Fulgrim's eyes widened as he stared at Corax, momentarily doubting if he had heard correctly.
"You said you want me to fight alongside you?"
"Yes, was I not clear enough?" Corax nodded.
Fulgrim quickly shook his head, "No, no, I just can't quite believe you would invite me."
"After all, I'm just a clone."
"A clone?" Corax gave a self-deprecating smile, "If you are a clone, then aren't the twenty Primarchs also clones?"
"It's just that there were too many facets of him, a single clone couldn't embody them all, which is why twenty were created."
"You can't say that, you are unique," Fulgrim said. "Your thoughts and souls are free, which proves you are not clones."
"I want to tell you the same thing. Who you resemble doesn't matter, but what your heart desires to do is what's most important," Corax said.
"Thank you for your recognition." Fulgrim gripped the sword in his hand, "I will fight alongside you, Lord of Ravens."
"Very good." Corax nodded.
Whoosh~
A foul-smelling gust of air assailed them, disturbing the mist.
The massive Mortarion landed, flapping his wings, causing the ground to tremble.
He held a giant scythe, and countless flies swarmed around him.
After being repelled by Corax's swarm of ravens, he did not flee, but chose to return.
"Ten thousand years, and you've fallen so low as to fight alongside an impostor?" Mortarion sneered.
"Your mouth is as foul and disgusting as your body." Corax stared at Mortarion's face, retorting without mercy.
The Lord of the Death Guard once had a noble face,
But now, that face had been completely corrupted by the power of the Chaos Gods,
Becoming a twisted, half-human, half-daemon abomination.
Now Mortarion had become the Plague Primarch,
His face was covered in plague-induced sores, some areas already rotten, even revealing bone,
All human features were grotesquely swollen, covered in repulsive slime.
During the Great Crusade, Corax's height was similar to Mortarion's,
But after the latter became a daemon, he grew even taller, making any comparison of their heights meaningless.
They were now different species of beings.
One was still a guardian of the Imperium, a demigod of humanity,
An existence that, in the future, would ascend to become a member of the Human Pantheon.
The other had become a minion of the Plague God, subservient to Chaos, a carrier of plagues and bacteria.
On Mortarion's back were two enormous moth wings,
And his armor had also changed, from the white of the Great Crusade era to the stagnant pool green.
Many foul-smelling censers and trinkets hung from his waist, demonstrating his loyalty to the Plague God.
"You've become as venomous-tongued as Dorn." Mortarion chuckled deeply.
"You are not worthy to mention Dorn," Corax said. "Filth like you isn't even fit to carry his shoes."
"Such weak attacks."
"Are Primarchs always so polite?"
"I can't watch this. This kind of trash talk is torture for a keyboard warrior like me."
The Players who had gathered,
Were evaluating the war of words between the two Primarchs, one after another.
They couldn't stand Corax's attack power.
At this moment, a small Player stepped forward, holding a large megaphone.
"Hey, hey, you big flappy moth, if you're ugly, just roll away, don't block our path."
The megaphone's amplification was extremely powerful,
Directly echoing across the entire battlefield.
Mortarion, facing his brother, still wore a mocking smile,
Taunting the other for still serving a foolish father, unlike him who had seen the truth early and chosen to stand with the Gods.
But when he heard the words of that outsider, the smile on his face froze.
Big flappy moth, how dare he call him that!!
He was the Lord of the Death Guard, the favored of the Plague God, the nightmare of the galaxy.
"A very apt description," Corax quietly added, his words like a knife, instantly piercing Mortarion's heart.
"You—" Mortarion's rotten, bloated face immediately turned dark.
With a buzz, countless flies swarmed from his neck.
That small Player continued to shout, "What kind of trash are you, to be worthy of a duel with the Lord of Ravens? Go get the true Lord of the Death Guard—Typhus—to come here."
Typhus, who was fighting in the distance on the battlefield, widened his eyes upon hearing this.
Ah!!
No!!
I'm this far away?
And I can still draw aggro to myself??
Mortarion's face grew darker. He raised his scythe and pointed it at Corax.
"To send an unknown to face me, your clumsy plan is disgusting."
"Me? An unknown?" That Player raised his voice, "Then what kind of great figure are you?"
"A good-for-nothing who boasted greatly, but was beaten into doubting life by his own foster father."
"Trash who was sidelined by his subordinates and eventually stripped of power."
"A spineless coward who claimed not to believe in sorcery, yet groveled to the Plague God."
"Jaghatai Khan said it was his lifelong regret not to have a decisive battle with the Lord of the Death Guard—Typhus."
Eldrad and the Laughing God's avatar, who were engaged in battle, all looked over, expressions of shock on their faces.
What incredible eloquence this was.
Those who followed the Imperial Saint were indeed not to be trifled with.
That mouth was like it was poisoned, every word stabbing at the heart.
Mortarion was so enraged that his mouth twitched.
How dare he insult him like this??
"I will kill you." Mortarion pointed his scythe at that Player.
He spread his wings and launched an attack.
Corax also moved at the same time.
Their combat talents were equally formidable; they could act instantly without thought.
This was a capability woven into their genetic code by the Emperor when he created them.
Mortarion's attack range was greater, so he attacked first.
The Death Scythe swept in a circle like a reaper,
Corax, however, met it with the Emperor's Claw,
Like the Emperor's Sword, the Emperor's Claw also contained the Emperor's power, thus easily blocking this seemingly unstoppable blow.
The clash of weapons produced a thunderous roar,
Flames and poisonous smoke mixed together, incinerating the toxic gas,
Both sides were moving too fast to be clearly seen.
Mortarion had received the blessing of Nurgle, but Corax had also awakened his Warp essence long ago and gained the blessing of the Emperor's weapons.
In a sense, Corax was more powerful than Mortarion,
Because he would not be bound.
He could abandon the Emperor's blessing, but Mortarion was destined to be forever trapped by the Plague God.
As the two Primarchs fought at their fiercest, Fulgrim seized the opportunity to assist,
Creating a two-on-one situation with Corax against Mortarion.
Dealing with Corax alone, Mortarion already felt overwhelmed,
With the addition of Fulgrim, he immediately fell into a disadvantage.
"Come help me." Mortarion called out to the Khorne Greater Daemons, urging them to assist him.
"Thunder." Ahriman wielded his staff, unleashing a powerful bolt of lightning imbued with Chaos power, forcing Fulgrim away.
But the next second, he was sent flying by a Player's flying kick,
"Your opponent is me, Ahriman!"
That Player shouted as he charged over.
Ahriman waved his hand, and that Player burst into flames, becoming a torch.
"So what if you're an outsider? Can you deal with my psychic spells?"
Ahriman got up, extended his hand, and clenched it, utterly crushing that Player.
"I'm here!" Zigman roared, "Let me see how strong your psychic spells are."
Ahriman wielded his staff, attempting to ignite Zigman, but found his psychic spell ineffective.
He tried again, still ineffective.
"Ah!!"
Before he could try a third time, Zigman swung his sword and cut at him.
"Soulless!!"
In close-quarters combat, Ahriman finally sensed that Zigman was a Soulless, immune to all psychic spells.
"We're coming too."
Don't Eat Beef and White Wolf also charged forward with their swords.
Ahriman blocked a few attacks, then turned and ran,
Shouting, "Help me!" as he ran towards Typhus's direction.
As for the other Khorne Greater Daemons who wanted to help, they were all blocked by the Players.
With no interference, Fulgrim and Corax once again teamed up against Mortarion.
"Let me see your strength, Fulgrim, don't disappoint me." Corax continuously swung the Emperor's Claw,
Scorching golden flames spread across the battlefield, fueled by Chaos energy, burning them to ashes and reshaping physical laws.
"Shameless! Fight me one-on-one if you dare!" Mortarion blocked Corax's talons, only to be struck in the back by Fulgrim's sword. If not for Nurgle's blessing, that single blow might have brought him down.
"If you're so brave, then stand there and let us hit you." Corax paid no mind to the traitor brother's taunts.
"Shameless!" Mortarion was so enraged he spat blood.
Blocking Fulgrim's cleave, Corax took the opportunity to kick him, sending him flying backward.
Thus, Mortarion was beaten without any chance to retaliate,
Only able to barely parry.
One against two, he had no chance of winning.
After being stabbed in the abdomen by Fulgrim and receiving several scorching claw marks on his back from Corax,
Mortarion suddenly erupted, releasing countless toxic gases, then used the cover to escape.
Before leaving, he didn't forget to leave two harsh threats.
"I will return, Corax."
"One day, the galaxy will become the Plague God's garden."
"That big flappy moth sure runs fast." That Player continued to shout through the megaphone.
"I will definitely kill you!" Mortarion's voice came from afar, clearly furious.
Seeing the Primarch flee, the other daemons and traitors also realized the battle couldn't be won and began to retreat.
The Imperial forces and the Aeldari counterattacked, completely driving them out of Ghomorra.
At this point, the plans formulated by Lorgar, Fulgrim, and Magnus had largely failed.
The only success was Vigil.
The undefeated Chaos Warrior, Abaddon, who had never failed in a hundred battles, defeated Calgar who had come to reinforce.
The ritual of the Blackstone Crown succeeded, and terrifying Chaos power devoured Vigil.
The brave and invincible Stretcher Bearer Squad, in a moment of extreme peril,
Fought their way out of the battlefield with the heavily wounded Calgar, escaping back to their flagship.
Abaddon regretted this deeply, but Calgar's Stretcher Bearer Squad was indeed formidable; even he couldn't stop them, only watching as they cut through his forces and departed.
With the fall of Vigil, the Warp tides surged like a breached dam, sweeping towards the worlds not yet submerged.
Fortunately, most Imperial citizens had been evacuated.
Only empty, uninhabited worlds were submerged.
But Abaddon's initial strategic objective was successful: the Nakmund Corridor was destroyed,
Terra lost a crucial navigation route that maintained the integrity of its territory,
From now on, they would have to heavily rely on the Webway.
Just one more Webway war would be enough to completely bury the Imperium.
Abaddon, having just destroyed Vigil and returned to the Vengeful Spirit, learned of the situation on the other battlefields, and the smile on his face instantly vanished.
Mortarion was defeated by Corax, and Nurgle's daemon legions were driven out of the Webway by the Emperor's army.
Sanguinius's soul had been taken; those guys would surely find a way to revive him.
The schemes of Lorgar, Fulgrim, and Magnus had completely failed,
Their only achievement was the complete annihilation of Guilliman's foster mother, but Lorgar was also severely beaten by an enraged Guilliman, almost dying.
"Useless! Primarchs are all useless."
Abaddon slammed the table in anger; it seemed he was the only one who achieved anything.
The great cause of Chaos rested solely on his shoulders; none of the others were reliable.
In the boundless wilderness, a strong giant walked aimlessly.
He had forgotten where he came from, and where he was going,
Sometimes, he would try to retrieve his memories, but a voice in his heart told him not to.
Because memories would bring pain.
A terrifying beast was caught by the giant's upper and lower jaws, then violently torn apart.
The beast died like that, its massive body falling, crimson blood flowing.
The giant did not stop; he tore off the parts he wanted from the beast's carcass, preparing them for his dinner.
When the giant lit a bonfire,
A traveler, carrying a satchel and fully wrapped in a robe, emerged from the wilderness and approached the giant.
The giant ignored the other, simply continuing to roast his dinner.
The traveler also remained silent, just sitting there, occasionally drinking water and eating dry rations,
It seemed he was just a passerby, briefly resting there.
Eventually, the giant couldn't resist and questioned the traveler.
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know." The traveler's voice was hoarse, clearly having endured many difficult journeys.
"Don't you usually decide on a destination before you leave?" the giant asked.
"I didn't leave to go anywhere," the traveler said.
"Then what are you doing?"
"I came to find my child; he is lost in this wilderness, and I want to bring him back."