Chapter 300 – Guilliman: I… I’ve Doomed My Brother!

A burning forge world.

Flames of war raged, and corpses paved a ritual circle faintly visible through the firelight, the bloody miasma dyeing the sky red.

BOOM—

A terrifying, colossal demonic shadow descended like a harbinger of destruction from the abyss. The ritual shattered under its massive steps.

The air froze in terror. The entire battlefield fell silent.

Only the roar of the daemon echoed—

The First Daemon General, Ka'Bandha, had arrived.

He deeply regretted missing his chance to face the Devourer in battle.

By accident, he had responded to the summoning of his loyal worshippers, arriving here to spread blood and slaughter in Khorne's name.

And so, he had missed the perfect opportunity.

Perhaps it was for the best.

The First Daemon General didn't want to join a group assault—that would be dishonorable.

If fate allowed, he would duel the Devourer one-on-one someday.

"Oh Great Blood God of War…"

Seeing the shadow descending with a legion, the Khorne High Priest was feverishly devoted. "We beg you to save your loyal believers—kill these damn insectoid xenos!"

Huh???

Ka'Bandha froze.

Weren't they supposed to be killing Imperial humans?!

"For the Four-Armed Emperor!"

Before he could react, several enemy aircraft launched suicidal attacks.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Though his blood-whip destroyed a few, one slammed into his iron body and detonated a melta bomb, scorching his flesh.

"Damn bugs!!"

Ka'Bandha flew into a rage. The situation became clearer—

This planet had been overrun by Genestealers, and in desperation, the remaining humans had unearthed ancient Khorne rituals, summoning him to fight them.

They'd used blood and bones in mass to call upon the so-called Blood God to resist these vile xenos.

It nearly knocked Ka'Bandha senseless.

The worshippers, by comparison, seemed more human. Was he... helping the Imperium?!

What's worse—

The power generated by their sacrifice was weak. Normally, such a summoning wouldn't even draw a glance from the First Daemon General.

But he happened to be "on a trip," and personally burned his own warp reserves to power the portal.

Basically, he paid out-of-pocket to come to work.

Arriving like this in realspace made him weaker, and now he faced an enemy that gave little in return in terms of souls or energy.

An absolute loss!

The damned bugs showed no fear of the daemons. On the contrary, they charged more ferociously.

They fought back ferociously—

Many Genestealer hybrids even detonated themselves to kill daemons in mutual destruction.

ROAR—

Ka'Bandha went berserk.

His blood-whip lashed across the battlefield, and his colossal axe split the land, magma surging and engulfing vehicles and hybrids alike.

"Praise the Blood God!"

The display of power sent the Khorne cultists into a frenzy.

Then—

The blood axe crushed them into paste.

Kill. Kill. Kill. Everyone dies!

Ka'Bandha was furious and ready to destroy everything in sight…

—

Khorne's Realm

In the Brass Hall, Khorne learned that Ka'Bandha had responded to worshippers and gone to some remote corner to spread terror and carnage. A sigh of regret.

What a shame—

Ka'Bandha had missed the perfect chance to kill the Devourer.

When he returned, he would surely regret it.

The Khorne Daemon Lords weren't afraid of the upcoming campaign against the Devourer.

They were thrilled.

The Devourer's name echoed through the Warp—too many daemons feared him.

At the same time—

Countless daemons were studying him, trying to find weaknesses.

With more intelligence gathered, they discovered that the Devourer himself didn't seem all that powerful.

The only real threat—

Was his cursed weapon, imbued with the power of the Forsaken.

And even then, only a tiny portion of that power.

As long as they were careful and defensive, they could survive.

Once the weapon's power was depleted—

The Devourer would fall.

Now, the Khorne Daemon Lords' bloodlust surged.

They fought to be chosen to lead the legions into Charalton, kill the Devourer, and seize eternal glory—

And replace Ka'Bandha as Khorne's First Daemon General.

Their fervor pleased the Blood God.

The Devourer's shadow would be erased, like dust in the wind.

Khorne carefully selected eight of the strongest Daemon Lords, including Angrath, the previous First General.

Their mission—

Travel to Charalton.

Kill the Devourer.

And lead the infernal legions toward Holy Terra.

"Ka'Bandha missed the most important opportunity of his life," Angrath sneered. "When he returns, he'll find himself beneath my heel again…"

Angrath had already vowed—

He would personally sever the Devourer's head for the Skull Throne.

In Khorne's fiery anticipation, eight Khorne Daemon Lords, led by Angrath, marched with a vast army into the Veil of Charalton.

And it wasn't just Khorne—

The other three Chaos Gods were also mobilizing.

Each sent their own Daemon Lords and legions to join Be'lakor's grand Dark Crusade.

Their numbers showed just how serious they were:

Slaanesh: 6 Daemon Lords

Nurgle: 7 Daemon Lords

Khorne: 8 Daemon Lords

Tzeentch: 9 Daemon Lords

Thirty named Daemon Lords from the Warp.

Under Be'lakor's coordination—

The gods had set aside their rivalry and launched a joint army.

An extremely rare event.

The Warp seethed with anticipation.

So many legions in motion—

Even the mightiest Chaos beings couldn't ignore it.

If the plan succeeded—

The united Daemon Armies would ravage the Imperium's core, defiling and corrupting all in their path.

Bringing untold devastation.

…

Far away, among the stars.

Macragge's Light – Sanctum of the Primarch

Guilliman, as usual, sat over his desk, processing endless reports.

Battle reports from the frontlines flowed to him constantly—

Allowing him to see the war's progression.

Lately, the Primarch had felt better.

The fleets were reclaiming lost territory—

And he'd found his long-lost brother: Eden.

With his return, hope was reborn.

Guilliman's frown had finally eased a little.

Recently—

He even managed to sleep a full night. The Apothecaries were stunned.

All thanks to his brother Eden.

He had shared his burden, helping him cope with the war against Chaos.

Guilliman sipped coffee while scanning reports—

A rare moment of peace.

"Hm, front-line pressure's easing. Chaos reinforcements are decreasing?"

He noticed a strange pattern.

On the surface, a good thing.

But—

It made him uneasy.

With his experience, Guilliman knew—

You could never relax with Chaos.

Too many disasters had come from letting down their guard.

He contacted the Chief Librarian, ordering a review of psychic and galactic anomalies.

Strong psykers were attuned to the Warp—

With the right rituals, they could even gain glimpses of the future.

Many times—

They had warned of major Chaos movements.

Soon, the Librarians returned with terrifying news—

A great darkness was gathering in Charalton.

The Chief Librarian shared something worse:

The Chaos Gods themselves were stirring.

Dozens of Daemon Lords were moving toward the Veil.

If the intel was accurate—

Their target was Charalton.

To Guilliman—

This was a thunderclap.

If that many Daemon Lords invaded realspace—

It would be catastrophic.

Especially since—

Charalton was a strategic Imperial node.

If Chaos took it—

They could strike deep into the heart of the Imperium.

His great Indomitus Crusade would become a joke.

Even if he reclaimed other regions—

He could never offset the loss.

Suddenly, a dreadful thought struck him—

"I may have sent my brother Eden to his death…"

Should he order a retreat?

Guilliman visibly aged, torn with guilt.

From the heart—

He didn't want Eden risking his life in Charalton.

He couldn't bear to lose another brother.

But—

For the Imperium's sake, someone had to hold the line, to delay Chaos long enough for reinforcements.

Remembering Eden's past courage, he found hope.

Perhaps he could endure until help arrived.

Guilliman relayed the intelligence to Holy Terra.

To calm the masses—

He announced that a new Primarch—the Devourer— was holding the line.

He ordered Imperial High Command to gather reinforcements.

The news shook the Imperium.

Every sector near Charalton went on alert.

Even with the Primarch's reassurance—

Panic spread.

Many nobles fled to Terra under flimsy excuses—

And refused to return.

The Imperium's elite now watched Charalton closely.

But the region overflowed with warp energy and fog—

Reliable intel was hard to come by.

With Guilliman gone from Terra—

The High Lords returned to their usual power games.

They half-heartedly followed his orders—

Deliberately delaying reinforcements.

Some even secretly hoped Eden would die and never return.

A second Primarch meant losing more of their power.

Sure, Chaos threatened the Imperium—

But that didn't affect them personally.

The Imperium was vast.

Most leaders would never see a battlefield in their lives.

Whole planets and armies could vanish—

And it would be just another line on a report.

They had long become numb.

To them, Holy Terra was safe—

Guarded by the Custodes.

The last time Chaos reached its surface—

Was ten thousand years ago.

A distant memory.

So they focused more on politics than war.

To them, losing power hurt more than losing planets.

At the High Lords' Council—

Many voiced concerns and excuses.

They claimed it was impossible to raise a large enough force in time.

To be fair—

Guilliman's crusade had already drawn most Imperial forces.

In this state—

The Imperium preferred defending key regions or Terra's perimeter.

No one wanted to waste fleets on the decaying Charalton.

Even nearby sectors hesitated.

Why send their forces?

Who would protect them?

Everyone agreed Charalton must be defended—

But no one wanted to be the one to do it.

The Imperium had brave warriors—

But as an organization—

It was a scattered federation of forces.

Everyone fought their own battles.

By contrast—

The Savior's domain had centralized power.

Un-Imperial, but effective.

It proved Guilliman's value.

He could unite the Imperium—at least somewhat.

His efforts merely tightened the screws on a collapsing machine.

When it would fall apart—

No one knew.

The High Lords did form a "reinforcement fleet"—

But it was sluggish and weak.

By the time they arrived—

Charalton might already be gone.

Still, this was the Imperium's way.

For now—

Charalton's rising storm caught the eye of both the Imperium and the Warp.

Everyone waited to see—

What would become of the Devourer.

—

Charalton Region

Dreamweaver – Savior's Sanctum

Eden had just finished a psychic conversation with Guilliman.

The Primarch looked more aged than before—

And deeply apologetic.

He asked Eden to hold off Chaos as long as possible, buying time for reinforcements—

Saying the Ninth Fleet would arrive soon.

But clearly—

He had little faith in Imperial efficiency.

Eden reassured him.

He promised to do all he could.

Guilliman, thinking Eden meant to fight to the death, hesitated—

Then urged him to retreat if the situation became hopeless.

He didn't want to lose another brother.

Eden was moved.

He agreed to be cautious.

Then, reading the latest war reports, he sighed deeply.

He was nervous.

Thirty named Daemon Lords were coming.

Some might even be old enemies.

This proved—

There could be no rest in war against Chaos.

Any slack—and they'd crank up the difficulty.

Thankfully, he had brought enough forces to possibly turn the tide.

If— and only if—

He destroyed the dark machine and sealed the rift before the daemons arrived.

Otherwise—

The Savior's forces would suffer grievously.

All the strength his domain had built up over the years—

Could vanish.

And Charalton would be doomed.

"Lord Savior…"

Tako from the Naval Department came to report:

"No Imperial fleet has entered Charalton's vicinity. No reinforcements in sight."

Eden had expected this.

The Imperium had long been running on fumes, and its leaders were obsessed with power.

But taxes? Oh, they were efficient with those.

Had Charalton resisted the tithe—

They'd have been swarmed with fleets in days.

Eden looked to Tako.

"There's no more time. We'll handle this ourselves."

He contacted Admiral Kaes.

And gave the final order.

Today—under the eyes of the galaxy's many factions—

The Savior would launch an all-out assault on Be'lakor's lair.

—

Deep in Charalton

Corevax

The planet was completely enveloped in warp energy.

Colossal daemon shadows stood guard, behind them legions of daemons.

Be'lakor sat on his throne, awaiting his moment of glory.

He was pleased.

Victory is best witnessed.

He would defeat the Devourer in full view of the Warp's elite!

"They're coming…"

His blue eyes glowed with excitement.

The Devourer's fleet was closing in—flying straight into his trap.

He issued the command.

Let the Chaos fleets, itching for bloodshed—

Begin their warp-jumps.

Elsewhere—

Vast Chaos fleets engaged short-range warp-jumps.

"Warriors, the time has come…"

The Chaos commander sneered.

"We'll crush those pathetic Imperials and show them the might of the Despoiler's fleet!"

Excited roars filled the Chaos ranks.

It was time to kill.

At the same time—

Volradi's fleet received the assault order and charged toward Corevax.

But there was still—

No resistance.

This eerie silence was unsettling.

Thankfully, sensors showed no warp traps.

Eden also monitored the fleet's progress.

Still no enemy contact?

No way Be'lakor would leave his lair unguarded…

A chill crept over him.

"Is Be'lakor hiding too, waiting like me?"

He stood up suddenly and gave the order:

"Savior Fleet, full warp-jump to Corevax!"

—

Corevax Airspace

Volradi's fleet approached attack range.

Then—

Space rippled violently.

Alarms blared.

"Enemy contact!"

Woooo—

Void shields lit up across the fleet, at maximum output.

WHOOSH!

Hundreds of Chaos warships warped in, surrounding Volradi's fleet from all sides.

On the bridge—

Volradi saw the stars vanish.

All he saw now—

Was enemy ships.

"Imperial dogs, surprised?"

"Hahahaha! Time to die!"

"Your end is here…"

Chaos comms erupted with laughter and mockery.

On Corevax—

Daemons roared with excitement.

Warp flames darkened the sky.

Be'lakor rose from his throne, arms outstretched, facing the daemons.

"Let us enjoy this grand fireworks show—let the Devourer watch as his fleet dies!"

—

Third Fleet Flagship

Volradi, calm, listened to the Chaos mockery.

Then smiled.

He spoke into the comm:

"Found you. Dark Lord's main fleet—just so you know, you're surrounded…"

The Chaos commanders laughed even harder.

Until—

BOOM!

Space tore open again.

Alarms screamed.

WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOSH—

Countless Savior warships warped in.

The laughter died.

Now—

They were the ones surrounded.

Volradi's fleet had been the bait.

The Savior fleet had encircled the Chaos encirclement—

A pincer trap.

The stars vanished from the Chaos perspective—

Only blackness remained.

"No…"

Before they could scream—

The Savior fleet's guns opened fire, drowning them in hellish bombardment.

—

The thunderous blasts reached Corevax's surface.

"Listen—listen to the symphony of destruction…"

Be'lakor, back to the fleet, faced the Daemon Lords—

Arms raised, eyes closed.

As if savoring the firestorm—

Completely unaware…

That the fireworks were for him.

(End of Chapter)

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