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"What? Someone who shouldn't exist?" Frikan Malos's heart sank, and a strong sense of foreboding surged into his mind.

He stared wide-eyed at Bella, who was looking down at him from above, incredulous.

Bella's icy gaze seemed to pierce through everything as she coldly said, "In the long river of time, there is no trace of your existence whatsoever."

Now, Spyder has heroically given his life, completing his mission, and you... it's time for you to disappear completely.

Frikan Malhos was utterly astonished. His voice trembled as he retorted, "Are you saying that I and this ship, the Gift of the Gods, appeared out of nowhere without any reason?"

However, just as he uttered those words, something terrifying happened—he felt his body slowly dissipating at a visible rate.

At the same time, under the watchful eyes of thousands of warships, a dazzling white light suddenly emanated from the massive hull of the Gods' Grace.

The light shone as brightly as a star, illuminating the entire Blackrock Fortress.

Immediately afterwards, starting from the eight sharp corners of the fortress, a mysterious power spread rapidly like ripples.

As this force spread, the sturdy structure of Blackrock Fortress gradually crumbled, turning into countless tiny white particles that fluttered and scattered like snowflakes into the endless void.

This awe-inspiring scene struck the Chaos Fleet like a hammer blow, plunging the already distrustful Chaos Space Marines into panic and chaos.

They no longer cared about their so-called combat missions, and turned their ships around, desperately trying to escape this terrible battlefield.

Even the Legion of Word Bearers was struggling to remain calm, with a large number of deserters appearing.

These deserters completely lost their minds and went berserk, opening fire on their own forces and frantically destroying the engines of enemy warships in an attempt to slow down their pursuit and give their allies, who had unfortunately become the primary targets of the Imperial Navy, a chance to survive.

The Iron Warriors Legion's fleet is tightly assembled, forming an impregnable defensive line, doing everything in its power to resist the oncoming Imperial fleet.

Faced with the powerful and numerous Imperial warships, their steadfast lines began to crumble, seemingly unable to hold out for much longer.

Meanwhile, the Iron Warriors' Primarch, Peturabo, had long lost contact with the troops, plunging the entire legion into deeper trouble and chaos.

In the fierce battle, the only remaining Blackrock Fortress of the Chaos faction became the target of everyone's attacks.

It stood alone on the battlefield, enduring the fierce bombardment from the Imperial Navy.

Despite its formidable defenses, this massive fortress could not withstand the relentless attacks of the Imperial fleet.

Finally, the decisive moment arrived.

A devastating bombardment from the Eternal Will slammed into Blackrock Fortress like Thor's hammer.

With a deafening roar, countless cracks appeared on the once incredibly sturdy outer shell of Blackrock Fortress, and the cracks quickly spread throughout the entire structure.

Immediately afterwards, an unimaginably massive amount of subspace energy surged out from inside the fortress, spreading rapidly in all directions like a purple torrent.

The Chaos warships that had been trying to approach Blackrock Fortress for cover were mercilessly swept up by the sudden warp energy turbulence before they could even react.

They struggled desperately in the turbulent vortex of energy, but all to no avail.

Soon, these poor creatures were dragged into the unfathomable depths of the subspace by a powerful force and vanished from the world forever.

On the bridge of the Eternal Will, Horus stood quietly, his sharp gaze scrutinizing everything that was happening before him.

When he saw Blackrock Fortress completely collapse, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, revealing a barely perceptible smile.

Then, he slowly turned around and said to a figure beside him, "Mokas."

Hearing someone call his name, Mokas looked up and gazed in the direction from which the voice came, puzzled.

She saw a tall giant, clad in golden armor, looking down at her.

Abaddon stood respectfully beside the giant.

Mokas was secretly surprised, wondering why this mysterious giant knew her name. She composed herself and asked, "Excuse me... who are you?"

Horus smiled slightly, squatted down, and tried to prevent Mokas from raising his head too high.

He replied in a gentle tone, “I am Abaddon’s father and his Primarch. Don’t be afraid, child, I’ve just come to see you.”

After saying that, he reached out a hand and gently touched the top of Mokas's head.

Abaddon dared not speak, and Horus flew into another rage after learning that he had used Mokas as a tool.

“Treat her well, Abaddon.” Horus stood up and said to Abaddon after quietly purifying the chaotic influence on Mokas. “She will be your flagship.”

"Flagship?" Abaddon asked, somewhat puzzled.

"The Soul of Vengeance hasn't been purified yet; she's been corrupted by chaos for far too long." Horus said, as if he wanted to grab Abaddon and smash him a hundred times over.

“I understand, Father.” Abaddon didn’t see Horus’s eyes, but he could roughly guess what his genetic father was thinking.

"Thank Saint Gilles, for it was he who secured your atonement." Horus said, then turned and left. He wouldn't say who else besides Saint Gilles had secured the atonement expedition for Abaddon.

"That's... Grandpa?" Mokas asked the drastically changed Abaddon, having heard Abaddon address Horus by that name.

"Yes, the genetic father of the Shadowmoon Wolf, your... grandfather."

"So what do we do next?" Mokas asked, sensing that Abaddon was in a relatively good mood.

"We will embark on a redemption expedition in the name of the Black Wolf Warrior. Are you still willing to fight for me, my daughter?"

"Of course! Father!"

Malakin ran wildly through the passage, and when he saw the Holy Blood Tear, tears streamed down his face.

The golden figure with pure white wings brought tears to the eyes of all the mourners. Their genetic father, Saint Gilles, had returned!

When he finally saw Saint Gilles' figure, Malakin suddenly stopped. Although the Weepers were a subgroup of the Holy Blood Angels, they were still on the crusade for redemption, and he had no right to crave his father's approval.

"Come, Malakin, my proud child." Ten thousand years is enough time for everyone to forget Saint Gilles's character; he was an extremely protective Primarch.

The high lords in Terra suddenly felt a chill, as if something ominous was watching them.