Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 551 Everyone is using pseudonyms, haha. Then I feel relieved...right?
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"If what I witnessed that day changed anything forever, I would say that I fundamentally realized that I had greatly underestimated the confidence and arrogance of the emperor sitting on the throne of Terra because of my previous selfish desire to free the people from the Eternal Guard. I couldn't believe that someone dared to create twenty such creatures, and then let them lead the children to carry out the most brutal part of the war, and told them that they were human beings like us, so they must always stand before humans. My God! Did he think they were all robots that would never grow up and have no brains of their own?! I can only say that it was a good thing that there were a few of the most normal people among them who took over the responsibility. Otherwise, I really dare not imagine what terrible things will happen to humans after the Great Rift opens. What will happen to the bodies and souls of all of us? I don't even want to assume."

——————Excerpt from the memoirs written by Ursaka E. Creed, the Lord of the High Castle, "The Fall and Rebirth of Cadia", the first handwritten draft, the unofficial version, this version is stored in (data hidden), publication and reproduction are prohibited, and it is only for those with permission to come and read.

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As the surviving Cadian soldiers retreated, they heard terrible howling coming from the tunnel hall behind them.

It was a sound that could only be produced when fear and the deepest despair mixed together.

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"Hey, we are Astartes, and Astartes have no fear."

Tarik Torgaddon raised his weapon, and as he blocked the Warmaster's fearful retreat on the other side, he smiled with all eight teeth showing, "Remember? Ezekiel?"

The Great Plunderer roared in confusion and fury like a wild beast that was forced into a corner. The invisible, dim and powerful force of the Most High fermented inside his skin, tearing off the veil of tenderness towards him. However, his fighting skills and strength were unquestionable, and the blessing of the dark god and more combat experience helped him.

The Warmaster wielded the Claw of Horus to hold Garviel Loken's sword in place, while attempting to swing the Draconian through Torgaddon's heart.

The magic sword roared with excitement. Such a wonderful murder and such an intimate connection happened between the souls of the warriors here, shining and burning like stars.

"Of course! Horus is dead! And you! You are dead too! You too! All of you!" he roared, the dark power enveloping the last of his human head. "You were dead a long time ago! Tarik! You died on Isstvan! You became Tomagadon! And they killed you again on Terra! Loken killed you!"

Loken's jaw tightened, and he raised his power sword to slash at the weak point of Abaddon's armor, but even the power weapon specially made by the Destiny Steel Armory seemed to have difficulty in causing real damage to this Terminator's body. The surface of the armor was cracked, and the situation inside was dull and deep, emitting a strong smell of sulfur and corruption. The light of the blade disappeared as if it was sucked into a black hole. The Shadow Moon Wolf pulled back the blade with horror. Fortunately, its surface position shook a few times and recovered again.

"Oh, so I can hit you harder today?" said the Astartes with the voice and face of Abaddon's former colleague on the Shadow Moon Council. "It sounds like I'll have two chances after all."

"The dead should lie quietly in your corpse pit." Abaddon said gloomily, and at the same time he recovered from his initial surprise. He began to move, and the cave vibrated. More Nightstone and ordinary stone fragments peeled off and fell, like a whirlpool, tornado, avalanche, tsunami or mudslide. The concrete embodiment of natural disasters descended here at this moment.

The primarch-sized claws came down fiercely towards his head, and Torgaddon raised his weapon to block it. A sharp and harsh friction sound rang out between his blade and claws. At the same time, he drew his bolter and fired several shots at his braided head amid the Warmaster's vicious curse - and then he was surprised, like some extra-dimensional hunters, to find that he could not penetrate the defense of the Warmaster's face.

Even so, any other warrior would not even be able to put up a fight against the now-blessed Warmaster, but the other two members of the Shadowmoon Council's understanding of Abaddon and the stronger and faster mobility provided by their new armor allowed them to temporarily join forces to attack their former colleague. However, they were also surprised to find that Abaddon had indeed become much stronger than they remembered and was already a formidable enemy.

Neither Loken nor Torgaddon asked Abaddon a crucial question: why, as the Chief Captain, he would equip the Claw of Horus as a weapon, but each of their swords carried a silent, deeper, more sorrowful and pure rage of revenge, for one person, for many.

The sword blade was raised high, the explosive bomb flew out, the sword blade fell, and the claw blade intersected.

Around them, the past and the present, the dead and the betrayers, roared at each other with war cries that had not been shouted out in ten thousand years, and began to continue the battles that had not been resolved ten thousand years ago.

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Just as the Shadow Moon Council was in a fierce battle of three men short of one after ten thousand years, on the other side of the melee battlefield, the Primarchs - mainly Fulgrim Ishtar and Robert Mercury Guilliman - finally stopped fighting with doubts due to the efforts of Ferrus Garuda Manus and Fulgrim Pallas.

Of course, one of the main reasons may be that the Thirteenth Primarch has become too ancient, powerful, and powerful because of some remedy, and some domineering power that Jinba is unwilling to point out has leaked out.

To the extent that the precious and sophisticated illusion camouflage device produced by the Lord of Steel was overloaded, the faces and figures that were originally concealed by the illusion camouflage began to become obvious, and could no longer deceive the minds and eyes of the viewers as perfectly as before.

Short blond hair covered the shaved scalp tattooed with scriptures, a smooth and full forehead replaced the horned skull, baby blue eyes replaced amber pupils, and those scriptures looked more like a variant of the Mark of Purity, while the blood-red armor gradually revealed a beautiful ultramarine luster as they looked at Serantes, who was lying on the ground unable to move and dying, with tears in their eyes.

However, the true appearance of this set of armor looked very crude and simple compared to those glorious veterans from ten thousand years ago. Apart from being hastily painted with ultramarine, it had no decoration at all, and there were a large number of exposed rivets and patches, as if it was pieced together by craftsmen who lacked time and experience. It was hard to imagine that the Thirteenth Primarch had just worn this thing to fight against the Contemptor Dreadnought which was more agile than one could imagine for such a long time.

——So the Contemptor Dreadnought is not right either. Why is a Dreadnought not using its heavy firepower and not equipped with power claws or siege fists, but performing high-speed swordplay? The key is that it is really fast? Fast enough to fight a Primarch in close combat?
The black-armored giant who rushed in to separate them was even more skilled and daring. Who was he? Which noble and brave Primarch was this? Why did he hide his personal emblem and legion emblem and put himself in the legion colors of the Iron Hands? The reason why he was not marked as the Primarch of the Iron Hands was that Ferrus Manus's appearance was so distinctive that no one would mistake the pair of silver hands, and this person obviously did not have the famous iron hands.

"I am..." Just as he was about to open his mouth, the space around him seemed to darken for a moment, and the sound of huge wings and claws flapping and rubbing impatiently came from outside of reality. "It's you!!! Great!!!" A shout full of surprise interrupted his words, and the storm of the subspace accumulated outside the curtain, roaring and unable to be released.

Rushing in from the tunnel entrance ahead along with the Wild Wolves who came to support him was none other than Hong Suo, the master of the Ironblood Laboratory, the former war blacksmith, and the chief potion master of the Iron Lords (they). He was staring at the strange Iron Hand Dreadnought with sparkling eyes, almost with tears in his eyes. "F... Captain Ishtar Thad!"

Robert I want to ask a question Guilliman paused, turned his head and looked at the Dreadnought and his mechanical bird, "Captain Ishtar Sad? Hmm?"

The black-armored giant's body language also showed a clear tendency towards curiosity.

A relieved voice came from the Contemptor's loudspeaker, avoiding this small question, "Hong Suo? Is it you? Is it really you?"

"It's me! Ah! It's me! My lord!" The expression on the Master of Potion's face had never been so sincere. "Lord of Black and White! I finally see you! Do you know how I've been spending these days!!!"

"I believe you and I are both sad. But at this moment, there are some things that need to be confirmed first." Fearless's tone immediately became calm after seeing the face of one of the iconic members of the Destiny Steel. "Master of Alchemy, please tell me, can he be trusted?" Ishtar raised his power finger and pointed in the direction of Guilliman.

"Yes, of course," Hong Suo immediately gave a satisfactory answer, "I personally performed his summoning... treatment, and everything was monitored from beginning to end. You can trust him completely--" Suddenly, the master of alchemy saw the Ultramarines under their feet and the legion emblems on their shoulders, and at the same time thought of an old anecdote that had been circulating in the Eye of Terror for a long time. His face changed immediately, "But I think you still need to communicate well again! Don't fight to cause misunderstandings!"

"But this isn't the place to sit down and talk." The black-armored giant said, and the golden Garuda quietly landed on Fearless's shoulder, pretending to be a mechanical creation.

The man named Pallas chopped off the head of a bloodhound that rushed towards them without knowing whether to live or die, then raised his saber and pointed at the three people who were obviously at a disadvantage in the battle with the descendants of Rus who rushed towards Abaddon one after another after arriving. There were also more and more demons here, too many, because the subspace particles in the air here were so dense that the demons could condense into entities. The influence of the four dark gods on reality reached a certain peak here.

Each of them noticed the rapid changes under the blue-grey armor, the hair, fangs, skull deformation and joint recurvation. Owen Gao Gang seemed not to see it, roaring and waving his power axe and rushing forward. The two moon wolves tried their best to entangle the Draconic and Horus Claws. Even so, they also caused a lot of casualties to the wild wolves. Weapons broke, armor shattered, fangs, fur and claws fragments flew with blood——

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"I will not lose!" the Warmaster roared. Draconian swept across, cutting off anything in the path ahead, while more and more demonic entities surrounded him, blocking attacks from all directions. "I will win! The ghosts of yesterday cannot stop my conquest! I will conquer everything! Blood, pain, faith and soul! Yourselves, and the world you want to protect! Will all be conquered by us in the end!"

As the Great Plunderer roared, two sharp and short shattering sounds were heard: Loken and Torgaddon's weapons were cut off by the extremely sharp magic swords. More and more demons, accompanied by the Black Legion's Terminators, launched a counterattack towards the defenders and reinforcements like a tide. The situation of everyone in the cave once again seemed precarious.

"Let them retreat." Wuwei said, "They will only die. Only we can stop this anointed one now."

"This is a bit difficult," the black-armored giant said. Guilliman noticed again that although the two of them had similar speaking habits, they had completely different voices and experiences. "The Ultramarines should be able to retreat as ordered, but these Space Wolves and this group of Salamanders-" He pointed to several other locations in the cave, "the Capek Eagle snipers led by this team of Inquisitors, this team of Vostroyans and Tanithians, although I don't know what's going on, they are obviously not part of the command sequence here."

He paused, looking at Guilliman and Honsou. "Not really, is it?"

"I don't even know where they came from. There was no sign of them before this."

"But they are all on our side, and that is enough." Guilliman shook the huge axe blade casually, like a gladiator, and there were gasps among the Ultramarines from Amatra.

"Well said." The black-armored giant chuckled, put away his saber, and drew out his gear-powered axe. "Let's go together?"

"You go first." The Thirteenth Primarch's eyes flashed with a complicated look, "I don't want you to stand behind me, but I must admit that you are the most suitable at this moment."

Pallas clicked his tongue, "I'm not him."

"I have an estimate."

"But you certainly haven't guessed all of it. However, this is enough for now. Will you help me with the raid?"

Guilliman took the pistol handed to him. This was a real ancient weapon. "Aren't you afraid that I will shoot you first with the first shot and him with the second shot?"

"So, I am not him." The tail tone of this sentence was still echoing in front of them, and the black-armored warrior had already rushed to the front of the big plunderer.

(End of this chapter)