This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 353 The Price of Defeat Now is Death
"Here we come!"

Ramses launched the ceremony with feigned ease.

nail--

Like a pebble dropped into a still pool, it stirred up layers of golden ripples in the depths of the subspace. The light flowed like liquid gold, tearing cracks in the surrounding chaotic shadows.

The ever-changing demon lord, who was feeling quite uncomfortable, moved a little further away, genuinely puzzled as to why an existence known for its formlessness and intangibility would have such an flamboyant personal style.

Ramses glanced sideways, a glimpse of his faceplate, fine gold fragments gathering at each fingertip in his hand, revealing an unremarkable face.

!!!

The Demon Lord of Myriad Transformations immediately fled as if he had seen a ghost, his continuous teleportation flashes creating a series of chaotic purple sparks.

This action caused Ramses to frown.

He pretended to pay attention to the Demon Lord's unusual movements, and he naturally revealed a flaw in the construction of his spell, which Tzeentch, as the god of magic, could not possibly miss.

However, the Myriad Transformations Demon Lord remained unmoved, saying, "Please continue, I won't disturb you, I'm leaving," showing no sign whatsoever that the cunning and treacherous Qi had intended to snatch the number.

Her brows, adorned with golden eyes, furrowed even deeper.

Showing weakness was ineffective, provocation failed, and deliberate oversight still elicited no response...

The magic flowing between his fingers trembled again, runes intertwined, and the chains that were drawn in the warp began to stir restlessly, just like the great demons lurking in the shadows.

In fact, his spellcasting process was all an act for Tzeentch to see. Both the Mogta Stone and the core spell were initially with Romulus, and he only needed to give remote commands. He was just waiting for Tzeentch to intervene.

So how did Tzeentch end up like he died in this operation?
So the Demon Lord of a Thousand Transformations sent this guy here for a tourist trip and to check in, right?
My consciousness swept over the contingency plan again.

The Blackstone array on the Dawn was operating smoothly; the Imperial Guard and the Silent Sisters maintained surveillance and blockade of all key facilities; Draconian remained under surveillance, and Astor was ready to teleport up at any time; the Emperor's psionic telephone had also been established, and so on.
All the chips were safely placed outside the gambling table.

Ramses suppressed his doubts and focused on remotely controlling Romulus.

Everyone had prepared themselves mentally well in advance. To be honest, they didn't have much feeling for the other Primarchs. Their goodwill and badwill were more due to the other party's actions.

Peturabo's power is still quite useful; at least it can ensure the security of some technological applications.

As for the object it carries, it is naturally the Stone of Mogta. Once Ramses has completed the technical framework, Romulus can use it directly after completing the connection.

Yeah, my good bro's interface will get another update soon.

!!!

Ramses turned around abruptly, only to find that the Demon Lord of Myriad Changes had run even further away, and he could no longer sense anything.

Are you really not planning to cause trouble?

What exactly is Tzeentch plotting?
The Demon Lord of Myriad Transformations bristled with anger, and upon noticing the other party's actions, he looked aggrieved.

No, sir, I'm just a nameless demon, is it really necessary?
Dawn, Reception Hall
"First."

Romulus said.

"This is not a game."

He stared at Peturabo, whose face, pierced by hammer blows, had closed up, and whose skin, scorched by fire, had healed and was now smooth and new.

Broken bones rejoined, and armor damaged in intense battles repaired itself, regaining its luster.

The scabs on his body began to dry in the wind, then vanished like ashes without a trace.

"second."

Romulus spoke again, his eyes lowered.

“I’ve had enough of all this, all the historical problems you’ve left behind, and you yourselves.”

“Perhaps those brothers who share your bloodline will try to crush you in the war, to destroy the fortresses you built. They have always insisted on a fair war, choosing to fight with honor, but I will not.” He gazed at Perturabo’s body at this moment. This meticulously crafted form began to compress, and strange light burst forth from within. Perturabo could gradually sense that the boundary between his body and his consciousness was beginning to blur.

Peturabo stared intently.

He was angry, but he couldn't open his mouth.

He wanted to resist, but his strength was waning.

Just like ten thousand years, the 'gift' given by Forgrim bridged his essence with something greater, and then withdrew it, but this time, his life was passing away much faster.

There will be no more raids by loyalist Space Marines to save him.

Peturabo remained silent in the face of this absurd scene he had witnessed.

He realized that he had never truly understood his opponent, and that this had been wishful thinking on his part from the very beginning, while the other party had never shown any of the characteristics he had constructed in his stereotypes.

They didn't care whether Peturabo had prepared countless gifts on the Steelblood that would never be given, nor did they care about the chessboards that had been built for the brothers to fight each other and determine who was superior, nor did they care about Peturabo's conflicted mental state.

The Wings of Dawn will not tolerate him.

They only cared about when Peturabo, the Primarch who caused all this, would die; to Romulus, this Primarch was no more important than the men and women fighting on the surface of Cadia.

The only thing that attracted attention to him was the power remaining in his body. Since the owner of this power could not use it 'better', the Wings of Dawn would not hesitate to take it away.

What does 'better' mean?
I hope that the people in this galaxy can live better lives, and I hope that we can use this power to create a better living environment for humanity.

That was the Emperor's original intention in creating the Primarchs. He retrieved twenty essences from the Abyss, which even the Four Gods dared not tread, and created twenty Primarchs with his own expectations and hopes, hoping that they could lead humanity to a better life.

Then half of the sons betrayed them, and the remaining sons disappeared.

Now, this responsibility is being fulfilled by four beings who have had no connection with the emperor since their birth.

So they don't care.

"third."

Romulus released his grip, thus completing the anchoring of his soul.

The Mogta Stone, serving as the vessel for the ritual, was held in the hands of the ruler. As authority was infused into it, it became more complete, transforming from fragments into a dazzling original stone.

Among them, it is because of Peturabo's uniqueness over the past ten thousand years, as well as the worship of the Cult of Mechanics and countless technical soldiers, that Peturabo has been able to influence technological creations and preserve the authority over technology.

“I hope that all of you will disappear completely. I hope that one day I can drag the high and mighty gods down from their thrones. I can feel the pain you have brought to this galaxy, and I cannot let those humans who have been wantonly tormented by you suffer any more.”

“But you won’t see it, Peturabo, you will be the one who dies here.”

I will die.

This was an answer Peturabo had never considered.

This universe is tolerant of the strong, and he happens to be one of the strong.

He planned everything, he made thorough preparations, he overcame his own weaknesses from ten thousand years ago, and he even admitted his defeat.

He should make a comeback.

But now, he will die, with no second chance.

The result of failure is death.

When Peturab realized his true nature after ten thousand years of separation from the empire, he found that the rules had changed once again.

Even a Primarch as great as he was could not escape the fate of being destroyed after his defeat, even though Perturabo believed that he had discovered his true power.

(End of this chapter)