you had formed a bond with those Greenskins. You could have just said so. Valdor wasn't here now.

Custodian Guard Valdor had refused the option of hanging beneath Hades or Mortarion by their feet. The captain-general declared that he would return the original way, and everyone unanimously agreed.

Angron, don't make me throw up on you.

Mortarion said from diagonally below on the other side. Both his hands gripped Guilliman's shoulder guards, while Guilliman held Sanguinius.

Mortarion slowly ascended in a bizarre bowing posture, his wings beating. Angron was certain he could see Psychic Power swelling beneath the Pale Lord's wings, forming an upward current.

Thanks to Mortarion's extraordinary carrying capacity, he could lift two primarchs into the air for extended periods—but this was nothing to Mortarion. Compared to another existence, Guilliman and Sanguinius together were not heavy.

Angron pondered for a moment.

Mortarion?

He looked