The Emperor's Last Will

"Father!"

"My lord!"

With Horus's death, the ritual altar had also fulfilled its purpose.

The enormous Eye of Horus was disintegrating and collapsing. The crimson light of the Warp, cut off from its source of power, gradually faded away.

Horus's corpse in the Emperor's arms was turning into countless motes of dust, silently scattering in a faint breeze.

He had long since reached the limits of his body, and now that the power of the Warp had dissipated, he naturally could no longer maintain his existence.

Lion, Valdor, and the others, who had long been unable to restrain themselves, immediately rushed toward the Emperor. They stared in horror as he stood in a pool of blood, still maintaining the posture of holding and embracing Horus.

Part of the blood beneath the Lord of Humanity's feet belonged to the Emperor, but most of it belonged to Horus, the leader of the traitors.

The blood of father and son had mingled together, giving off an eerie, ominous feeling.

They had clearly won, yet no one could feel any overwhelming joy.

It was as though something was awakening within that pool of blood.

Primarchs as bold and unrestrained as Jaghatai Khan and Leman Russ immediately shed tears of excitement upon seeing their father and sovereign emerge as the final victor. The smiles at the corners of their mouths could not be suppressed.

They had won. They had won!

It was all over!

"Horus is dead!"

Yet Primarchs who were steadier and more reserved, such as Dorn and Lion, still could not stop themselves from trembling all over. Lox saw that Lion had quietly moved his intact hand behind his back, concealing his loss of composure and wild delight.

Valdor devoutly dropped to one knee before his lord, offering the highest reverence and worship.