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Chapter 260: The Death of Angron (2-in-1)
🕑 Added 2025-08-31 14:26:16 +0000 UTCChapter 260: The Death of Angron (2-in-1)
Ferrus did not order the Purifiers to pursue the retreating Emperor's Children. The daemons of Slaanesh were still a major threat. Their duty now was to remain here and eliminate as many of them as possible to relieve the pressure on the Cadians. He had to destroy as many enemies as he could in the time he had left.
Ferrus and his Purifiers withdrew back to the human defensive lines. The Cadian soldiers in the trenches, having witnessed this supposedly dead Primarch banish a traitor Daemon Primarch before their very eyes, felt their morale surge. With Ferrus holding the line, the assault of the remaining daemon legions was brought to a dead stop.
Magnus sensed the psychic signature of Fulgrim vanish. A piercing shriek from the Prince of Pleasure echoed through the warp.
"Useless..." Magnus muttered. "A warrior who needs to inject combat drugs just to fight is truly unreliable."
After all, Fulgrim had all but ignored his own sons for ten thousand years, leaving the Emperor's Children to constantly work as mercenaries for others. In contrast, his champion, Lucius the Eternal, was exceptionally active. Lucius was also part of the Cadian campaign, though his forces were currently raiding Imperial worlds outside the Cadian system. And now, on his rare excursion out of the warp, Fulgrim had been utterly broken by Ferrus.
Magnus thought of his other brothers who had turned to Chaos. Few of them were dependable. They either hid in the warp, never to be seen, or were bottled up in their own systems. It seemed only he, Mortarion, and Angron still actively sought to destroy the decaying Imperium. And Mortarion, the most reliable of the three, had been taken out of the fight by Lucan from the very beginning. That left Angron... and Magnus had absolutely no hope for him.
But no matter how useless Fulgrim was in Magnus's eyes, he was still a Daemon Primarch. Who could have possibly killed him so quickly?
Tzeentch itself revealed the truth to him. His brother, Ferrus Manus, had returned to the mortal plane by some unknown means. The threads of his fate had reappeared in the tapestry of the universe. Tzeentch speculated that the Emperor had resurrected him through some hidden artifice. After all, during the War in the Webway, a shade of Ferrus had appeared. Others might not have known, but the Four Gods were well aware that the Emperor had preserved his soul.
Lucan was also very surprised. Ferrus had delivered a pleasant surprise, but there was also a hint of regret. Banishing Fulgrim was not the outcome he had most desired.
"What the hell? Fulgrim was banished that quickly? Is Ferrus that strong? Or is Fulgrim just that pathetic?"
Lucan could hardly believe it. His original plan was for Ferrus to pin Fulgrim down, and then he would arrive to help either purify or permanently kill the traitor Primarch with his own abilities. Ferrus had agreed to this plan. But in the end, Ferrus had just gone and defeated him on his own. It was a pity, Lucan thought, but battles were ever-changing, and he could understand. If achieving his preferred outcome required sacrificing more lives, it wasn't worth it. The only downside was that Fulgrim would eventually be reborn in the warp.
However, Lucan did not know that not only would Slaanesh not be letting Fulgrim out for a long time, but even if Fulgrim were revived, he likely wouldn't dare to venture out of the warp again anytime soon. Physical wounds were easy to heal; psychological scars were not so easily overcome.
Since it was done, Lucan did not dwell on it. He turned his attention to the two remaining Daemon Primarchs.
Lucan and Guilliman temporarily parted ways, each with a different objective. Lucan sent Artanis and all the Artificial Blanks with Guilliman to intercept Magnus, his Thousand Sons, and the daemons of Tzeentch. With the Blanks and Artanis to nullify his psychic power, Guilliman should be able to hold his own against his cyclopean brother. The Emperor's Sword in his hand would also be more than a match for any daemon.
As for Lucan himself, he was going to give Angron a reality check.
Of the forces led by the three Daemon Primarchs, Angron's had suffered the greatest losses. The other Primarchs coordinated their attacks with their legionnaires or daemons. Even as daemons, they still employed tactics to achieve the greatest results with the fewest casualties. Astartes had never relied on brute force and physical prowess alone to prove their worth in the Imperium; their superhuman physiology was merely their most basic asset.
But Angron's only method of warfare was to charge, charge, and charge again. Hack, chop, kill, kill, kill. He plunged so deep into the enemy lines that the World Eaters were forced to launch reckless assaults just to support him, leading to horrific casualties. But their assault was also the fastest. The traitors had traded lives for ground. Their actions pleased Khorne, and more and more of the Blood God's blessings rained down upon them.
The Night Sentinels escorted Lucan across the battlefield. Soon, they could see the Cadian position being overwhelmed in the distance. Two massive Lords of Skulls, Khornate daemon engines, were relentlessly advancing. Each shell they fired could wipe out every Cadian soldier in a trench. Behind them, mortal cultists devoted to Khorne continuously fed human skulls into their fuel chambers. They did not even spare the blood from the corpses; it was all necessary fuel to power the daemon engines.
Bloodthirsters, beating their tattered, fleshy wings, continuously dived into the human lines, destroying the Siege Tanks providing fire support from the rear. The SCVs had constructed numerous bunkers and missile turrets in the position, but the turrets had long since run out of ammunition; otherwise, they could have at least curtailed the Bloodthirsters' attacks. Eight of the Greater Daemons led eight legions of Khorne's daemons, with Bloodletters mounted on Juggernauts weaving through the Imperial lines.
There were few humans left in this position.
"My Lord, shall we attack?" Damon asked.
"Attack? Attack what? Why should we risk our lives when we can solve this with money?"
Lucan looked at the Night Sentinels around him. There weren't nearly enough of them to take out so many enemies. He checked the balance of his Psy-crystals. The battles on Cadia and the earlier naval engagement had provided him with a massive influx. He now had over four million, a number he had never reached before. That was enough to summon the DOOM Slayer for over an hour.
The thought of it was thrilling. He usually had to scrape by, summoning him for five or ten minutes at a time. Suddenly having an hour's worth felt like winning the lottery. It was time to show the daemons of Khorne what true carnage looked like. The Brass Throne should have the DOOM Slayer sitting on it.
Without hesitation, Lucan spent 3.6 million Psy-crystals, prepaying for a one-hour session with the Slayer.
"DOOM Slayer," Lucan muttered to himself as the crystals were consumed, "last time, I didn't let you kill Vashtorr because I really needed his power. I don't really need anything from Khorne. This time, I'm paying you big time. Please don't hold a grudge against me!"
The dimensional gate opened once more, but this time, due to the massive expenditure of energy, it was far larger than before. Anyone who didn't know better would think another massive warp portal had opened on Cadia. Lucan looked up... it was sixty, maybe seventy meters high.
The familiar silhouette, the familiar silence. The DOOM Slayer stood before Lucan once again. He looked at the army of Khorne in the distance, then back at Lucan. Lucan felt a wave of killing intent wash over him.
I knew it! You're still holding a grudge!
"Bro, I've emptied my pockets! One hour! Not five minutes, not ten minutes! It might not be enough for you to kill to your heart's content, but it should be enough to whet your appetite. If it's not enough, I can even extend it!"
Hearing Lucan's words, the DOOM Slayer seemed to accept his compensation. The bone-chilling killing intent vanished.
The moment the DOOM Slayer appeared, the advance of the Khornate army ground to a halt. Be it daemon, Chaos Astartes, or even the Imperial soldiers in the rear, everyone noticed the massive portal. The daemons knew this gate did not lead to the warp, but the world on the other side also radiated the energy of tortured souls. In the DOOM Slayer's universe, the power of Hell also came from the tormented souls of different worlds. Both realms were saturated with negative emotion. For the daemons of DOOM's Hell, his departure was a cause for great celebration. Someone else could take their punishment for a while. They hoped he would never return.
Angron stopped swinging his greatswords. The daemons of Khorne did the same. He had found the man Khorne wanted him to find... and the power and killing intent radiating from this being was enough to give even him a moment of pause.
Without hesitation, he abandoned the slaughter of the Imperial soldiers before him and charged towards the DOOM Slayer at full speed. The World Eaters followed close behind him, and the eight Bloodthirsters, Khorne's honor guard, also swooped down upon him. The legions of Bloodletters formed up into their own battle formations and advanced. The massive Lords of Skulls opened fire on the DOOM Slayer.
In response, the Slayer raised a shield inscribed with glowing runes. The world-shattering cannon blast was blocked by the single-handed shield. The shell was even parried, sent flying back to strike the Lord of Skulls that had fired it. The massive daemon engine collapsed in a heap of wreckage.
"A parry? Holy crap..."
The World Eaters could not believe their eyes. Only Angron continued his charge.
The blade containing the soul of a Greater Daemon of Slaanesh swung at the DOOM Slayer but was blocked by the shield. The seemingly fragile shield was incredibly durable; Angron's blow left only a shallow scratch.
Suddenly, Angron felt an irresistible force. The DOOM Slayer batted his weapon aside and slammed the shield into his chest. The rotating saw blades around the shield's edge began to grind into Angron's body. He let out a howl of agony; the saws were tearing at his very soul!
Then, a warhammer of a completely different design appeared in the Slayer's other hand. It smashed squarely into Angron's head. If Angron had still possessed a mortal body, that single blow would have killed him. But even in his current daemonic form, he nearly lost consciousness. The power imbued in the hammer struck at the very essence of his soul.
Who am I... where am I...
His massive body crashed to the ground.
Next, a special weapon appeared in the DOOM Slayer's hands. There was a skull in its loading chamber—the skull of a daemon he had hunted. When the trigger was pulled, the skull was crushed, and its fragments were fired out at an astonishing rate. The skull fragments easily pierced through the struggling Angron, and the projectiles that passed through his body went on to kill swathes of daemons behind him. The Bloodletter formations were instantly torn to shreds. The power armor of the World Eaters was shattered, and one by one, the daemons of the Bloodletter legions dissolved into wisps of energy that were absorbed into the DOOM Slayer's body.
Seeing the Bloodthirsters diving at him from the sky, the Slayer pulled out a weapon called the BFG and fired into the air. The warp energy within the Greater Daemons was instantly detonated, and they exploded into fragments... The daemons of the Lord of Skulls, killed by a skull. The irony was palpable.
Only ten minutes had passed, and half of the daemon army had already been annihilated. And these daemons were truly dead; not a single one had returned to the warp.
Pain... a pain that reached into his very soul, brought Angron to the brink of collapse. He could feel his own soul being devoured by the man before him. He used all his strength to pull the shield from his chest and threw it at the DOOM Slayer, but it automatically returned to the Slayer's hand.
He still wanted to fight.
But a hand reached out and grabbed his head, dragging his broken body like a dead dog. No matter how much he struggled, it was useless. As he walked, the DOOM Slayer began to pull the Butcher's Nails from Angron's head. With each one he pulled out, Angron moved a step closer to true death.
The DOOM Slayer was waiting. He was waiting for Khorne to invite him into his domain. For the Slayer, Khorne was a worthy opponent. A daemon of such power was almost non-existent in his own world.
In the warp, Khorne sensed the challenge issued by the DOOM Slayer. The remaining daemon legions on Cadia began to dissipate. The influence of Khorne across the entire planet was being gathered and focused on the DOOM Slayer's position. A one-way portal to Khorne's domain opened. Khorne had sacrificed the physical forms of his daemons in exchange for this gate to his realm.
The DOOM Slayer had been there before. He knew that countless daemons awaited him, ready to be slaughtered.
Looking through the portal, he could see the mountainous form of Khorne himself, having risen from his Brass Throne, awaiting his arrival. Countless Bloodthirsters and lesser daemons surrounded him. They had even cleared a large enough space for the two of them to fight.
Gazing at the colossal being, the DOOM Slayer pulled the last of the Butcher's Nails from Angron's head.
Sensing his own death, Angron stopped struggling. Perhaps, in this moment, he knew he could finally be free... free from the endless pain. Without the restraint of the Nails, Angron seemed to regain a moment of clarity. He thought back on his tragic life, how he had been used as a tool from beginning to end. He, who should have been the most merciful and empathetic of the Primarchs, had been twisted into this monstrous form by his experiences.
"My brothers and sisters... I am coming to join you."
In his final moments, Angron thought of his lost brothers and sisters, abandoned in the gladiator pits of Nuceria.
As his head was crushed, Angron died... permanently. A sigh echoed through the warp, but it was not from Khorne. It was from the Emperor.
Khorne, on the other hand, felt no remorse at the loss of Angron. He looked at the DOOM Slayer, his eyes burning with battlelust. One Daemon Primarch was a small price to pay. If he could gain the DOOM Slayer, he felt he could become the strongest being in the warp. All Khorne wanted to do now was to conquer the DOOM Slayer... or kill him.
As the DOOM Slayer finished absorbing Angron's soul, a massive, fully humanoid mech stepped out from the portal behind him. This was the weapon he had prepared for his battle with Khorne: the Royal Atlan Mech.
Khorne was simply too large. The DOOM Slayer needed some tools for this job.
