Originally, Caleb wanted to say something rigorous to continue guiding Lion.
But now that his chess piece had broken through the dimensional wall and developed a certain level of awareness, he certainly couldn't use that method anymore.
Clearly, Lion now considered the guidance and voices in his head to be instructions from his Father.
In that case, wouldn't it be wonderful to just go along with it?
Caleb: I'm merely reminding you. Don't go huffing and puffing on the spot when a few Fallen Angels pop out later! The mission to garrison the hive city is one you must execute. As the eldest son, you should learn how to be more composed!
As Caleb input this passage, Lion, who was still commanding the battle on the sand table, was momentarily stunned.
Wait, his greatest secret had already been revealed?
Could it be that his Father really already knew about that matter?
On the sand table, Lion's sweat had already dripped onto his own pieces.
Those bean-sized sweat drops were visible even to the knight captain beside him, The knight captain thoughtfully offered a towel, but the gesture was rejected by Lion.
"Wait!"
Lion, the huffing lion, used his last bit of stubbornness; he simply couldn't accept the fact that half of his Legion had turned traitor.
Right now, he was like a child who had caused trouble, facing his parents.
He didn't want his shameful history to be known by his elder.
Lion El''Jonson: How is that possible? You know everything? Impossible. At that time, You shouldn't have even ascended the Throne, and even Sanguinius shouldn't have been dead yet!
No, that's not right! Are You truly Father? If it's true, how can You prove it?]
[System Notification: Your chess piece has been detected to have doubts about you. If you cannot play the role given by the system well, it may cause this unit to go out of control.
After going out of control, you will no longer be able to Designate this unit, and the unit's attributes and Designate entries will disappear from your hands.
Looking at the system prompt, Caleb couldn't help but start sweating profusely as well.
Some Primarchs still had sharp minds, especially this piece who loved keeping secrets.
Caleb: Perhaps you should ask Luther and Cypher what exactly they did. When the day comes that you catch those two, the whole truth will come to light.
With just this one sentence, Caleb re-established trust with Lion, and at the same time, this sentence made Lion's head smoke again.
It's over. The two most important Fallen Angels have probably said something very incredible to the Emperor.
Now, if Lion doesn't catch those two, he really won't be able to eat or sleep in peace.
"Dammit, those cursed Fallen Angels!"
"Just what exactly did they say in front of my Father!"
"No, sooner or later, I have to get my hands on those two bastards!"
"I must personally interrogate those two traitors severely. I must ask clearly what those two bastards said in front of Father!"
Caleb's riddle-master maneuver had almost caused Lion to explode on the spot.
Because he now had to figure out what kind of secrets those two damn Fallen Angels had leaked.
At the same time, he also had to figure out what exactly these two guys had done.
"Lord El''Jonson, have you made some new discovery?"
"If it's a discovery regarding the Fallen Angels, let's terminate all current missions!"
"The lives of the people here are far less important than the Fallen Angels, perhaps we should abandon all defensive lines and quickly capture the Fallen Angels left outside!"
The knight captain beside him was clearly very serious; after all, he was a green chess piece, not a black one from the 40k era.
In other words, every Terminator warrior here was a member of the Inner Circle; at the very least, there were no issues with their memories.
Every member of the Inner Circle naturally knew their mission. Besides the so-called loyalty to the Imperium, the most important thing was to catch those damn traitorous Fallen Angels.
In order to protect the secret of the Fallen Angels from being leaked, these veterans would even dare to kill the Custodes by the Emperor's side.
Never mind the Custodes, they would even strike at a Primarch of the Loyalist Faction.
If Guilliman learned the secret of the Fallen Angels, then tomorrow the Dark Angels' Rock would forcibly land on Macragge and turn it directly into ruins.
"It's nothing! The battlefield is under my control. I haven't found any traces of the Fallen Angels! It's just that, my Warp instincts tell me that those traitors have done something very significant! They might even cause the Emperor to have doubts about our loyalty. This is very bad!"
Seeing their Primarch's solemn expression, even the Terminators nearby felt their hearts leap into their throats.
If the worst really happened, then the fate of their First Legion would be truly uncertain.
Lest they be forced to rebel, they would truly become the most clownish traitor legion in the entire history of the Imperium.
"Lord Primarch, then we—!"
"Don't worry, continue to be loyal! It's just suspicion. A trial has now descended upon us! Perhaps I need to understand exactly what my Father wants me to do; otherwise, I won't be able to eat or sleep in peace!"
The veterans of the Dreadwing fell silent, because they understood that only the Primarch could handle such matters.
Although they didn't know how they had encountered the Primarch, complete memories were a luxury for the secret-keepers of the First Legion.
Caleb: 7 days! Garrison this place for 7 days. At the appropriate time, I will give you the answer! I will visit the battlefield in another form; you only need to wait!
After dropping these words, Caleb cut off direct contact with Lion.
He didn't dare to directly remote-control Lion now; he only dared to transmit some battlefield situations directly to Lion to let him understand the state of affairs.
As for continuing micromanagement like Generalissimo Chiang, he really didn't dare anymore.
If he kept operating like that, the chess piece would start questioning him!
"Seven days?"
Lion also noted this time; he would guard the Soladis hive city with his life for 7 days.
When the Chaos Army launched its general offensive, it happened to be the early morning of the 3rd day.
With the addition of organized World Eaters warbands, the pressure on the entire hive city defense perimeter became greater and greater!
The predator tanks deployed by Caleb were constantly firing, and two dark-green dreadnoughts were pouring firepower toward the enemy.
The veterans inside the dreadnoughts let out one battle cry after another, they would fight to the last moment for the Primarch behind them.
"Warriors, follow me! In this battle, I do not allow you to fail! If you lose, change your name to Space Wolves for me, and don't call me your gene-father ever again."
"We are the sons of the Lion! We only know victory! We will not falter!" Even the Dreadwing veterans couldn't quite keep it together.
It wasn't because the Primarch was too humorous, but because this punishment from the Primarch was too damn cruel!
As everyone knows, the relationship between the Dark Angels and the Space Wolves was already bad to the extreme.
If their unit was forcibly renamed to Space Wolves, or became part of the Space Wolves, it would be an immense humiliation for the Dark Angels!
It would be like the Imperial Fists renaming themselves the Iron Warriors; such an act would be no different from recognizing a thief as one's father.
Consequently, this offensive battle involving the World Eaters was turned into a reverse-offensive by this group of Terminator veterans.
Because looking at the front line, it wasn't them defending at all, but the First Legion attacking, reverse-attacking the Khorne positions.
"Holy crap, is this reasonable?" a commander of a World Eaters warband complained.
"Are these all just dead men?"
"Why does it feel like these Loyalist guys are killing even more crazily than us?"
"Why are we fighting the First Legion?"
"Why can't you elite warriors under Khorne's Skull Throne out-slash them!"
Just as he voiced this doubt, Lion's blade had already slashed into his neck.
Behind him, a patch of bushes had grown at some point, vines spread through his entire room, causing the room full of skulls to be completely taken over by the forest.
"Impossible, how did you appear behind me? Do the base lackeys of the Corpse Emperor only dare to sneak attack and not fight a proper duel with a champion like me?"
Clearly, this outstanding warrior was not convinced, he only felt he had been ambushed by the enemy, not defeated in a fair fight!
Unwillingness and anger bred in his heart, immediately causing his flesh to mutate, even repairing that visible wound just now.
"How truly hideous!"
Lion did not stop the opponent's recovery process, because even if he recovered, he would still be a weakling.
Lion had this confidence, because among the many Primarchs, his combat ability was already at the top level.
Lion of the past used the the Emperors sword like a game of elimination; at that time, he was the living nightmare of the Imperium's enemies.
Even Horus before his daemon-ascension might not have been able to beat him.
Back then, he had killed countless enemies, even some beings more powerful than a Primarch.
Relying on one man and one sword, Lion's First Legion had also achieved illustrious military merits in the early years.
If Horus hadn't returned so early, then he might have been able to contend for that so-called position of Warmaster!
Even now, Lion felt that compared to that traitor, he himself was more suitable to sit in the position of Warmaster.
"Coward!"
The Chaos Champion in front of him roared as he stood up, his body showed multiple distortions, and an extra arm had grown out of his shoulder.
But quite clearly, at this critical moment, he had activated some kind of profane ritual.
This sacred dueling ritual could only result in victory, otherwise his soul would perish.
That's right, this traitor had actually initiated the ascension ritual at this moment.
Win and become a Daemon Prince, lose and become a Chaos Spawn.
Now Lion had been chosen as his opponent.
And Khorne also appreciated his courage, so he bestowed heavy blessings upon this chess piece.
"Oho, Khorny Flake is applying buffs!"
"But I reckon he'll still be kicked to death by the Primarch like a stray dog on the roadside, right?"
Seeing the enemy mutate, Caleb was not worried that his chess piece would suffer any major losses.
Originally, these pieces were Terminator veterans who were incredibly tough, and plus the combat literacy of the two sides was not on the same level, it was a one-sided slaughter.
On many battlefield levels, it might take a dozen World Eaters to force one Deathwing Terminator veteran.
Moreover, the Loyalist who was carried off was very likely only injured; as long as they recovered, they could rejoin the battle.
Rounding it up, the First Legion had suffered almost no losses while they had nearly wiped out the Chaos forces.
And the Chaos side had no good way to face these Terminator power armors.
Teleportation was just that useful; before many large-caliber weapons could hit, the Terminators had already teleported away.
"Die!"
Three arms smashed toward Lion in a very strange posture.
Two axes plus a heavy hammer—this force and power had already surpassed a regular Astartes by a lot.
However, unfortunately, what he was facing was not an ordinary Astartes, not even a so-called Chapter Master.
Because what he was facing was a genuine Primarch, a blonde young woman with complete Primarch stats on the gameboard!
"Get lost!"
Lion parried the incoming hammer and axe with one hand, then directly slashed down with the sharp blade in his other hand along with the other axe handle.
The power axe in the opponent's hand, along with his entire body, was sliced down by Lion.
And precisely because of this, this Chaos champion who had managed to step into the ascension ritual finally met his end.
"No!!!"
His body became distorted, almost no different from a Chaos Spawn, however, even turning into a Chaos Spawn could not save his life.
The body vanished like powder, immediately after, the Blood God's army, which had seemed solid and reliable, retreated like a tide for some reason.
A pillar of red light shot into the sky, followed by a glowing skeleton with demon horns, looking at Lion with a vicious gaze.
"It's you ruining my plans again!"
"I will definitely defeat you and eat you completely!"
"Your head will become my trophy. Just wait, I will eventually cut off your head!"
After leaving these harsh words, the demon in front was banished back to the Warp.
It turned out that the World Eater's body had long since been occupied by a demon.
He had transformed into a demonic shell and became the vessel for this demon.
But now that the vessel had disappeared, this Greater Daemon-level demon could only return to the Warp.
In time, he would descend again when the opportunity arose.
And quite clearly, the God of War behind him, the Blood God Khorne, had a better candidate.
"Failed?"
On a massive Skull Throne sat an extremely huge figure, shaking his head in disappointment.
His will quickly reached the ears of this failure...
Expressing his feelings of disappointment to him.
"Blood God above, next time I will definitely succeed!"
"I will prove Your path with the wildest slaughter!"
Ð̵̲͙̭͓̗͑͑̇͗̈́Ö̸͖̠̖͍͙̃͋̊̍̐ ̵̨̬̺̗̆́̓̉̚͜ñ̶͍̱̻̖͈̐͋̈́̏̿Ö̵͔̟̯̹̈́͑͂̽͘ͅ†̸͕̤͍̖̒̏͋͑͛ͅ ̵̡̧̖͈̹͛̋̀̑͘K̷̛̫͇̜̪̠̐̑̊̇ņ̴͈̥͈͔̃̔̀̽͛́Ę̶̠̥͚̬̀̉́̋̊͝È̵̦̻͉͓͖̓͊̿̈́͝L̸̨̛̠̠̈̉́̄ͅͅ!̴̧͈̬͈̬͐̿̈͘͝
Khorne's anger directly made the demon who was about to kneel stand up. This is the Brass Citadel, and no act of submission is allowed!
Submission means death; even the Blood God looks down on any act of surrender.
"̵̝͔̭̭̖͓͙͛̃̇ͅF̵̨̧̬̟̤̯̦̭̻̥̀̓̂̇̈́͋̏̔͘͝͝ḯ̶̪̰͉̼̭̱̐̃͆́̾̎́͗́͒̉̚͜͜͝ͅg̶̻͐̆̎̈͂̍͒̕͝h̵̙͛̕͘t̵̡̼̼̯̯̤̻̋̆̉͑́̀̊̐̋̆̈́̌̊̕͜͝,̸͕͕͔͙̙̥̜͂̎̔̉̈͗̒͘ ̸̣̬͎̮̅̈͗́̓̔͝f̴̢̹̗̖̳͂͐́͗̈́̇̑͝͝ì̷̢̛̛͊̕͜g̸̮̘̱̪͈͈͌̓͛̊͘͝h̶̢̠̳̤͔̰̜͔̠̦̞̙̑̉̌̌t̵̫͚̦̫̮̣̩̒͋̑̍͌͒͒̈̀͐̕͠ ̸̛̙͓̈́͌͊̓̋̊́͝t̶̨̧̰͙͇̖͖͇̣̙͖͙͒̏̉̚o̶̧̭̥͓̟̭̽̑̑̽̌͜͝ ̷̨͔̳̺̦̖͖̜͇̤̐̍͐͗̉́̓͋̄͂͂̂͗̔̕t̵̛̘̿̌̓͗̈́̀̾̒͑͆͘̕͠h̵͇̲͕͒̅͜͝ͅě̶̢̧̢̗̹̱̮̻͖̫͋̑̊̆̆͛̀̔̆̂̌̓ͅ ̷̟͓̮̖̤͂̒̀l̵̢̛̦̖̜̠͖̲͚̜̹̝͍̉̀͌̓̆̏̿̓͘͠͠͝ą̴̧̨͓̮̯̗̗̦̲̞̃̊̃͐͂̇͂͒̀̇̎̽ş̵̢̙͍̾̇̂͛́̚ẗ̵̠͈̫̗̦̯̖̥̟͉̼́̈́̅͆ ̶̱͂̔̈́̈́͑̀m̸̘̱̫͛̑̑̚ͅơ̵̘͉̽̃̓͗̈́̂͐̐̕ḿ̵̨͂̑̏͑̀̇̉̂ẽ̵̫͉̱͙̠͙͕̱̙͆̈́́̏̅̐̎͑͗́n̵̼̘̠̾̑̃̌̈̾͆̈́̎̉́̈́̕͝t̴̡̢͕̭͖͇̙̪͌̋́̒̋̽̅̈̿͋́̿̐͘!̷̡̨͍̣̱̣̣͇̦͉̬̦̭̹̝̔̉̐"̶̢̛̛̗͚̭͈͚̖̠̞̲͌̈́̑̓̅́͆̽̏̇́͘͜[1]̴̟̗̭͈̞̻͕͖̗́̓̌͊͂̏͋͘͘͜͝
̴͂̆͌̓̋̽͊̿͋͘
̷̨̻̘̼̞̹̼̞̜̜̲̾͛
̵̨̛̻͖̞̩̫̓̌̿
̴̢̨͎̮͔̲̹̰̠̻͙͚̳͔̈́͌͗̆̅̀̈̆͘͘"̷̧̨̨̰̦͖̗̠̝͎̤̳̤̏͊̈́̌ͅI̶̢̧͚̮̲̳͔̥̻͖̪̺̘͗̇̿̃͆̿̾͛̓̊̃͘͝͠ ̴̨̞͚̟̱̗̀͗̏͑̇̄́̈̊͛̓̆̚͝d̶̰̲̖͋̃o̶͔̟͓̳̦̻̔ ̶̙̙̦̬̟̠̰̗͍͕̈̐̄̉͌͒͊͛ń̴̢̙͇͖̖̰̣̫͂̆̂̌͊͐͛͜͜͝͝ͅǫ̷̧̛̬̞͔̬̰̞̼̗̂͂̎̆̉̂̓̈́͋̚t̶͔̪̱͇̣͂̈́̆͋͝ ̷̧̻̩̤̤̜͈͉̟̠͐̏̑́̈́͋̒̎͂ḻ̴̬̖̻͉͖̜͆̓͐̃i̷̢̨̠̖̞͉̤̳̫̯̱̊̾̽́̕͝ͅk̴̳̲̖̏̄̍̀̔͐͋̑͒̔͒͝e̶̩̫̤̫̖̹͔̘̥̥̞̤̓̅̐̔̾̐̇͗͝ ̵̛̱͇͍̘̜̭͙̠̣͖̎̈́̈̊ç̵̭͍̈̀̌̆̽̈̚͜o̶̢̨̖̘̗̮̠̯͔͔̱̝͕̐̅͌͒̑̅̃̉̍͒̐̊̓͘͠ẅ̷̜̘́̈́̑̆̀͊a̵̙̟̭̤͓͆̈́̍̒̀̓̆̅̀r̵̼̘̲̔̉ḑ̷̦̞̩͊͒͝ş̴̡̞̪̬̖̻͕̺͗̈́́̈́̋͆̿͑̀͆̚̚,̷͉͔͐̇ ̸̡̙͖͚͈̪̎͊͠İ̸̡̢̬̪͉͇̻̣̫̼̉̏͑̇͜ ̸̮̯̠̭̦͙̤̙̤̪̪̲̉̑͛̌̑̋̋́̂̕͜͠͠ȟ̵̡̡͔͕͕̫͈̭̤͇̖̰̝̗̒̒̾͐͐́͋̀̈́̋̈͌͘͝a̷̳̎́͒̃͌̆̋̅̈́͗̈́t̶̡̞̪̩̜̞̭̫̝̪̦͔̥̘͗͆̆̃̒̃͂̆é̶̢̨̢̛̤͚̹͕̱͉̭̘ ̷̨̖̝͈̫̮̗̪̗̱̾́̇͂̕͘c̷̢̢̨̮̪̬̳̫͇̀̏̅̽̌ǫ̵̺̳͔͍̪͔͙̜͎̺̤̜̺̩̑̈̌̈́̉̄̕w̶͖̜̾͆a̴̡̖̘̤̞͍̭̹͍͈͓̒͗̒͘r̶̢̰̮̝̙͔̙̦͓̔̍͂͜d̶̻͈̾̓̌̊̈̈͐͒̆͝s̵̡̧̰̠͔̗͙͍̯̙̣̻̀͋̑̈́̉̋͊͌̀̓̎̚̕͝!̷̡̛͚͔̯͖̞͈͇̤̈́͌̍̈́̎̊͂͛̒͛̆̅͘͘͜ͅ"̴̧̡̗̰̘̟̠͕͉̗͔̬̎̔̑͛̐̉̉̕[2]̵̪̺̖͑̿͊̆̒
̷̯̊̀̋̈́̔̀͊̍͋̂́̚
̵̠̗̳̙̩̠͖͕̗̳̯͔͚͇̌͒̓̀́͌͜
"̶̡̱̠͚̓̈́͘͜͠Ö̸̧̧͚̤̥̆̂͑̄͘ñ̷̡͙̦̫̞̏̅̋̈́̕l̵̛͚͔͙̳̱̂̑̚͠¥̸̼̦̗̗̘̍͒̿̄̕ ̸̳̘̝̰̯̐̒̃̍͠§̶͈̲̮̦̩͑̅͊̀̋l̴͇̥̱̝͂̀̈́͛̀͜ǻ̵͈͇̠̮̱̊͑̊̄µ̸̞̘̠͇̰̀̇̋͘͝g̷̛̯̟̬̗̟͂̔̑͘ḧ̸̢̻͍̻̱́̃̓͛͛†̶̢͎͎̤̤͒͒̎͝͠ê̸͎̘͉̪̠͛̏͌̆̃r̵̨̘̙̬͙͐͂̊͛̃ ̸̣̦̳̬͎̌̀̈́͗͛¢̸̬̭̜̭͍̃̍̇̀͠å̶̜͇̼̦̈͒̈̌̽͜ñ̵̪͉͙̩͎̈̒̓͋͆ ̴̛̣͓͈̫̣͆͗̿͘g̶̣̖̤̲͔̔̏̆͘͘å̵̢̡͈̯̮̉̉͂͂͘ï̵̱͕͎̺̣͒̏̅̃͝ņ̸̛̫̠̘̃̈́̾̃̑ͅ ̸̢̘̪̺̻͊́́͋͠m̸̻̖͔͕̀͂͌͒̂͜¥̶̭͖̘͇̪̂͐̽̓̂ ̴̢͓͖̗͙͗͐̈́̽͠å̸̧̬͈͔̳̇͐͒̇͝þ̶̨͈̮̞͕̒̌̆͊͒þ̴̨̱̭̥̲̄̂̋̔͝r̶̹̞͈͕̮͋͊̆́͘ð̶̛̬͓̘̦̟̀̏͂̎v̴̢̨͚̫̪̅͊͌͌̂å̷̘̳̪̫͖̔͂̔̈̾ḻ̶̡̡͔̀̑̊͛͂ͅ.̸̮̪͍̆̌̄̅̕͜͜ ̶͚̥͚̱̹͒̏̀͝͝Ö̶̧̰͉̩̠̏͆́̽̈ñ̷̺̙̳̬͎̀̒̇͘͝ľ̴̩̦͎͕̼̑̀͊̃¥̸̹̜̺̫͉̀͆͑̕͠ ̸̰̘͕̪͍̿͆͐͋̚ß̵̯̬͓̜͉̇́̃̓̒¥̴̺͉̜͉̞̆͋̃̽͑ ̸͙̥̤̞̭̈̃̋̾̑¢̶̨͕̫͈̭̋́̉͗̄ð̷̡̣̟̻̖͒̒̋͒̎ñ̸͓͖͓̞̣̿̏͐̋̓§̴̧͍̥̩͕́͆̍̎͝†̷̙̰̻͈͗̂̓̏͊ͅå̴̩̟̲̠̥̽̓͊̋̽ņ̷̥̘̣̱̃͆͑̈̑̋†̸̗̗̜̩͎͂̈́̆͐̃l̶̛̬͔̯̟̹̂̋͛͝¥̶̱̱̟̳̫̈́͋̋͂͝ ̵̟͈̻̲̞̍̅̽̒͒£̴̛̤͇͍̼̀̑̆͋ͅï̴̻̤̗̝͔̏̋̽͗̀ģ̵̡̗̖̪̂̈͛̕͠h̶͍̹̰͙͔͑́̓͒̏†̶̨̤͓̅͒̌̀̕͜͜ḭ̶̭̭̜̈̍̌̾͐̕͜ñ̴̥̲͇̳̝̈́̈́̐̐͗g̶̢̬͍͕̯̒͊̓̈́̍ ̸̡̱̩͖̜͆͗̈́͋̾å̵̛͇͇̟̻̭̊̇̄̇ñ̴͔̲̗̻̀͋̓͌͘ͅÐ̵̢̠͈̹̝͗̿̀̀͠ ̴̧͉̜̘̩͑̅͝͝͠§̷̣̹͕̮̭̊̊̃̓̈́µ̶̯͇͚̝̤̇̍͘̚͝m̷̢̺͍̪̳͌͗͊̋͝m̷͈͙͇͎̪̽̋͛̽̕ð̴͓̖̗̩̘̅̓͒̈́͝ñ̸̳̖͕̠̳͛̇̔̐͘ï̸̜͔͙̝̭̍̈́͑̈̊ñ̵̢̮͖̪̥̂̈̊̅͠ģ̶̗̳͉̣̂̓̅͑̚ ̴̡͓͓̖̋́̽̐͜͝†̶̱̥͎̱̪͐̎͌̆͠h̵̟̜̱̪͊͒̐̚͜͠ê̸̡̘͉̞̬̊͆̅̈́̽ ̷̨̱̙̖͈̿̓̾̓̕¢̸̦̳̩̣̿͐̍̌͘͜ð̸̢̩̦̖̞̈̑̑̌͝µ̶̢̩̹̺͕̍͗̐̃͠r̴̮̜̼̖͍̊̌̒́͑å̵̟̯̗͎̬͊̓̑͑͘ǵ̵̛̯̳̜̬̞̄̌͋ê̶̞̙͓͊͑͑͂͆͜ͅ ̵͙̥̝̫̮̓͂́͘̕†̶̛͓̥̥̬̹̽͌̓̉ð̴͇̫̘̲̮̊̐̀͠͝ ̵̬̯̠͇̩̈̅͛͗͒£̴̧̙͚̻̉̃̃͒͝ͅï̵̩̭̱̙̳̈́̒̔́̍g̸̢͈̲̞͍̿̃̋̀͝h̷̛̩̗̣͇͈̒͒͊͋†̴͖͚̩̘̗̋͑͌̓̓ ̴̧̰̫͉̭͋͂̋̍̂w̴̬̩̱̰̌̐̿̽͠ͅï̴̼̲̤̯̻̒̓̉̏͠l̷̯̟͓̱͗̄͛̔̐͜ļ̵̧̲̩̗̾̔̊̈͗ ̵̘̦̘͉̘̐͋̓͂̌Ì̷̛̭̜̟̠̽̀͆͋ͅ ̶̘̳̫̬͑̏̽͊̕ͅğ̴̱͈̟͚̥͒͆̓̕ï̶̡̛̺̳̖͑̌̎͜͝v̷̛̖̰̫̰̪̔̿͒́ê̷̥̺̤̳̹̍̓̉͐͝ ̴͍̬̙̬̺̐̃́̿͠¥̸͍͉͈͈͍̊̏̀̔̅ð̸̺͈̝̙̝͂͌̂̚̚µ̷̧̗̹͇̖̊̓̃̑̔ ̸̘̝̫̬͚̎̅͑͒͝m̶̡̧̬͉̆̈̈́̏̾͜¥̷̫̻̱̞̖̈̂́́͝ ̵̡̻͔̻̗͐̀̎͗̎ß̸̱͕̫̞̺̉͒̌̾̾ľ̵̛̠̱̭͓̱̈́̇͋ê̶̯͇̜̠̫̋͊͌͋̎§̷̧̢̥̘͎͗̃͒͊͘§̸̤̘͖̯͉͆̔̅̈́͘ï̸̮͇͙̩̞̾͒̔̚͝ñ̶̬̺̳̰̳̂̓̀̓̓g̵̛̪̙̟̥̙̋̋̏̐!̷̢͇͓̬̝́̋̇̂̓"̸̵̡̹̯̫̭͎̖̥̤͎͕̦͖̱͚̱͔̯̋̔̔̎͐́̀̈̇̄͑͋̈́̽͊̄̉̓͝ͅ[3]̴̖̼̱͔̝̲̲͙͔̤̣̝̊͂͂
The violent will constantly echoed in the Warp; this was the most essential will of the Blood God.
Almost every Chaos Daemon of Khorne yielded to this will, and this will was very pure to them—the purest desire for slaughter.
No excessive words, just a simple expression of will.
However, such a way of expression was enough to fill one's heart with rage.
They would indulge in the endless desire for slaughter, even forgetting that in this endless slaughter, they would become part of Chaos.
"Weak and powerless!"
An even taller figure appeared before this Khorne Daemon, carrying overwhelming rage and, the purest desire for slaughter.
The Butcher's Nails echoed in his mind, and the existence of the Butcher's Nails was the best proof of his connection with the Blood God.
[1] "Fight, fight to the last moment!"
[2] "I do not like cowards, I hate cowards!"
[3] "Only slaughter can gain my approval. Only by constantly fighting and summoning the courage to fight will I give you my blessing!"