My Life as A Death Guard
Chapter 507: Lorgar Aurielian!
Lorgar clutched his head.
Mortarion… Lord of Death… come quickly.
He was broadcasting his location to Mortarion, calling out to the Lord of Death as desperately as he could.
Horus was not in the command center. To ensure the Lord of Death could find Horus's position immediately, Lorgar prayed to Mortarion without ceasing.
The gold thread sewn across the Primarch's eyes and mouth had completely burst. Liquid gold blood now flowed ceaselessly from Lorgar's eyes, ears, and mouth.
"You are your own..." Lorgar whispered, "You cannot let them deceive you, Lupercal."
Opposite him, Horus grinned, his mouth stretching to an unnaturally wide angle. Arcs of lightning crackled across the Claws of Horus.
"I have my own measure!" the Warmaster roared, lunging at Lorgar.
Lorgar immediately retreated. He swung his scepter, igniting a blazing golden fireball that hurtled toward Horus.
The golden flames erupted against the Warmaster's armor, blossoming into several fiery bursts. The metal on the armor's surface melted, dripping down like tears.
"You are being used!" Lorgar roared.
In the cramped audience chamber, the distance between him and Horus was rapidly closing—a disastrous development for a Primarch who specialized in ranged spellcasting.
As Horus bore down on him, Lorgar gripped his staff with both hands and swung it like a club.
The Lightning Claw clashed with the Golden Staff of the Emperor, erupting in a blinding flash of sparks. The two combatants locked eyes, each seeing in the other's gaze a reflection of madness and utter defiance.
"I am being used..." Horus murmured, the High Gothic words slipping from his lips. He stared at Lorgar, his clouded eyes flickering between lucidity and insanity. "And who is the one using me?"
Horus wrenched his hand back with a sudden, violent jerk. The immense force transmitted through the staff sent Lorgar stumbling. The Word Bearer Primarch instantly regained his footing, continuing to chant the name of the Lord of Death in his mind.
The ritual left him weakened—but it was a necessary sacrifice.
"The Emperor?" Horus sneered, his blood-rimmed eyes fixed on Lorgar, his eyelid twitching.
Madman, Lorgar thought. Traitor. Egoist. A man who projects his own selfish desires onto the divine.
Lorgar shook his head. "He bestowed life upon us. Why do you still harbor such hatred for Him?"
Horus roared with laughter as he charged again. The Warmaster had abandoned Worldbreaker, obsessively using his Lightning Claw to tear at Lorgar's flesh. Lorgar was forced into close-quarters combat, struggling to fend him off.
The Word Bearer Primarch was not a warrior by nature. He repeatedly unleashed his psychic power, barely dodging Horus's strikes. But as the darkness from the depths of the corridor surged forward, Lorgar's ability to channel his power grew increasingly sluggish.
Lorgar stared at Horus, hoping the Black Domain He had created would grant the Warmaster a moment of clarity—even just a moment. Could it erase the pain for His eldest son?
But it was useless.
Completely useless.
This shouldn't be—this is impossible, Lorgar thought. My own psychic power has grown so cold it can barely be rekindled, so why is Horus still so frenzied?
Had the False God's power truly grown this strong? Or had Horus truly resolved to embrace the lie?
Either possibility filled Lorgar with grief.
He repeatedly repelled Horus's maddened assaults. The Warmaster seemed to have abandoned all defense, utterly indifferent to whether his next attack would leave him vulnerable or inflict a mortal wound upon himself.
On the colossal ship being devoured by darkness, the divine gaze was slowly withdrawing, turning toward the even more lethal, decisive battlefield.
The wind whipped up by Horus's attacks grew more ferocious with each strike, yet Lorgar felt his own strength slipping away... not just the Power of the Emperor, but also the Power of Chaos trapped within his body.
Another heavy blow! Lorgar parried Horus's Lightning Claw, its tip stopping just inches from his nose. Arcs of lightning erupted, searing his face.
Watching Lorgar clumsily wipe his face, Horus sneered, his eyes a mixture of lucidity and madness.
"In melee combat alone, you can't beat me, God-monger," the Warmaster said with ease. "Weren't you the one who said I was relying on the power of others? I think... perhaps you are more deserving of your own earlier assessment than I am."
Lorgar remained silent, clutching his face where golden blood flowed freely. Horus was right. His power came from his faith, from his god.
After all, he had already sacrificed everything he was.
Lorgar shook his head calmly, his features regaining a certain divine serenity. "Who said I was relying on anyone else's power?"
The next moment, Lorgar's head erupted in violent flames. The head within the fire screamed, and a brilliant light burst from the Word Bearer Primarch's body! For an instant, even the charred armor below his neck gleamed with a blinding white light.
Horus immediately recoiled, staring in astonishment at the Lorgar he had so thoroughly despised. He raised Worldbreaker into a defensive stance—No, this was impossible. In an environment with such low psychic resonance, not even Magnus could wield such immense power!
Lorgar, his entire body wreathed in flames, slowly drifted into the air, emitting a deafening crackle. Within the raging fire, his figure was almost completely obscured, leaving only a blinding radiance.
"What in the—"
Horus stood rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed warily on the sphere of light. But then, he realized something.
He drew his pistol and fired at the orb. The burning bullets passed straight through, exiting the other side and striking the wall.
Horus immediately charged the sphere of light, seeing the massive hole it had just blasted into the wall behind it.
Peering through the breach, he saw a figure sprinting toward the ship's stern at the far end of the corridor.
"—Lorgar Aurelian!!!"
Horus roared in fury. "Stop him!"
The next instant, the explosives Horus had planted in the corridors of the Vengeful Spirit detonated. Boulders and rebar rained down, crushing the Word Bearer Primarch as he sprinted.
Horus pursued, Worldbreaker held aloft. By the time he reached the battlefield again, the god-monger charlatan had already stumbled back to his feet.
Lorgar stood amidst the corpses of dozens of Sons of Horus.
Horus recognized every single one of them.
Lorgar laughed, leaning on his crozius to support himself, his gaze meeting Horus's with the utmost contempt.
When dealing with a traitor, Lorgar thought, one should subject him to stoning. If that is impossible, one must at least spit upon him with the deepest scorn, so he may know the vile nature of his own soul.
"Planting explosives on your own flagship?" Lorgar murmured. "Is this truly you, Horus? I recall you being far more miserly with your possessions."
Behind him, Lorgar could hear the river of death surging against the broken walls. Before him, Horus stared back, wreathed in flames of black and crimson.
"It doesn't matter anymore," Horus seemed to mutter to himself. Worldbreaker, the mace in his hand, gleamed with a cold, ruthless light. "They all have to die—everyone has to die. Do you understand, Lorgar?"
Lorgar continued to smile with his usual nonchalance, but the expression froze on his face a moment later.
Horus's attitude, Horus's words, the gambles and manipulations between the False Gods... the Warmaster's fleet, stationed at Cadia's equator.
Lorgar seemed to understand.
He tried to contact Mortarion again, but the chaotic Warp storms and interference had severed all outward communication.
For the first time, Lorgar—who had already resolved to die and return to the Emperor's embrace—felt a surge of tension.
The only Pilgrimage Road had been blown apart.
Lorgar raised his staff, facing the furious Horus once more.
His eyes remained steadfast.
"Come."
. . .
"We can make it."
The Primarch closed his eyes. After receiving Corax's message, the Vanguard Fleet from the Second Empire had already set sail.
The soldiers behind him hesitated at his words, but the Primarch remained silent, eyes shut, waiting for the final moment.
"If they won't go... I will," he whispered.
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Tn: I updated the story once every 2 days, but if you want to see more chapter of this story ahead of time, please go to my Patreon.
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