This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 421 Revenge Arrives
The Death Guard's chief commander should have realized long ago that ever since he gave all the Gastrin to Dorne to be used as human stakes in Terra Palace ten thousand years ago in Saturn, this Chaos Warmaster had completely lost his sense of shame.

Compared to the past when he was all in tears and pounding the ground in grief, this time he won't even bother to cry or pretend!
clang!
The elevator has reached its highest position.

Typhons took off running and finally made contact with his flagship.

"grown ups!"

A voice came from the 'Termination Manifestation'.

"You must change your location."

what?
A surge of anger rose in Typhon's heart.

He couldn't help but want to lash out after Abaddon usurped his command in an instant.

"The Lord of Knights is nearby."

The flames that had risen were extinguished in an instant.

"Where is he?!"

Typhons questioned, while simultaneously channeling his psychic powers.

Arthur's location is not difficult for psykers to detect, given his influence on the warp manifests in every aspect of the battlefield.

It was an approaching emptiness, the vanishing of everything, true death.

Every appearance on the battlefield signifies the eternal demise of a Son of Nurgle.

"what!!!"

Layer upon layer of piercing screams emanated from the video feed.

The resilient Death Guardian knelt on the ground, weeping and wailing. The creatures that made up its body, blessed by a benevolent father, should not have felt pain, yet they let out a continuous series of screams.

These creatures hissed as they broke free of their armor, then fell to the ground, bounced a few times, and remained still.

The earth beneath his feet began to wither, turning into pure lifelessness.

The Knights of the Round Table moved around their Lord Knight. Led by twelve named knights, their superior martial skills and bodies sculpted by countless hours of wisdom and sweat made them like stars orbiting a star, able to keep up with their Lord Knight's every swing of the sword.

It's like the gust of wind that follows every time a sword blade slashes across the ground.

They can fight a good battle.

They can win every battle.

As long as they are resolute, trust each other, and are no longer trapped in internal strife due to various factors, they will be able to transform the fearless perseverance of their compatriots into a grand annihilation.

Boom!

A cannonball landed near the Lord of Knights, hitting one of the nameless statues standing beside the bridge. When the smoke cleared, the base was empty, leaving only claw-shaped ruins.

Gravel poured down.

The statue still stands.

There is no longer enemy fire coverage.

The distant firepower coverage was torn into chaos by the Ravenwings' onslaught as they fired their first shot. The troops, riding anti-gravity motorcycles, climbed up the building, heading for the next firing point, and using inertia to fling off the shattered armor hanging from their power halberds.

The Knight Lord's figure disappeared again, and even in his undisguised state, it took the Oser array more than ten seconds to find his next location.

The place was littered with corpses, some of them Death Guardians, and others from other Chaos factions.

The Lord of Knights strolled briefly among them, his gaze shifting left and right.

Information from the entire battlefield was converging on him, and Arthur used this information to search, as if he were surveying his own hunting grounds.

The adjutant in the communication drew a conclusion.

He's looking for you.

This made Typhon feel as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.

An overwhelming sense of panic gripped him, and each exchange of glances through the camera lens deepened that panic.

Not an inch will be retreated.

This is Typhon's maxim as a guardian of death.

Not an inch will be retreated.

He, and the Death Guards, have always been proud of it.

But at this moment
No, I absolutely cannot let him sense me again!

Typhons was trembling all over. As if on cue, the chill emanating from his soul made him instinctively cut off communications after giving the 'Terminator Manifestation' his order to come to his aid. "Go, go to the nearest space elevator!"

Typhons shouted and led his guards on a run.

The dull thud quickly attracted the attention of the Dark Angels.

damn it!
Typhon immediately broke out in a cold sweat.

This reminded him of ten thousand years ago, when the lion was still alive, and how terrifying the dark angels, focused on fighting, were when their petty thoughts were suppressed.

They will seize upon any slightest disturbance and then launch a series of attacks.

Typhons ran headlong, dodging the bombs and rumbling of vehicles chasing him, releasing swarms of flies and dark green plague to obscure his vision, looking exactly like a bloated sea cucumber spraying its entrails to attract predators.

They soon arrived at a transport pod location, where a considerable number of Chaos traitors had gathered, vying for a chance to escape. The windows inside the pod were stained with blood; these traitors had probably killed more of their own kind than their enemies at that moment.

Typhons unleashed a psionic lightning bolt, blasting seven members of some unknown warband blocking the transport capsule's hatch into a bloody mess of armor fragments. He then casually tore open the hatch, which had been closed by a World Eater.

More people passed through him and began to pour into the ripped-open elevator doors.

Typhons also strode forward, running at full speed.

Boom! ! !

The transport capsule began to climb, its edges breaking free from the stabilizer's grip. The thrusters helped it drift sideways away from the tarmac. At this moment, Typhons's bulky body leaped up with all his might, his hands gripping the handrails on the edge of the capsule door tightly.

As the transport capsule left the lock, the lock doors slid open to the sides, and a large number of corpses and building debris rolled out.

boom!
Typhons was struck on the head by the iron helmet of a watchful angel, his arms sank downwards, and his legs dangled in the air.

Behind him, the ferocious, hysterical Chaos forces gathered at the edge of the platform, howling furiously at the transport pod that had just abandoned them and escaped their clutches.

In their furious frenzy, they crowded together, causing some people on the edge of the platform to stumble and fall.

He was pushed down by the frenzied hordes of his own kind surging from behind.

The Dark Angel has arrived!

The pilot is struggling to maintain control of the transport pod and avoid the Black Claws and Valkyries that are pursuing their combat aircraft.

Death Guards are trying to drag Typhons into the cabin.

Typhons was struggling to grip the protrusion on the edge of the hatch.

Against the backdrop of this catastrophic exchange of plasma, lasers, and artillery shells, the entire landing site descended into chaos as the last transport pod departed.

Gunfire scattered everywhere. A massive Plague fighter flew past, and the Valkyrie chasing behind it fired missiles. Heavy bombs, forming a line of fire, hit the transport pod, tearing open a large area of ​​the upper part of the pod in the burst of fire.

A large number of traitors who were still fighting among them shot out.

Hanging outside the capsule, Typhons watched as the people rose and fell beside him, trying to use his psionic powers to pull himself into the transport capsule.

However, his loving father's reminder made him dare not use even a trace of his spiritual power.

Typhons gripped the bulkhead with all his might.

A series of small explosions rang out on the transport cabin. The bodyguard who had been trying to hold him back was pulled out of the damaged cargo cabin along with the handrail by the suction force and fell away from him.

Typhons reached out to grab it, but then quickly tightened his grip in the instant his body relaxed.

He watched helplessly as the body of the withered overlord plummeted into the earth, completely obscured by the ruins, and was then blasted into a cloud of blood mist by a series of flying arrows.

The transport capsule is flying at an increasingly faster speed.

It began to break through the atmosphere and gradually entered the void.

The transport capsule drifted into the 'Termination Manifestation'.

Typhons released his grip only when the bodyguards touched his body.

The white paint was deeply embedded in the inside of his gauntlet.

He even crushed the metal to steady himself.

Typhons picked up the scythe hanging on his back again, and his entire being relaxed the moment he came into contact with the 'Terminator Manifestation'.

Safe!
Space is filled with wrecked ships and burning debris.

Unexploded debris littered the interior of the galaxy, where a lone squadron of fighters and attack aircraft, their mothership destroyed, flew back and forth between fleets, seeking refuge or revenge.

Typhons ran toward the bridge, toward his throne, his back to the shadows that were gradually approaching them in the void.

It's safe now.

?
(End of this chapter)