Warhammer 40: My Fiancée Fulgrim

Even Khorne's all-out attack just now must have consumed some energy.

But in a subspace where even time and space dimensions don't exist, who could seize this subtle opportunity?

Stupid!

Within Casca's body, an orange-red crystal gradually emerged.

In fact, Khorne wasn't the only one who liked to play big games.

Even Brother Mao will hit you hard on the head with a stick when you're not paying attention, Waaaaagh!

Basically, all the subspace deities that have appeared have been fond of playing grand games.

even?

Even Asuyan.

From Kor'Shak's fall to their encounter with Kasgar, from their meeting to the battle and the display of the artifact, and then to Kasgar bringing the artifact into Khorne's Brass Fortress.

Everything was within Asuyan's plan.

After the orange-red crystal flew out of Kaska's body, an equally tall but more ethereal figure appeared inside the Khorne's brass fortress, confronting it from a distance.

Golden armor and a mask obscuring his face covered his entire body, while golden-red flames burned, instantly reducing any daring Khorne demon that dared to approach to ashes.

He said nothing, but simply sent down the flames in his hand to the three people trapped in their shackles.

The flames, carrying a hint of pain, scorched them, banishing all the corruption from the evil god.

Under the protection of the Phoenix King, no evil spirits can harm other living beings.

Even if they are not of the Spirit Race?

Even if they are not of the Spirit Race.

"Since you are already dead, why continue to cling to the past?"

Even though he knew in his heart that Asuyan had been dead for a long time, the Blood God still seemed to have some fear of the phantom in front of him.

"The future world will surely fall into our hands, so why are you so stubbornly deluded?"

Faced with Khorne's battle cries that could drive anyone who heard them mad, the lingering image of Asuyan opposite Him did not answer, but instead continued to scorch the brass fortress with flames.

The golden-red glow shone even brighter under the reflection of the flames.

Under the influence of the flames, Casca, finally freed from its restraints, looked to both sides.

He looked at the angel who was holding a spear and ready for battle.

And there was Angron, silent, with two lines of bloody tears streaming down his face.

Kasgar could sense that extreme anger.

Angron, for Onomamus.

Let's launch an attack on Khorne!

Chapter 147 Angron, you are free.

Blood surged, battle cries roared, and flames rose.

Stalled before the brass fortress, red and golden-orange light surged and eroded each other in the subspace, but neither could completely defeat the other.

Vast swathes of blood evaporated, and a large number of low-level imps near the center of the battlefield turned to ashes before they could even utter a scream.

Even a high-ranking Khorne demon, under the scorching heat of this level of warp fire, could only roar and cheer for its leader from afar, unable to intervene in the battle between the two gods.

Faced with this stalemate, the god on the bronze throne roared in anger.

He was furious.

Although He has always been angry, this was definitely the angrier He had ever been.

That damned god who had suppressed him for so long had actually appeared before him once again.

Even if it is only a part of a dead god, a fragment left behind by Asuyan, an incomplete existence that could be easily crushed like Kane's avatar, it can inexplicably be almost equal to His power within His own brass fortress—His Blood God Domain!

This is an insult!

How could the decaying legacy of that dead god be compared to the might of the Lord of Skulls, the King of War?!

But no matter how angry the Blood God is, he still cannot change the current stalemate between the two.

Now, all that's needed is an opportunity.

A trigger, someone who has enough power to break this balance.

Apart from the two gods facing off, the entire brass fortress consisted of only Saint Gilles, Kasgar, and Angron.

"It was you! You ruined everything I had?"

Angron stepped forward. He raised his head and spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Angron!"

"Don't be impulsive! We can wait for the angel to recover and then attack Him together!"

Kasgar tried to persuade him from behind, but it was clear that Angron did not agree with Kasgar's point of view.

This has nothing to do with victory or defeat; it's simply the most primal and essential form of revenge.

Angron continued to stare intently at Him.

The other person's eyes clearly conveyed the deepest hatred, yet they didn't utter a single word.

He just stared intently at the blood-red phantom on the brass throne.

Khorne can feel that extreme hatred and anger. It's delicious.

If the illusion could cloud his perception, making him believe that the angel beside him was Khorne, then both of them would be driven into a frenzied battle.

How delicious it must be when the victor finally comes to his senses after ripping out the opponent's heart!

Unfortunately, the phoenix fire of that damned denier (Asuyan) was able to dispel His scheme, which was a real disappointment.

"I know your tricks, you devil!"

"My hatred will never stray!!! Never!"

He ruined Anglon's life.

Damn demons, disgusting creatures!

Although Angron wasn't entirely clear on what kind of being he was facing, just now, when Onomamus transformed into its bloodthirsty berserker form and leaped towards its master, it was clear that...

Angron understood all of this.

This deep red, demonic creation is the true controller behind Nukelia.

It was neither the eyes of those maggots floating in the arena, nor the high-ranking knights.

Those people are not monsters; their situation is just as tragic as ours. Don't blame them.

There are monsters far more ferocious and vicious than them; they are the true targets of your anger.

At this moment, Angron recalled the teachings of Onomames.

He never lied!

The real monster must have truly been a monster all along!

It's that blood-red phantom sitting on the throne!

Everything it did was to bring Angron under its command and make him its eternal gladiator slave to serve it.

For this reason, Khorne orchestrated everything in Angron.

It's like putting a different human soul into a vessel called Spartacus, hoping that Angron can rise up like this hero of slave rebellion on ancient Terra, and ultimately die with a heart full of resentment.

The mastermind behind it all could then watch the poor man's struggle as if it were a real drama, and feel sorry for his final fate.

—Even if it orchestrated all of this itself.

Whether it was his experience of being arrested in his youth, or the duels he fought as a young man; whether it was his power being suppressed to the point that it was no longer worthy of being called a Primarch, or the uprising and ideal of freedom that he could never realize in his lifetime.

It's all false.

Including Onomamus, who truly considered Angron as family.

Its determination was unwavering, and its will to resist was intense.

Even Khorne himself could not bring it back under his control and had no choice but to completely eradicate its existence.

Angron moved.

Facing Khorne's direct gaze and the terrifying pressure of the God of Blood, he did not feel the slightest bit of cowardice.

After realizing that everything he had was being manipulated by the other party, Angron, who had escaped the brain-in-a-vat trap for the first time, truly felt his own power for the first time.

That Primarch power that had been suppressed and accumulated for countless years!

After the Phoenix King's blazing fire burned through Asuyan's phantom, all the malice and seals from Khorne on his body were released at that moment.

Angron, the Primarch who can absorb the emotions of others, unleashed his full power for the first time without the Butcher's Sting.

His muscles twitched and veins throbbed uncontrollably, as if he were regaining control of his body for the first time. He let his body change and power surge, but he still stared intently at the Blood God.

A surge of power was gushing forth within him, even though, as a Primarch, his power was indeed far too weak compared to that of a true Warp God.

Are they weak?

He didn't say a word, he just kept running forward.

With a single step, ancient golden-red flames, accompanied by a halo, enveloped Angron's body, and a condensed power, like armor, was added to his skin.

Next came the shoulder armor, arm armor, and helmet.

With each step he took, Angron's aura and power increased several times over, like a knight facing a dragon's provocation, as Angron charged toward the phantom on the brass throne.

Even at the very end, just as his body was about to be crushed by the surging force, he leaped high into the air with his hands clenched.

Like a shooting star, it launched an attack on the extremely asymmetrical, blood-red phantom.

"Roar!!!"

Angron, who had leaped into the air, let out a deafening roar.

There were no threats, no words.

Faced with the purest and most genuine hatred, no words can describe the rage that was rising in Angron's heart at this moment.

Any words would only tarnish and dissipate Angron's anger at this moment.

Only a roar carrying the most primal rage could express Angron's true intention at this moment: he only wanted his opponent to die.

Only death!

Only then can we seek justice for the suffering he has endured over the years, and only then can we make the gladiators who betrayed him pay the price!

Only then can Onomamus's hatred be washed away!

With Angron's roar, a slightly ethereal longsword, burning with golden flames, appeared in his loosely clenched hands.

He didn't know how all of this came about, but it all happened naturally with his attack.

It seemed that beyond the Blood God's domain, countless people or gods were supporting Angron's counterattack against Khorne in their own ways.

Not only that, but just as he was about to strike the blood-red phantom, a bright red light flashed.

Even Khorne's own blessing was bestowed upon Angron at this moment!

I'm hitting myself!

It's somewhat strange, but perhaps Khorne didn't want to bless the other side.

But as the lord of blood and skull, He could not refuse such intense hatred and rage, nor could He refuse the desire for a satisfying battle with Angron.

It wasn't just that he couldn't refuse psychologically, but rather that his path as a warp god truly required him to bestow a portion of his power upon the other party.

Perhaps encountering such a challenging opponent in ordinary times would only bring Him pleasure and excitement in His anger.

But things are different now.

Not just Asoyan!

Khorne could sense that his monopolization of the angels and Angron had incurred the wrath of other Chaos forces.