I'm in Warhammer, please don't praise Doraemon

Chapter 569 Ding ding ding!! Earth Destruction Bomb!!
+Repent!+
Let's not continue to betray the blood of Saint Gillespie!
The Red Angel's words are all lies!
How could you possibly betray the name of the Ninth Blood Angels Legion?
Kurdus Mor awoke from his blood-soaked bed. The captain of the Crimson Angels Chapter clutched his head, trying to dispel the fragmented sounds around him.

Recently, the warriors of their Crimson Angels battle group have been frequently hearing this sound.

The voice claimed to be Melos, the apothecary of the Holy Blood Angels Legion from ten thousand years ago, and declared that the Saint Gilles, whom the Crimson Angels now worship, was actually a demon called the Red Angel, and that everything the Crimson Angels did was a betrayal of the blood of Saint Gilles.

But Saint Gilles tells the Scarlet Angels: This must be a treacherous plot by Tzeentch!
Yes, those scarlet angels are the purest offspring of Saint Gilles.
They were born in the ninth chapter of the Ninth Legion, and Corinnar was the ninth planet in their system.
The Ninth Legion, the Ninth Chapter, the Ninth Son, the Ninth Planet, the Ninth Blood—is there any child of Saint Gilles purer than the Crimson Angel?
The fact that Saint Gilles chose to be resurrected in Corinth, rather than in Baal, is proof of their purity.

They are the true descendants of Saint Gilles, walking the path of Saint Gilles and carrying on the holy blood.
Moore struggled to get up from the blood-stained bed, his foot crushing the skull of the mortal who had died while he was drawing blood the night before. Sticky blood, brain matter, and bone fragments clumped together under his foot.
Mohr frowned slightly. Where were his servants? They hadn't even come to collect the remains of these blood servants.
Then, Mor suddenly remembered that last night, while he was drawing blood, he had accidentally twisted off his servant's head and was now gnawing on the blood-spurting wound to draw his blood.

Mohr shook his head; the rate at which the chapter's servants were being lost had been accelerating recently.
A secondary reason is that, in their heightened state, the warriors of the battle group might accidentally eat their servants as well.
The main reason is that the replenishment rate of servants is getting slower and slower, and many mortals are unwilling to accept the warband's call-up, or even go into hiding.
What an ungrateful bunch of mortals! Shouldn't serving angels be their glory?
Have they forgotten who protected them? Who shielded them from chaos and aliens?

What an ungrateful and shameless bunch of bastards! All they have to do is offer their blood, while the Crimson Angels have to consider many other things.

Moore walked to a corner of the room and stood in front of an ornately decorated mirror.

He reached out and wiped the bloodstains from the mirror, then looked at his reflection.

It was a gloomy, distorted face with no lips, fangs protruding from exposed, dry gums, no eyelids, bloodshot eyes bulging from their sockets, high cheekbones, a long and narrow face, grayish-black skin, and sharp ears pointing into the air, resembling an ugly humanoid bat.

Moore was startled by what he saw in the mirror and almost fell to the ground.

Fortunately, in the blink of an eye, the image in the mirror returned to normal, and his face reverted to that beautiful, fair face hidden beneath golden hair, exactly like Saint Gilles' beautiful face.

This is yet another testament to their purity.

Moore admired his own face with considerable pride.
But suddenly, he began to hallucinate again, as if he saw the figure of his former battle group commander, Chaud.

He saw Chaud gripping his hand tightly as he died, his eyes wide with terror as he spoke to Moor:

"scam."

"It's all a scam."

"We have fallen."

"The repentance ceremony is a hoax."

"To make amends for my mistake."

Moore quickly shook his head; this must be another illusion concocted by Tzeentch.

He clearly remembered what Chaud said to him before he died, entrusting the Crimson Angels to his care.
He clearly stated:

"pure."

"Everything is for the sake of purity." "We are the purest."

“The ritual of repentance is the foundation of purity.”

"Continuing the ritual of repentance."

Moll followed the teachings of his predecessor,
Under his leadership, the frequency of the repentance ceremony was changed from once every fifty years to once every twenty years, then to once every ten years, and now it is once every nine days.

This is Mohr's achievement, Mohr's glory.

Mohr stepped out of his room and saw a warband servant standing trembling before him.
"Sir, the company commanders of the battle group request your presence at a meeting—Aa ...

Moore ripped the servant's head off; blood spurted from his severed neck. Moore bit down on it, sucking the blood.

In almost an instant, the servant's blood was drained by Mor, leaving only a withered body lying on the ground.

Do not suppress your scarlet thirst, do not suppress your nature.
This is the teaching of Saint Gilles.

This is betrayal.
Moll drew clean blood, ignoring the whispers in his ear, and walked toward the Crimson Angel's meeting hall.

He quickly learned the situation during a meeting with the company commanders.
The Scarlet Angels now rule over a far greater area than before, an expansion guided by Saint Gilles. Otherwise, how could the mortals of Corinnar support the Scarlet Angels and the warbands summoned by Saint Gilles?
And today, a battle has broken out on the edge of the Crimson Angel's domain.
A fleet claiming to be the Blood Angels from Baal attacked a planet on their periphery.

But Moore was not worried about their defenses.

Because Saint Gilles had foreseen this and performed his miracles, summoning allies.
Warmaster Abaddon and Primarch Peturabo's fleet will defend the territory of the Crimson Angels.
Abaddon and Perturabo are despicable traitors!
+Have you forgotten, Moore?+
Moore irritably banished the damned whispers in his ears.
Oh dear, how could the Lord of Change be so wicked!

That was the real fleet of Saint Gilles!
Repent! Atone! Otherwise, only death and humiliation await you!
The voice that claimed to be Melos the pharmacist murmured persistently.

It's a complete lie!

They have the protection of Saint Gilles! They have Abaddon, Peturabo, and Vashtor!

They couldn't even set foot on Corinnar, so how could they bring them death and humiliation?

Both Moore and the company commanders of the Crimson Angels heard the murmur.
They burst into mocking laughter almost simultaneously, ridiculing the voice for not even knowing how to lie.

Click——————

Suddenly, the sound of a door opening shattered their playful laughter, like a sharp knife piercing the conference room.

A reddish-pink wooden door suddenly appeared in the center of the conference room.
The wooden door clicked open, and a round hand reached out from it.
The somewhat comical round hand held a dark green, streamlined bomb that was about half a person's height.
"Bang bang bang!!! Earth Destruction Bomb!!"

(End of this chapter)