Warhammer: Don't Call Me the God of All Machines

Chapter 561 The Chaotic Council of Four Kings
The total amount of happiness in the world remains the same, while one group of people are cheering and celebrating, another group is struggling to climb out of the abyss of despair.

The Spirit of Vengeance sailed through the vast dark void, like a lone boat breaking through the black ice.

Behind it followed many broken Chaos warships, which could only survive in this life-destroying field by relying on the protection of the Spirit of Vengeance.

The great Horus, chosen by the four gods, completed the sacrifice ceremony on Betagarmon III. His domain will expand and spread until it reaches the destined place of confrontation.

But before that, all the troops and warships of the rebel camp must assemble in Ullanor, the capital of the former Greenskin Orc Empire, in accordance with the last instructions of the Warmaster before he fell into a coma.

The Battle of Betagarmon not only caused heavy damage to the Empire, but also shattered Horus' camp.

The Iron Blood and Iron Warriors escaped, the Thousand Sons' Radiance was captured, and Ahriman was forced to warp into the Empyrean in physical form with his battle-brothers.

Under this intense stimulation, many of the Thousand Sons, whose genes and flesh were already extremely unstable, underwent severe mutations in their flesh and blood, and almost turned into terrifying Chaos Eggs.

Rebels from all over the galaxy are on their way. They will take a final rest and regroup in Ullanor, and then, under the order of the Warmaster, will head to the solar system where the Empire's heavy troops are now gathered for the final showdown.

However, now, there was no sense of tension or crisis in the Spirit of Vengeance because of the impending decisive battle. Everyone felt an instinctive panic and uneasiness.

The few remaining Dark Mechanicus priests walked quickly on the deck of the Spirit of Vengeance, while in the shadows behind them, countless Warp shadows were rushing by.

They grinned evilly, and randomly kidnapped some delicious human souls according to their own preferences, stuffing them into their stomachs to savor and chew them carefully.

Horrible, chilling chewing and grinding sounds were heard from the darkness of the Spirit of Vengeance, turning this once glorious ship into a dark and terrifying devil's den.

However, no one cared about these small problems anymore. All the Sons of Horus gathered together. The anger and murderous intent emanating from these superhuman warriors even temporarily suppressed the demon souls attached to the power armor. The huge sadness gathered together and formed an extremely low pressure field.

All the Sons of Horus already knew that their invincible and all-conquering Gene-Father was seriously injured and unconscious at the sacrificial site of Betagarmon.

That was the old wound left by the Spear of Dionysus when the Wolf King led all his troops to join the Spirit of Vengeance.

Even though the Legion's Apothecaries and the Dark Mechanicus' Magi had checked that the Warmaster had easily healed that old wound, it still occurred without warning.

Horus was unconscious, which was terrible news for everyone on the Vengeful Spirit. Even great and outstanding beings like Ezekiel Abaddon and Horus Eichmand the Younger felt dazed and terrified.

Horus was not only their genetic father, but also their spiritual pillar. It was the great shepherd wolf-god who led them on the road of betrayal to overthrow the Emperor. Now that this guide is unconscious, the Sons of Horus have instantly lost their backbone.

The proud Sons of Horus suddenly discovered that they were not as strong and fearless as they had imagined.

Apart from Horus, who else in the Legion can take on the responsibility and become the Optimus Prime?
Should we count on that pointy-headed captain? But Abaddon can do nothing but fight.

At best, he was a good general, but he was definitely not a commander who could command the support of the people.

On the battlefield of Betagarmon, as soon as Horus bled and fell unconscious, Eichmand ordered the Gene-Father to be brought back to the throne room of the Vengeful Spirit.

This is not just because of the fear that my father would be pursued and besieged by the loyalists. Many times the enemy is not limited to the opposing camp.

Eichmand knew very well that there was a group of vicious jackals roaming around his father. When Horus was awake, these jackals were the most loyal hunting dogs. But at this moment, when they sensed their weakness, the jackals would turn into vicious dogs that killed their masters.

He must be extremely vigilant against these guys and must not let the news of Horus's coma spread.

Eichmand ordered the execution of all other rebels who witnessed Horus' fall on the battlefield. He knew that this would not be hidden from the equally cunning Primarchs, but at least it showed their determination and attitude.

He was warning them that Horus was only unconscious, not dead.

Otherwise, let alone whether the rebels can reach Terra again and overthrow the false emperor, they will now fall into a desperate situation of internal division and fratricide.

The Warmaster must be revived, at least before reaching Ullanor. Horus was carried to the Dark Throne by his descendants. The Primarch's blood was gushing out crazily from the old wound in his abdomen. Even if the Legion's apothecaries used all their means, they could not stop the desperate bleeding.

"Trash, you trash!"

"What's the point of raising you? You can't do anything."

Eichmand's roar echoed in the dark throne room. From time to time, ghosts from the warp would wander and howl in the room, making creepy sounds that made people feel cold behind their backs.

In the throne room, Falkus Cable, leader of the Gastlin Terminators, Malohurst the Twister, the Warmaster's squire, and Ezekyle Abaddon, the First Captain, all surrounded their father with gloomy faces.

"Think of a solution, Ezekiel. Ullanor is just ahead of our fleet. Now those guys with ulterior motives can temporarily suppress their ambitions, but if the Warmaster cannot hold the assembly ceremony in Ullanor, then no one can control them anymore."

Abaddon's towering braids almost burst at Eichmand's chatter.

The company commander was very angry, and his extreme anger made him angry for a moment.

His power armor was covered in traces of blood. This set of equipment, blessed by the Lord of the Furnace, greedily devoured human blood.

The cracks and burn marks are healing and returning to perfect condition.

"What can I do? I don't know chaos magic, and the efforts of the pharmacists are in vain."

Abaddon's anger affected a servo-bot that was on standby nearby, and this diligent man-made machine was instantly turned into a mixture of meat paste and metal debris.

"With so many of you, don't you have any reliable ideas? How can you be worthy of the Warmaster's trust? Are we just going to watch him bleed to death?"

"Is it because Sejanus is dead and Loken has defected, that we don't have anyone left who can make decisions?"

When it comes to fighting on the battlefield, the company commander is unmatched even in the entire 16th Legion, but it is really difficult for him to make decisions.

His pointed head was filled with solid muscles, and as for brains, God knew what percentage was left.

Perhaps even the brain has already been trained into a muscle, which is not impossible.

In the past, it was always Sejanus who made the decisions, and no one would deny Sejanus's perfection.

He is a perfect Luna Wolf, strong, upright, self-disciplined, respectful and compassionate to others, and has a vision beyond everyone else.

Some even believe that Cyjanus is to Horus what Sanguinius is to the Emperor, the perfect son.

But Cyjanus died, and his successor, Gaviel Loken, firmly chose to stand on the side of the Emperor. Now, among so many people in this throne hall, there is no longer a reliable decision-maker.

Abaddon, brave but not wise; Falkus Cabot, a guard dog; Eichmand, diligent but unremarkable, the only thing that made him stand out was that he looked exactly like Horus.

Only the warmaster's squire, Malohurst, was hiding behind everyone. He was still leaning on the legion flag, and limping along with his brothers in the legion with his twisted limbs.

He was wearing a special breathing mask and breathing heavily, making a hoarse whirring sound, staring at the unconscious Wolf Shepherd God with a look of infinite horror.

His heart was trembling, and silent pain gnawed at his heart.

"I must, I must do something. I must save my master... no matter what the cost."

(End of this chapter)