The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Huron entered the main fortress of the Doombringer, walking through stone corridors lined with strange statues made of various materials—including bones, human skin, metal, crystal, and flesh. In the distance, a corridor made entirely of a glassy substance stretched ahead.

This corridor projected insane, countless reflections, but Huron didn't look at those images, nor did he pay attention to the bestial god-idols filling the alcoves in the corridor walls.

Perhaps this corridor wasn't part of the original fortress construction, but like most creations of Chaos, even a fortress might eventually develop a kind of self-awareness.

But Huron was its master, and he wouldn't concern himself with such tricks.

Along the way, Huron encountered various people, mostly hunched servants in black robes, hurrying back and forth within the fortress. Sometimes he came across Chaos Space Marines, some alone, others in small groups.

They would respectfully bow or kneel when they saw Huron.

Soon, Huron arrived at the massive metal doors of the central hall of the fortress.

The doors were decorated with iron patterns of demon skull carvings. The warriors guarding the sides of the door immediately pounded their fists against their chests upon seeing Huron, silently paying homage to the Blackheart, while metallic drums and horns sounded like rolling thunder.

Then the doors automatically opened inward, scraping ominously against the stone slabs on the ground.

Huron crossed the threshold expressionlessly. A group of people had already gathered in the hall—the war leaders and warband chiefs of the Angstrom battle cluster. They stood under the beast-skeleton-like ceiling of the hall, surrounded by dozens of braziers illuminating their crimson armor.

They were the true core of the Red Corsairs. Some wore full suits of Terminator armor, others had their flesh fused with their armor, and still others had armor covered in human skin.

When they noticed Huron's arrival, they all respectfully lowered their heads.

Closest to the door was a Chaos Lord whose lower body had mutated into something resembling a reptile. Six guards with armor that looked like scales stood behind him. He was the first to salute Huron, emitting a shrill voice.

“Hail, Blackheart!”

Huron only glanced at them, his gaze shifting from the crowd to the end of the hall.

In front, he saw a huge throne, behind which was a shimmering black banner with silver trim, the black hand symbol of the Red Corsairs at its center.

The throne was forged from twisted silver metal, all taken from the wreckage of Adeptus Astartes and Adeptus Mechanicus war machines slain on the battlefield. Hundreds and thousands of the defeated had been mercilessly crushed to forge this throne, which gleamed in the firelight, seemingly to bear witness to some glorious victory.

But in fact, everyone present knew that they were still very, very far from victory.

At the same time, Huron noticed another person. He wore red armor trimmed with silver, a rust-red cloak draped over his shoulders. He was bareheaded, revealing a dry, gaunt face. When he saw Huron, the expression on his face quickly transformed into that of the most humble servant.

He was Mogarol Kale, the war leader in charge of the Red Corsairs' operations on Angstrom.

Many believed he would be punished by Huron, but Huron walked over and embraced him like a brother.

“Well done, my brother.”

Huron's voice was still steady, but less harsh. As he released him, Mogarol Kale's face showed shame.

“Lord, I have failed your expectations, until now…”

“It's not just your problem.”

Huron waved his hand, then stepped past Mogarol Kale, walked to the throne, and turned to sit on it.

Mogarol Kale then turned to the crowd in the hall and said:

“It is a great honor for all our soldiers to have the Blackheart here to command the battle on Angstrom! Now, let the master of the Maelstrom instruct us.”

The crowd fell silent and looked at Huron in unison. Even the foreign warbands dared not be too casual on this occasion. Even ZhuFu gave Huron this face.

Huron's gaze swept over them, then he said in a deep voice:

“For a moment, I can't find the right words to express what hopes I have for you all, such as seeing that, coming with me to Angstrom, are not only more than five thousand reinforcements, but also our close ally, ZhuFu, brother sent by Abaddon, lord of the Black Legion.”

As he spoke, he extended his hand to ZhuFu, and the giant symbolically nodded to the people around him.

“And Lord Varoson from the Screaming Vortex.”

The Chaos Lord whom Huron called Lord Varoson was covered from head to toe in bone-like heavy armor. Thick plates of warped steel had been crafted into the shapes of femurs, sternums, and ribs, meticulously polished. His helmet was shaped like a fanged demon skull, curling upward from the forehead. When the other Red Corsairs looked at him, something dark and cold ignited behind the heavy armor's visor, beginning to burn fiercely.

Varoson led a warband called the Swords of Damnation, a mixed warband with about three hundred members, mainly active in the Screaming Vortex area.

A total of three Screaming Vortex warbands had come to the Maelstrom with him this time, which was quite unusual in the eyes of some within the Red Corsairs, because the Chaos Space Marines in the Screaming Vortex did not often come out to operate. The sudden appearance of three warbands made it difficult not to be suspicious.

In fact, only Huron knew that these three warbands were controlled by a Daemon Prince, and this mysterious Daemon Prince had not been invited by Huron. It had been attracted by the intense fighting in the Maelstrom.

Therefore, it was difficult to control. Fortunately, its subordinate warbands were willing to listen to Huron's commands, so Huron didn't care too much.

“And the Necrotic Lord of the Apostles of Contagion.”

As the only Nurgle worshiper present, and also the object of deliberate avoidance by the crowd, the Necrotic Lord, the master of the Apostles of Contagion, who called himself the Hand of Nurgle, showed a kind smile on his scarred and festering face, then nodded, making a gurgling sound.

“Blackheart is too kind.”

The Apostles of Contagion were a warband purely from the Death Guard. The Necrotic Lord was originally an apothecary in the legion, and later led his team out during the civil war on Plague Star to establish the Apostles of Contagion.

At the same time, the warband was also one of the 11 Chaos warbands that participated in the Siege of Vraks. Necrotic and ZhuFu could even be considered "old comrades." This time, ZhuFu had called Necrotic Lord to come to the Maelstrom. The Apostles of Contagion had suffered considerable losses in the Siege of Vraks, and coming to the Maelstrom was a chance to recover. After all, Huron was known for being wealthy, and Necrotic Lord was naturally happy to get involved.