With Tzanazte's death, this earth-shattering battle was finally coming to an end.
A thick scent of blood permeated the battlefield, and scattered pieces of shattered armor and weapons bore witness to the life-and-death struggle between the Daemon Princes.
Alex, who was in the middle of chanting a spell, suddenly felt a jolt in his heart; he could clearly sense the violent churning of the Warp, and an unimaginably vast will was observing this place.
The gaze contained pure brutality and a desire for slaughter, making him tremble all over.
Undoubtedly, because a victor had emerged between the two Daemon Princes, the millennium of punishment had come to an end, and the Blood God Khorne had personally come to deal with the victor.
In fact, from the moment the two Daemon Princes revealed their true forms and began to fight, the Blood God's gaze had already fallen upon this battlefield.
For Khorne, who commanded war and slaughter, nothing could please him more than this brutal carnage.
The war currently raging on this planet was unprecedented in scale, with countless lives perishing in blood and fire, coupled with someone deliberately offering sacrifices, naturally attracting the special attention of this Chaos God.
However, the Blood God did not descend directly, nor did he manifest any earth-shattering miracles.
He merely bestowed Muswag, the victor, with his deserved reward—Muswag's power suddenly surged, quickly returning to his peak strength as a Daemon Prince, and even surpassing his former power.
At the same time, accompanied by a bloody lightning bolt striking Muswag, a set of blood-red brass armor appeared out of thin air, perfectly encasing his scarred body, and the battle-axe in his hand also glowed with a crimson light, becoming even sharper and more deadly.
This was enough for Muswag.
The Blood God's forgiveness filled him with more ecstasy than any power—it meant he was no longer the exiled traitor, no longer the wanderer hiding in the shadows.
He had regained Khorne's favor and could return to the Blood Throne with his head held high, continuing to fight for the Blood God as a noble Daemon Prince, earning glory in endless slaughter.
No longer did he have to cautiously suppress his bloodthirsty desires for the past thousand years, wandering barren planets, hiding from mortal eyes like a stray dog.
He had been forced to restrain every urge to swing his axe, fearing that he might accidentally kill a soul that shouldn't die, leading him to completely lose the chance to return to the Blood God's embrace.
And now, the shackles that bound him were finally severed.
Now, he could finally unleash the long-suppressed desire for slaughter within him!
Blood, screams, skulls—these were the meaning of his existence!
Thinking of this, Muswag roared up at the sky in excitement, his deafening roar echoing across the battlefield, making even the air tremble with his ecstasy.
Immediately, his crimson eyes, burning with bloodlust, locked onto the Imperial Army's position, especially the Living Saint radiating golden light.
His battle-axe hummed excitedly in his hand, a surging impulse to fight welling up in his chest.
If he could slay the Emperor's Living Saint and offer that head, shining with holy light, to Khorne, he would surely receive even more blessings!
The Blood God would grant him greater power, and might even reserve a higher place for him before the Brass Throne!
As for those ordinary human soldiers? They would serve as his first bloody celebration upon his return to the Blood God's command!
Without further ado, Muswag unhesitatingly swung his battle-axe, slashing fiercely through the void.
The sharp axe blade tore through reality, opening a blood-red Warp rift, from which boiling killing intent surged out.
The next second, countless bloodthirsty Khorne daemons poured out like a tide—Bloodletterss roared and wielded their blades, Skull Cannons let out insane laughter, and Flesh Hounds drooled as they charged out.
They swarmed behind Muswag, forming a terrifying army of slaughter.
This army, driven by pure desire for slaughter, was eager to please their god with the blood of Imperial soldiers.
At the same time, the remaining Khorne cultists and daemons on the battlefield also responded to his call.
The bodies shattered by artillery fire eerily writhed and reassembled, beheaded berserkers picked up weapons with their headless torsos, and fallen daemons rose again, infused with Warp energy.
They crawled out of the mountains of corpses and seas of blood, letting out fanatical war cries, following this re-glorified Daemon Prince, and charged towards the Imperial Army's positions!
The entire battlefield "came alive" under the impetus of this evil force, as if even death itself was serving Khorne.
Alex was not surprised by Muswag's betrayal.
A mocking sneer even appeared on his lips—Chaos daemons had always been like this; he had anticipated this when he sought Muswag's cooperation.
These monsters, dominated by the desire for slaughter, knew nothing of the spirit of a contract; betrayal was as natural to them as breathing.
He merely withdrew his consciousness slightly, issuing a brief command to the Living Saint through their psychic link: "Intercept the Daemon Prince."
Then, he immediately focused all his attention on the spell in his hand.
This grand ritual, guided jointly by the three Supreme Wizards, had already accumulated enough energy and could be activated at any moment.
Even better, with the Blood God's gaze just now, Alex had precisely located the coordinates of Khorne's domain in the Warp.
Now, all that remained was to finally activate the ritual and then throw these two damned planets together into Khorne's domain.
Thinking of this, a ruthless glint flashed in Alex's eyes.
"Initiate the ritual!" he roared towards Ahriman, his voice, amplified by psychic power, piercing through the clamor of the battlefield, as the three Supreme Wizards simultaneously raised their staffs.
As the ritual began, a continuous tremor emanated from the ground beneath their feet.
At first, it was just a slight tremble, which quickly escalated into violent shaking, with the metal ground rippling like waves.
The staff in Alex's hand burst forth with dazzling light, the light twisting like a living thing, condensing into a searing white orb at the tip of the staff.
Ahriman and the other Supreme Wizard stood in a triangular formation, and the Warp runes beneath their feet lit up one after another, first dark red, then turning to eerie blue, and finally becoming dazzling gold.
These runes connected to each other, forming a massive magic circle several kilometers in diameter that enveloped the entire battlefield.
Vast energy surged out from the center of the magic circle like a swimming dragon; these translucent energy torrents snaked across the surface, spreading towards the entire planet.
Wherever they passed, metal plating was melted and reformed, and crude Ork creations disintegrated under the pure energy wash.
As the incantation reached its climax, the entire Battle Moon began to tremble violently.
The Orks watched in panic as the weapons crafted by their Meks exploded one after another, those crude mechanical constructs twisting and deforming as if crushed by an invisible giant hand.
The metal bodies of the Necron Warriors suddenly twisted and deformed, the ancient metal groaning under the strain, those living metal constructs that had been immortal for millions of years now softened like wax figures.
The space at the collision point of the two planets developed spiderweb-like cracks like glass, through which an eerie purple light permeated, as if another universe was peering through the cracks. The spatial structure let out a teeth-grinding groan, and then—
"CRACK!"
With a soul-shattering snap, reality was forcibly torn apart.
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