Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 377 Fierce Battle
Ahriman's scepter trembled and emitted a piercing hum, with psionic lightning bursting from its tip, tearing the void before him like fragile glass, leaving behind shimmering purple cracks.

His eyes had completely transformed into deep psionic vortexes, through which the boundary between the warp and the real world was clearly visible.

Fine beads of sweat had just seeped from his pale forehead when they were evaporated into tiny charged particles by the surrounding violent psionic field, forming an eerie blue halo in the air.

The robes of another Sorcerer Supreme fluttered in the raging energy storm, and the runes woven with ancient techniques flickered at a dazzling frequency, as if telling some forbidden truth.

His face remained serenely calm, like a still pool of water in the eye of a storm.

However, the edges of the robes had begun to carbonize, with tiny ash constantly peeling off and turning into sparks that flickered in the psionic turbulence, appearing from afar as if surrounded by a nebula.

Chen Xi's hands were as steady as a rock that had weathered a thousand years of wind and frost, and the psionic threads dancing between his ten fingers wove a spatial network so precise it was breathtaking.

Each of his subtle adjustments triggered a chain reaction—with a slight tremor of his fingertips, visible ripples appeared in the surrounding space, the basic properties of matter were briefly rewritten, and fundamental force fields such as gravity and electromagnetism were twisted and reorganized under his will.

At the center of the triangular magic circle formed by the three Sorcerers Supreme, a raging torrent of energy is forming a perfect Klein bottle structure.

The psionic lightning circulated among the three, and each complete energy cycle caused the spell's power to increase exponentially.

The air at the edge of the magic circle was distorted and deformed, refracting an eerie halo.

The spatial structure groaned under the strain, and fine cracks spread outwards like a spider web.

Purple subspace energy seeped from those cracks, twisting and writhing in the void like living things.

The rubble and metal fragments on the ground defied the laws of gravity and floated up, slowly rotating in the spiritual energy field, tracing exquisite Fibonacci spiral trajectories.

The entire battlefield trembled violently, and the metal ground rose and fell like the surface of a stormy sea.

The air was thick with the smell of ozone, and all the exposed metal surfaces were sparking with blinding blue electric sparks.

The storm, powerful enough to tear apart dimensions, was already brewing, but Chen Xi maintained an astonishing level of restraint—his gaze was fixed on the battlefield of the Demon Prince in the distance, waiting for the most crucial moment: when the victor tore open the path back to the Demon Realm of Khorne, that would be the perfect time to launch the final blow.

In the center of the battlefield, the battle between the two demon princes had transformed into a terrifying spectacle.

Muswag's body expanded continuously under the infusion of chaotic energy, eventually reaching a terrifying height of over ten meters, like a moving flesh and blood fortress.

The blasphemous runes on his dark red armor burst forth with dazzling blood light. The runes writhed like living things, releasing a suffocating pressure with each flash.

Each swing of his double-edged battle axe tore through the air, producing a deafening sonic boom. Wherever the axe blade passed, it left behind long-lasting, blood-red cracks in the space, as if reality itself had been wounded by this blasphemous weapon.

When the battle axe collided with the ground, the shockwave ripped and twisted the metal deck within a radius of 100 meters, tearing the thick armor plates to shreds like thin paper, with the fragments spinning and flying in the energy storm.

Zanazt's mutilated half of his body writhed continuously, his dark red flesh regenerating at a visible speed. The newly formed muscle fibers twisted wildly like maggots, only to be destroyed time and again by the residual spatial annihilation energy.

With each swing of his remaining bone claws, distorted ripples of fel energy were released, corroding metal into rust and solidifying air into purplish-black crystals wherever those ripples passed.

His tattered membrane wings barely unfolded, spewing out corrosive black mist, within which countless painfully distorted faces emerged, attempting to obscure Muswag's vision.

Whenever the black mist touched a metal surface, it immediately emitted a sizzling corrosion sound, and the thick armor plates were corroded through within seconds. Each collision between the two caused a small-scale spatial tremor, and the shockwave spread in a ring, instantly turning any approaching orcs into a bloody mist.

Those unfortunate green-skinned creatures didn't even have time to scream before their bodies exploded under the invisible pressure.

Zanazt suddenly opened his blood-red maw, his jawbone splitting open at an illogical angle, spewing out a torrent of foul blood mixed with bone fragments.

Countless wailing souls surged within this waterfall of blood, and even the air seemed to groan in agony wherever it passed.

Muswag neither dodged nor evaded, but instead slashed horizontally with his battle axe, splitting the waterfall of blood in two.

The cleaved waves of blood splashed all around, each drop corroding deep pits in the metal floor and sending up pungent sulfurous fumes.

At the edge of the battlefield, dozens of orc leaders were charging madly, their minds completely consumed by the desire to fight.

These green-skinned men brandished crude weapons, emitting deafening "Waaagh!" sounds, eager to fight the two powerful giants in front of them.

However, upon entering within 100 meters of the combat zone, his body suddenly burst into flames, his green skin carbonized and peeled off in the invisible energy, and his muscle tissue melted like a candle.

They turned to ashes amidst screams, leaving only charred skeletons still in their charging posture.

The turbulent energy generated by the battle between the two demon princes has created a death zone, where any mortal that steps into it will be instantly reduced to ashes.

The boundaries of this field are clearly visible—the inside is a distorted reality, while the outside is a relatively normal battlefield, forming an invisible dividing line between life and death.

The space blockade on the moon where the orcs fought had long been broken, and Zanazt once again began summoning the Khorne's army.

Although the previous offerings had been exhausted, the mountains of orc and undead corpses piled up on the battlefield served as a perfect substitute.

Even more terrifying, living greenskins were pouring in from all directions—Warboss with his heavily armored guard, orc leaders brandishing exaggerated weapons, and ordinary lads letting out deafening "Waaagh!" roars.

The human forces wisely retreated to the edge of the battlefield, building a solid defensive line.

The Astartes silently inspected their weapons and ammunition, while the battle nuns chanted prayers in hushed tones.

Everyone understood that their mission was to buy precious time for the three Sorcerers.

As expected, the orcs focused all their attention on the two demon princes—after all, nothing was more "Waaagh" than two giant Khorne demon princes.

Muswag cleverly used the killing energy on the battlefield to enhance himself; each fallen corpse increased his power by one point.

Zanazt, on the other hand, attempted to use this energy to repair his damaged body while summoning more Khorne's army to buy time.

The two chaotic forces clashed repeatedly on the battlefield, yet neither could gain the upper hand for a long time.

(End of this chapter)