The Anvil Star System had long since descended into complete chaos.
The human faction, the Ork faction, and the Chaos faction were all tangled together. Everyone except their own side was an enemy.
Lorgar and the other Daemon Primarchs had not sent any of their warships into the battle.
The human captives on Gork's Anvil alone were not enough as sacrifices to open a Warp passage vast and stable enough for their warships to pass through.
But they did not need warships, because Chaos had already infiltrated the Salamanders' vessels.
Guilliman raised the Hand of Dominion and fired several vicious volleys of bolts at Fulgrim, who was charging straight at him.
Knowing he would be facing a brother Primarch who had already ascended to daemonhood, Guilliman had specifically replaced his ammunition with anti-psychic bolts designed to deal with Warp daemons.
The propellant charges of the bolts were mixed with large amounts of Blackstone powder, along with a small quantity of Pariah ashes.
Whenever the bolts exploded in midair, those ashes vaporized into the air and suppressed the combat power of Warp creatures.
Fulgrim, who had been wearing a lewd and debauched smile, immediately sensed something wrong after repeatedly darting aside to evade Guilliman's ranged attacks.
He took several deep breaths of the smoke containing Pariah ashes, and the soulless field immediately began reacting within the Daemon Primarch's organs.
The proud Daemon Prince of Slaanesh began trembling all over, desperately wanting to vomit everything in his stomach.
"My brother, you have made some progress over all these years... urgh!"
Fulgrim muttered sinisterly, while Lorgar beside him swung his Illuminator and brought down a dazzling bolt of psychic lightning.
He had never forgotten that Guilliman was the odd weak psyker among the Primarchs.
The best way to deal with Guilliman was with