In Warhammer, throwing a muddle is impossible.

"Your swordsmanship is not bad, but it's still too immature." Fugrim chuckled, then suddenly exerted force with one hand.

Caesar's left-hand saber also began to groan.

[Caesar: Stop talking nonsense! Come on, lend a hand! I can't hold on much longer!]

The next second, Forgrim raised all four of his blades high, ready to deliver the final blow to Caesar.

Caesar's last remaining sword was utterly inadequate to defend against attacks from all four directions.

"Come on, and become part of my collection!"

At the critical moment.

"Get out of here!!!"

Osiris, who had been teetering on the edge, suddenly threw away the rifle in his hand.

His eyes were bloodshot as he recklessly activated the most core ability within his system permissions—[Summoning].

But this time, it was not the faceless ghost soldiers who answered his call.

Boom! ...

Pale flames roared across the ruins, and mist instantly engulfed the battlefield.

But there was no fear in this fog, only endless tragedy and anger.

One by one, tall figures emerged from the mist. They wore tattered power armor, the same purple-gold paintwork of the emperor's sons from the Great Crusade era, noble and impeccably tailored.

Even in their ghostly form, their armor remained spotless.

“This is…” Rellano’s voice trembled.

The leader, a ghostly Astartes, was not wearing a helmet. He had a resolute and loyal face, a hero worthy of being remembered by history.

He raised the explosive gun in his hand, pointed it at his former father, and pulled the trigger.

Fogrem's movements froze.

He looked at the leader of the ghosts, a complex expression on his face, a mixture of nostalgia and mockery.

"Oh, my Taviz. I never thought I'd see you again."

"Fire! For the Emperor!"

Soltaviz's ghost roared.

Dozens of ghostly Astartes opened fire simultaneously. Although they were phantom bombs made of psionic energy, they still caused ripples when they hit Forgrim, forcibly interrupting his execution.

"A bunch of dead men trying to stop me?"

Enraged, Forgrim swept his serpent tail, smashing the first few wraiths to pieces.

However, those broken spirits did not disappear.

They transformed into streaks of purple-gold light, flowing like rivers into the sea, towards Caesar, who was covered in blood.

That is memory. That is belief. That is the last vestige of these loyalists.

I'm sorry, Lord Caesar, but you're required to shoulder such a heavy burden...

But even if we die, we will do everything in our power to help you reclaim the Legion!

Please inherit our name... and wash away our shame...

We are... the sons of the Emperor!

Countless voices echoed in Caesar's mind. A heavy responsibility was being entrusted to him.

Volume 1: Chapter 62 The Snake and the Phoenix

"what!!!"

Caesar looked up to the sky and roared.

He felt a massive surge of heat explode within his body.

His body, which had been exhausted from the intense battle, was now full of strength once again.

Click!Click!

That was the sound of terracotta steel shattering.

The black power armor on Caesar's body was now emitting a shriek of unbearable strain.

It's too tight.