Dedicate loyalty to the good empire

Chapter 322 Prospero's Revenge

That hatred dates back to the years of the Great Crusade, before the fall of the Primarch Magnus.

Once upon a time, the Primarch forged a perfect city, where countless knowledge and wisdom circulated in the towering pyramid library.

The huge pyramid is the best stargazing spot in the entire universe and also the largest library. Countless taboos and countless hopes are gathered on the planet called Prospero in the hands of the Space Marines of the Thousand Sons Legion.

It is the homeworld of the Primarch Magnus and the home world of the Thousand Sons Legion. It is a paradise for scholars and the future of mankind.

Nothing should be like this, nothing should be like this.

Magnus was the Emperor's favorite disciple, and he personally taught his child how to master his terrifying psychic powers, but he was unaware of Magnus's insensitivity to human nature.

He failed to save his elder brother Horus from corruption, and instead unintentionally thwarted the Emperor's great plan.

A burst of psychic energy, a spell, a spell taught by the Lord of Change that consumed the lives of tens of thousands of people, turned Magnus's warning of rebellion into the culprit for the destruction of the Webway.

The Emperor thus sat on the Golden Throne, and Magnus became a sinner, to be torn apart by the wolves.

When Lemanus broke his brother's spine, when Prospero was reduced to rubble, the Thousand Sons still hope for that day to come again.

But this time the place that will become a scorched earth is not their hometown, but Fenris, the snow-white world!

Now in the void, the Red Mane is rapidly approaching Fenris.

It was a warship belonging to Chaos, or more precisely, the flagship of the Thousand Sons.

When Magnus was defeated, the Thousand Sons' forces did not completely disappear. On the contrary, from the beginning of the Heresy to the present day, the one who truly ruled the Thousand Sons was the Professor of Spells, the Master of Magic, Ahriman the Hundred-Faced.

He used to be the right-hand man of Magnus the Red, but now he is able to stand on his own. His attainments in magic have even far surpassed those of his unambitious Primarch!

Now a mysterious magic shrouds the vessel, rendering it immune to Imperial detection.

Her powerful hull smashed into the Empire's surveillance satellite without hesitation, leaving a pile of wreckage in its place.

Those metals had served the Imperium for a full 635 standard Terran years, and the souls of the wetware within them were now finally laid to rest.

After a few flashes of electric sparks, the loyal man's thoughts completely returned to the Golden Throne.

Some people think this is a punishment, but it is not.

Only the most loyal Imperial civil servants can enjoy such honor after death and continue to serve the great Emperor.

Those satellites formed the borders of each empire, working diligently at Mandeville Point, telling passing ships the exact year and month, and reporting the current situation to the empire.

But Ahriman had no interest in this. He didn't even realize that something had hit his ship. He just looked at his men indifferently.

Many of the most elite wizards gather here, foretelling the destruction of Fenris and worshipping the most powerful Chaos Lords under Tzeentch.

He had defeated Typhon's fleet and now wanted to settle his past.

At this moment, he slightly opened his eyes, and the red mask and complex runes flashed. Now Aris's body is almost composed of psychic energy. He does not need sleep. It is just a habit.

His wise voice said. "Taylor cannot be killed, and the Skadi must be let go."

"Revenge is a little difficult, but I don't think we will fail."

"Fenris was left vulnerable after the Greenskin invasion, and their fate was sealed."

"Want to escape the werewolf curse? Wishful thinking!"

"This is a gift bestowed upon them by our master. This is their destined fate. Let us destroy the Wolf Fang Castle and destroy all those hopes..."

At this, Ahriman chuckled softly.

"Prospero's hatred will surely be avenged now."

"I want Fenris to burn like my home, and I will make them pay for their blind faith in the Emperor." "If the sons of Russ will kiss my heels, I will consider letting them live!"

"Ha ha……"

"Now, show my foolish father what true psychic power is!"

As his words fell, dozens of huge magic circles appeared in the atmosphere of Fenris, the sky turned a grayish brown, and countless demons began to appear in it.

The entire world began to assimilate with the Chaos Demon Realm.

In the core area where the spell fell, the white snow of Fenris turned into twisted things, each of which squirmed as if alive. If you look closely, it seems as if there are ten thousand tiny eyeballs.

The old pine trees began to twist, and strange phantoms shuttled through them. The huge wolf suddenly went crazy and started biting its own compatriots.

The roar of the beast resounded throughout the planet. Taylor, who had just finished proofreading the ancient wolf's oral poetry, couldn't help but twitch his right eyelid.

He muttered. "Left eyelid or...right eye? Damn, how do you say that?"

"Probably not a good thing."

He looked at the heavy brown paper and poetry records in his hands, and he remembered that he had been reading those things late into the night as if they were novels, while adding in the history he knew.

Of course, he is not as cultured as Lao Lang, for example, in this paragraph.

Winter is approaching, everything is withering, the wolves are returning home, Russ is delighted, Alheim is owned by the Primarch, and thousands of tribes bow down to him...

The hall is lit with candles, and brave warriors gather here, singing and dancing, welcoming the cold winter with joy, until the All-Father arrives to meet his Son!

Then Taylor added in vernacular.

The Emperor asked Lemanus to acknowledge him as his father, but Lemanus was unwilling.

Then Lemanus and the Emperor had an eating and drinking contest. In the first round, they had barbecue. The Emperor ate two slices and Rus ate one. Rus won.

In the second round, the emperor tasted half a cup of mead and thought it tasted bad. Rus had already finished three barrels, so Rus won.

In the third round, the Emperor and Russ were both naked and fighting so fiercely that the ground shook and they were inseparable. In desperation, the Emperor used the Emperor's Fist to give his own son a big punch.

Ruth was unconscious for three days and became aware of the situation when he woke up.

The only person who can knock me unconscious, besides my father, must be my brother!

That's how the matter ended.

Note: I guess the Emperor prefers wine.

Well, at first Taylor thought that his writing style might cause the wolves to be angry.

But in reality, they laughed and praised Taylor as much better than the best bard they had ever seen.

There are no clichés, no boredom, only an indescribable green-skinned joy.

Taylor was left feeling a bit embarrassed. He scratched his head and wondered if he should enroll in a high-level Gothic language class or something.

Just as he stretched and prepared to rest, he heard the devil's scream.

He said calmly, "The voice is so bad, it must be Tzeentch's."

"It's time to go on a mission..."

"The question is, how do I meet the boss on the other side?"