The cultists who arrived immediately afterward witnessed the hellish, purgatory-like massacre.
It took them about five seconds to realize that numbers were completely meaningless in front of Zeke and his group.
Panic spread through the enemy ranks, and this mob actually turned and fled.
The Lion decisively struck out, joining forces with Zabriel to swiftly dispatch a batch of them before they could scatter and escape. When the Lion finally stopped, his arms were covered in dripping blood, his feet stood in a pool of gore, and there were no living enemies left around him.
After clearing out these underlings, Lion El'Jonson rarely paused to catch his breath.
"I am slower than before," the Lion added, muttering to himself.
Zabriel revved his chainsword to finish off the enemies severely wounded by the Lion. "From where I stand, you are just as lethal as you ever were, my Lord."
"If only that were truly the case," the Lion said to himself.
He had indeed slaughtered his way through the enemy horde without a single scratch, but compared to his past battles, he found that he had significantly regressed.
His movements were slightly slower than before, his strikes slightly weaker, and his stamina not what it used to be.
"One must eventually yield to old age, unless... you can stay young forever."
After confirming that the Machine Spirit was merely slumbering inside the Poké Ball, Zeke pulled out the golden dandelion.
The dandelion's petals were a brilliant golden yellow, reminding Lion El'Jonson of his own formerly beautiful, flowing blonde hair.
"It can return you to your youth, sweep away the decadence, and let you be yourself again."
Zeke's devilish whisper entered the Lion's ears, stirring ripples in his otherwise stoic heart.
The Lion's heart reacted immediately; if it was truly as Zeke said, then it would naturally be excellent.
"I can give it to you, but on one condition."
Before Zeke could even state the condition, the Lion shook his head. He hated the feeling of being beholden to anyone.
"A truly strong person is not just strong on the outside, but on the inside. Do you think I would feel despair just because I have grown old?"
The Lion expressed disdain for the golden dandelion, though the frequent glances he cast toward it betrayed his true thoughts.
"As long as you don't mind Guilliman's mockery, I think you'll be fine," Zeke laughed.
Guilliman, standing beside them, looked at Zeke. He would never mock his own brother.
These words smashed fiercely into the Lion's heart. Yes, what would my brothers think when they saw my aged self?
The Lion reached out his hand, but Zeke had already put the golden dandelion back into his backpack.
Opening his mouth to speak, the Lion then obediently closed it. Making him beg someone for something was simply impossible for him to do.
The group stayed in the hangar for a little while longer. Seeing no other enemies coming, they continued their advance deeper into the fortress.
The signs of desecration deeper inside the fortress became increasingly blatant as they progressed.
The walls were already covered in all sorts of paintings. At first, they were just rebellious, profane graffiti, but they gradually transitioned into dizzying Chaos scriptures.
They encountered no further resistance along the way, until they arrived before a massive, ornately carved door that was easily four times Zeke's height.
The pattern engraved on the door depicted a robed figure with majestic wings, hands clasped tightly around a longsword.
"Sanguinius," the Lion muttered to himself.
Sanguinius's magnificent image had already been defiled.
The noble face had been replaced by a Space Marine skull, while hideous marks and twisted, leaping monsters were deeply carved around the angel.
"The Red Moon Keep originally belonged to a successor Chapter of the Blood Angels, the Ruby Crescent," Zabriel explained.
No wonder it was called the Red Moon Keep. Zeke was just about to take out his pickaxe to smash the door open when Guilliman stopped him and pulled a lever next to the door.
"Hah, usually isn't the rule that 'this door cannot be opened from this side'?"
The massive doors slowly opened with an overwhelmed creak.
The space ahead was dim and lightless, filled with a pervasive white mist.
"He came just as expected, didn't I tell you?" whispers drifted from the mist beyond the door.
"You were waiting for me?" the Lion demanded. After pondering for a moment, he strode into the white mist. "Show yourselves."
Inside the room was a Chaos Sorcerer and two fallen Space Marines.
These were far more formidable than the previous underlings. It took the Lion quite a bit of effort, and he sustained two severe injuries, before he barely managed to finish them off.
Zeke once again held up the golden dandelion and waved it in front of the Lion. The Lion turned his head away, trying his best not to look at it.
He found a cogitator terminal in the corner of the room, and the communications on it recorded a set of coordinates.
It was a hellish Daemon World: Wyrmwood.
The Lion stared intently at the systemic location of Wyrmwood. After multiple comparisons, he confirmed without a doubt: this was the long-destroyed Caliban.
During that misunderstanding many years ago, Caliban had been bombarded into fragments, but someone, for unknown reasons, had actually pieced Caliban back together.
Its appearance had drastically changed, and its ecology had undergone a massive transformation. The Chaos forces had given it a new name: Wyrmwood.
Exactly who had done such a thing? And for what purpose? The Lion pondered.
The homeworld of Caliban hid absolute secrets that could never be leaked. Upon learning that Caliban had been remade, the Dark Angels would return to their homeworld at all costs and then destroy it once again.
It was practically a living trap, set specifically to force the Dark Angels to gather.
Whether it was for his homeworld or to save the Dark Angels, the Lion felt he had the necessity and the obligation to go and take a look.
Having digested this information, the Lion's mind was made up, and he inquired with his companions.
"If you want to go, then let's go." Zeke also leaned in, read the message, and roughly guessed who the mastermind was.
And if he remembered correctly, it seemed Sanguinius was also there.
His companions had no objections. The Lion then used his special ability: Forest Walk.
A winding path blooming with fresh flowers and green grass appeared before their eyes, illusory and unreal.
The beginning of the path was just as it had always been—a winding trail of green grass paved between bushes and tree trunks.
The surface was littered with massive, jagged beds of rock. The flames of war in the sky pierced the heavens; intense combat was currently raging on Wyrmwood.
In the sky, Zeke spotted an acquaintance's fleet: Abaddon's Vengeful Spirit.
Relying on thousands of years of accumulated strategic experience, Abaddon, aboard the Vengeful Spirit, was personally leading his fleet to purge the Dark Angel loyalists in orbit.
But the loyal Dark Angels were absolutely not fighting alone. On the bridge of the Strike Cruiser Wrath of Absolution, Sanguinius was staring intently at the screens.
Sanguinius had originally come to welcome the Lion's return, only to stumble into this situation halfway.
He stared unblinkingly at Wyrmwood, its bright silhouette illuminated by the star's glow.
Sanguinius did not know why the Dark Angels were launching such a massive, full-scale attack on this world, but he could clearly feel their intense desire to completely erase it.
He would never sit idly by and watch the Dark Angels be destroyed by the enemy. He decisively issued the order to join the battle, engaging in a fierce orbital struggle against Abaddon's fleet.
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More Powerstones = More Chapters!!