Abaddon roared the order for every Ark of Omen to accelerate immediately.
Since leading the Plague Fleet on its rampage across the Milky Way, he had never lost so much strength in a single battle.
Whether for the Imperium or Chaos, manpower was the scarcest resource.
Mortal Rebels and Cultists were relatively easy to find.
But usable Chaos Warbands were far harder to come by.
Worse still, he had lost hundreds of Black Legion overseers stationed aboard those ships.
On the surface of Demonwood.
Watching the Arks of Omen slowly approach his fleet, Guilliman wasted no time ordering the personnel on the ground to evacuate.
From the outset, Guilliman had never intended to defeat these Daemons and Traitors outright. This had been a bold attempt to lure the enemy in, then use the terrifying Pectaro from Iax to inflict massive losses on their forces.
Ever since the fleet had become occupied with fighting the Plague Fleet in space, the surviving Daemons on the surface had begun pouring toward the Dark Angels and Ultramarines who had landed there.
Now, it was time to withdraw.
Rage showed on Lion El'Jonson's face as he surveyed his sons' devastating losses. He glared toward Vashtorr's position nearby and ordered the Dark Angels to provide covering fire for the retreat.
Abaddon had no idea that he had fully ignited a Primarch's wrath.
Just as the Imperial Fleet descended to avoid the Pektaro's high-energy particle streams, Vashtorr inexplicably sensed an unexpected delight. His eyes burned as he gazed up at The Rock, joy spreading across his face.
Deep beneath the battlefield outside The Rock, a damaged Mechanical Parasitic Worm was awakened. Its writhing body slipped quietly out of a shattered heap of metal wreckage and, following Vashtorr's instructions, burrowed ever deeper beneath the fortress.
Vashtorr had his