In Warhammer, throwing a muddle is impossible.

The four, along with the ghosts who died with honor, clashed with Forgrim once again.

This time, the situation has reversed.

In his rage, Forgrim lost all composure, while Caesar, empowered by the spirits of the fallen, fought with ever greater ferocity.

The ghosts rushed forward, using their bodies to block Forgrim's attacks, creating an opportunity for Caesar.

Finally, at the moment when all the ghosts had vanished.

Caesar seized the fleeting opportunity.

Solomon's weapon blessing was poured into his blade, and Vlad desperately locked onto Forgrim's arm.

Caesar's longsword sliced ​​through the air, cutting into Forgrim's proud face.

"My face! How dare you hurt my face!"

Fugrim covered his face and let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"I'm going to kill you! I'm going to turn you into a specimen!"

Slaanesh, deep within the warp, witnessed this scene through Forgrim's eyes.

That face, identical to Fulgrim's but bearing scars, only fueled the dark prince's perverse desires.

"I want him...right now!"

Rumble

The void trembled. An immense, despair-inducing warp force, blatantly disregarding the laws of the material universe, was forcibly poured into Forgrim's body.

The previously damaged Primarch was instantly revived, even becoming larger and more terrifying.

Vlad spat, "Damn it! Can't take a joke? Trying to get outside help?"

The four were now completely exhausted. Osiris had fallen unconscious from overexertion of summoning, and Caesar's sword had shattered.

[Solomon: Old man Huang! Old man Huang! Give it your all!]

Solomon desperately called out to the Emperor. But only four words echoed in his consciousness.

[Too far away...]

[Solomon: Damn! The Great Rift hasn't opened, and there's no signal in this godforsaken place!]

The group was in dire straits.

Just then, Relano, who had been unable to move, suddenly activated the virus bomb's activation signal.

"Lord Caesar."

The voice of the fearless mech was calm and resolute.

"You must reclaim the Legion's glory. This demon... I will take him away."

The red light behind Rellano, indicating the countdown to zero, began to flash rapidly.

"Let's perish together, Fogrim!"

"Holy crap? We're going to die together? Huh? Are we going to die too?"

Vlad was dumbfounded. "Wait a minute, brother! We don't have a boat! How are we going to escape? If this bomb goes off, we're all doomed!"

Everyone fell silent.

Yes, even if Rellano can destroy Forgrim's body, they will all perish with him.

"No...you still have a future."

A weak yet firm voice rang out.

Westerio, who had been lying on the ground, shakily stood up with the help of his two brothers.

Their power armor was tattered and their psionic energy was almost depleted.

But at this moment, a different kind of flame burned in the eyes of these three Thousand Sons Wizards.

“My lords,” Westerlio said, looking at the group of four, then at Audrey, who was being protected in Osiris’s arms, “you should not die here. You are the hope of the Empire.”

"Leave this place to us."

"What are you going to do?" Solomon was stunned.

The three Thousand-Child Wizards did not answer. They silently began to burn their remaining spiritual energy.

"In the name of Magnus... in the name of the Fifteenth Legion..."

A powerful psionic storm arose from the ground and instantly enveloped everyone.