The Emperor’s Angel of Death

"Save the Prince!"

The moment Sotha-Yang was restrained by Fulgrim, Duran knew something was wrong and immediately commanded all the Phoenix Guard to charge towards the towering Daemon Prince. However, amidst the sweet and affectionate singing, beast hooves pounded the wraithbone deck, and eager claws tapped. Slaanesh's Daemonettes, riding serpentine beasts with mesmerizing long beaks, howled as they charged out. Accompanied by the screeching of unseen wheels and the hissing of whips, profane chariots rumbled forth, appearing as living constructs of bone and sinew. Their wheels were faces of agony, and atop them stood exalted daemons in golden armor, screaming incessantly, the chariots adorned with dripping blades, rumbling directly towards the Phoenix Guard.

Battle ignited instantly. Duran charged forward alone, cleaving a chariot in two with a single strike of his glaive. But then, a champion with skin pierced by hooks and barbs, wearing golden breastplate and wielding a golden blade and mirrored shield, appeared before him with a chilling presence. Its face was hidden behind a sneering mask, making its true nature unknowable.

It offered no words, no gestures, only a brief salute with its blade before appearing like lightning on Duran's right side. The commander of the guard swung his glaive to parry, only to find his opponent becoming vaporous and reappearing on his left, forcing him to raise the butt of his weapon to deflect the incoming blade.

However, Duran's mind was not on this fight; he only wanted to reach Sotha-Yang. Yet, his opponent remained stubbornly engaged, and for a moment, he found himself unable to defeat this silent foe.

But Duran's worries were somewhat unnecessary, as Sotha-Yang's daze lasted only two seconds.

"You desire my power? I fear you cannot withstand it!"

Sotha-Yang snorted coldly, unleashing a shockwave of air as surging black flames instantly engulfed them both.

"Ah—"

Salania screamed, collapsing to the ground with Carnelian and the other Eldar, buffeted by the searing gale. As she struggled to see what was happening, her vision blurred with intense energy, as if a massive solar storm had just passed through. She could sense it was not psychic energy but genuine cosmic power. As a pirate, she was all too familiar with such physical phenomena. This kind of destructive energy burst was often enough to destroy a fleet.

But it did not destroy the Dragon's Nest; instead, it controlled the scale, as if rapidly compressed after a brief release.

Looking around, she could no longer see the two warriors, only a sea of fire.

"What exactly happened..."

Carnelian propped herself up, anxiously watching the rising flames, whispering:

"His Highness will be alright."

Neither of them had witnessed Sotha-Yang transforming into his energy form. He had now transformed from the Incarnation of Khaine into a silver star god wearing a shattered crown.

With a roar, Sotha-Yang thrust out his arms, instantly shattering the shackles and piercing Fulgrim's daemonic body with his hands.

"Ugh!"

Fulgrim screamed, his six serpentine heads once again contorting into grotesque visages, his silver hair flying like a waterfall, his body twisting in agony, his back arching, his snake tails flailing wildly.

The black flames surged even higher, bursting through the dome and into the void, causing all the daemons to feel a soul-deep pain. It was a pain Fulgrim hadn't experienced since becoming a Daemon Prince, stronger than when he killed his own brother, far stronger. It was a pain beyond the material, tearing at his very soul.

It was this agony that unleashed immense power, his four arms transforming into longswords, slashing at Sotha-Yang's neck in a crisscross pattern.

"Die!!! Die!!!!"

"Hmph!"

Faced with the deadly blades, Sotha-Yang merely responded with a contemptuous snort, drawing back and then gripping the four daemon blades with both hands, fingers clamping down.

In an instant, the sound of shattering reverberated through both worlds. Sotha-Yang forcibly crushed the four daemonic weapons, then clenched his fists, slamming them into Fulgrim's chest.

"Ah!!!!"

The Daemon Primarch screamed violently, a fissure opening in his perfect jawline as bright light crawled across his scaled skin. Immense energy radiated outward from his chest, enveloping his body, while Sotha-Yang's hand sank deep into his sculpted pectoral muscles, siphoning off the leaking soul energy, even the dark gods' warp energy. This made his silver form even fuller, and a rich orange energy began to encircle him, while at the edge of his consciousness, a savage thought was quietly gnawing at the cage of his personality.

But at that moment, a faint warning sounded in Sotha-Yang's ears, and he remembered the painting—

The God Who Devours His Children.

Could devouring Fulgrim trigger some unforeseen consequence?

A sense of caution made Sotha-Yang suddenly withdraw his hand, whereupon Fulgrim let out a long, piercing scream, as his convulsing body finally stilled, the scream gradually fading into a terrifying silence.

Sotha-Yang looked at Fulgrim, who was gradually collapsing to the ground, his killing intent growing ever more intense, then slowly raised his fist.

"This punch is for Sergeant Sol!"

Enveloping the energy of a stellar flare, Sotha-Yang attempted to slam his fist down on Fulgrim's head, but struck only a cloud of smoke.

"Go!"

Apparently, Fulgrim's collapse and show of weakness was a ruse. He had secretly maintained his remaining power, or rather, had gained the power of some other being, transforming into a whirlwind with extreme speed, picking up Zarakynel and heading straight for the rapidly shrinking warp rift.

"Trying to escape!"

Sotha-Yang roared, transforming back into the Incarnation of Khaine, blowing away the black flame storm, and the howling doom descended from the sky like a spear, pinning Zarakynel in place with a scream.

Seeing this, Fulgrim did not hesitate, bringing his blade down and cleaving the unfortunate Keeper of Secrets in two, taking the upper half with him into the rift, leaving the lower half behind.

"Bastard!!!!"

Sotha-Yang roared in fury, as if it was the roar of Khaine himself, filled with endless anger and killing intent, then stabbed his sword into the warp rift.

With a flash of light, the warp rift vanished in an earth-shattering roar.

The surging tide of violence once again sealed within the shattered webway, the light from the archway began to fade, until it dimmed, the bands of light coiling in the air slowed and dissipated under the touch of the receding tide, the ethereal tendrils rippling with color changes as they retreated, smoothly transitioning from purple to blue, and finally disappearing without a trace.

The body of the pinned Keeper of Secrets was also sucked into the Phoenix Chalice, leaving only a scar on the wraithbone steps, illuminated by the dancing flames.

Sotha-Yang, wearing the Face of Khaine, breathed evenly. Although his heart throbbed with violence, he knew it had to end.

He was now more concerned with the inexplicable warning and unease he felt when he restrained Fulgrim. Was it Xerxes? Did he not want Sotha-Yang to do this?

And for some reason, after being bitten by the snake that Fulgrim had transformed into, he felt that something was not right.

Not physically, but he felt like he had overlooked something, but couldn't put his finger on it.

Although he felt a little troubled, this was not the place to think.

Sotha-Yang in front of the huge arch turned around and scanned the ravaged battlefield. Everywhere he looked there were Eldar corpses, pirates, Kabalite warriors... even many Dark Eldar were left on the battlefield. They were all quietly looking at Sotha-Yang, or rather, everyone was looking at him.

After a moment, Sotha-Yang uttered a low sentence.

"Those who surrender will be spared."