Chapter 116: The Blackstone Displays Its Power
Francis severed Ka'bandha's head with a single stroke and continued running toward the direction where Horus was fighting.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps came from ahead, accompanied by the scraping of metal and a low growl.
He looked up and saw a group of Chaos Space Marines emerging from the smoke-choked corridor. They were clad in tattered yet still menacing power armor, every piece inscribed with chaotic runes and burning with warp-fire.
Leading the way was Abaddon, whose power claws gleamed bloodthirsty in the darkness. His eyes burned with zealous madness.
"How dare you trespass on the Vengeful Spirit?" Abaddon's voice was deep and hoarse, like a whisper from an ancient abyss. "You will become sacrifices to Chaos."
Then Abaddon saw who it was. His threat died in his throat, and he turned and vanished without a trace, as if he had never been there at all.
Francis stopped mid-stride. "..."
'Am I that scary?' He pointed to himself and turned to look at the Soul Drinkers behind him. "Uh-huh?"
The Soul Drinkers nodded, then immediately shook their heads in unison like rattles.
"I knew it! I'm not that scary. What a pity," Francis said, thinking aloud. "Killing Abaddon just now would have saved a lot of trouble!"
In the distance, hiding from view, Abaddon cursed his own survival instincts, terrified by Francis's casual words.
...
They finally reached the center of the Vengeful Spirit, which had been transformed into a battlefield where psionic energy and Chaos intertwined.
Sanguinius brandished his longsword, clashing fiercely with Horus's power claw. With each collision, the forces of the immaterium and Chaos erupted in devastating shockwaves.
Behind Horus, the phantoms of the four gods were faintly visible, and malevolent streams of warp energy stretched out like tentacles, attempting to devour the holy light surrounding Sanguinius.
Francis breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the stalemate.
He quickly ordered the Soul Drinkers to advance. "Don't risk going inside immediately. Just build a blackstone wall around the outside for me. Then build me a fortress! Use as much blackstone as possible!"
The Soul Drinkers opened the blackstone coffins, which were filled with countless square blackstone blocks, each one a shard of null-material, anathema to the Warp itself.
A familiar yet jarring sound rang out as the blocks clicked together with mechanical precision.
Horus turned around abruptly and saw Francis completely encased in blackstone armor, holding a blackstone sword in his hand.
"YOU DARE!! You dare show your face again!" Horus's voice reverberated through the air like thunder.
His rage erupted like a volcano, and the armor on his chest, covered in chaotic patterns, glowed with sickly light. The Talon drew a black and red arc in the air as he completely abandoned Sanguinius and charged directly at Francis.
"I will crush you and leave your soul in the Warp forever!" Horus roared, his voice filled with rage and madness.
"Then you should try out my precious baby first!!!" Francis grabbed a blackstone sarcophagus and hurled it with deadly accuracy, striking Horus mid-charge.
In that moment, Horus's psionic powers became sluggish and inflexible. The chaotic power that could have easily annihilated everything seemed to falter under the suppression of the blackstone. His movements became labored, as if moving through liquid lead.
"Damn it! Crooked sorcery!" Horus growled, attempting to break free from the coffin's oppressive aura with his warp-given strength. The sluggish flow of energy prevented him from unleashing his full power.
"As long as it works!" Francis, without hesitation, rammed into Horus with tremendous force. The blackstone sarcophagus, propelled by Francis's power, violently struck Horus, slamming him back several meters.
The sound echoed through the bridge, and the entire warship seemed to shudder from the impact. The mournful groan of stressed metal mingled with Horus's roar of fury.
As the smoke cleared, Francis, Sanguinius, and Horus stood in a triangle, with the blackstone sarcophagus between them. In a battle between masters, even the slightest advantage could determine the outcome.
At that critical moment, Leman Russ arrived on the battlefield with his signature weapon, the Spear of Russ. He took in the standoff at a glance, then turned his attention to Horus.
"Surrender, Horus!" His voice cut through the chaos like a blade. "You cannot win now. It's not too late to turn back."
When Leman Russ realized the extent of Horus's possession, he softened his tone, speaking earnestly to his fallen brother. "Give up. He's been controlled by something else."
"Put these on first," Francis said, his voice slow and firm as he casually produced two blackstone vests from his equipment harness and tossed them to the Space Wolf Primarch.
Horus quickly noticed the change. He had already felt his psionic energy stagnate during the battle due to the blackstone coffin that Francis had thrown, and now, with Leman Russ equipped, this oppressive feeling surged in like a tidal wave. His connection to the Four Gods flickered like a candle in the wind.
Every action now required more power from the four gods. The cost of resistance was mounting.
"Is this yet another one of your tricks?" Horus roared, his voice a mixture of rage and unease.
"Take him down first! Exorcism is my specialty!!" Francis shouted, immediately swinging his blackstone blade. The weapon sliced through the air, aiming straight for Horus's chest. The power of the Blackstone caused Horus's warp shield to shatter like paper.
Horus wielded the Talon like a raging god of war. Each strike was accompanied by breathtaking power, but even his offense could not completely break the trio's coordination.
Leman Russ followed closely behind, his spear flying like a storm, swift and precise.
Each thrust forced Horus to strain his defense further, his weakened connection to Chaos making every parry more difficult.
Sanguinius spread his wings and swooped down from above. His sword flashed like flame as he cleaved into Horus's left shoulder, leaving a deep and ragged wound.
Chaotic energy surged across the wound, attempting to heal it quickly, but Francis's blackstone blade disrupted the flow of warp energy, making Horus's recovery slow and agonizing.
Horus was caught in a frenzied assault.
He swung the Talon, creating shockwaves in the materium, but faced with the combined assault of three Primarchs, his movements became increasingly sluggish. He could no longer quickly mobilize his empyric strength.
As the blackstone wall took shape around them, the atmosphere on the battlefield became even more oppressive.
Horus's warp connection reached its nadir. Each swing of the Talon appeared slower, and even his roars became low and hoarse, the voice of a god made mortal.
"You dare to challenge the true gods!" Horus roared, swinging the Talon with desperate fury. He unleashed a storm of warp energy that briefly forced the three of them back.
But the three did not retreat.
Leman Russ roared and pounced on Horus again like a hunting wolf. His spear flashed with cold light and pierced Horus's abdomen, leaving behind a gushing stream of black blood.
Sanguinius followed closely behind, wielding his greatsword with both hands. He slashed at Horus's breastplate, tearing the dark Chaos-twisted armor to shreds.
Horus roared in fury, and the power of the Four flowed into his body once more. The twisted empyric energy repaired the torn wounds, and his power erupted again, but at an obvious cost. His movements grew sluggish and stiff, and the surge of warp power became increasingly unstable, like a dying star collapsing inward.
Just when victory was within reach, Fulgrim stopped his fierce combat with Ferrus. The madness in his eyes was tinged with an eerie, dazzling light, the sign of direct divine intervention.
A certain will, like a venomous serpent, coiled around his soul, manifesting as whispers that only he could hear.
"You were meant to pursue the highest pleasures. That is your destiny."
Fulgrim was overwhelmed by a mixture of pain and ecstasy. His warp-strength surged, forcing Ferrus back with brutal force. He turned and flew recklessly toward the Vengeful Spirit, abandoning his battle without hesitation.
Mortarion moved with heavy steps in his duel against Perturabo, each swing of his scythe carrying a putrid stench of decay. The whispers found him, too.
"Let go of your obsessions and embrace your father's love."
Mortarion's face contorted, and putrid ichor seeped from his armor. His coughs grew deeper and deeper until he stopped struggling entirely. He turned toward the Vengeful Spirit, moving with terrible purpose.
The air behind him distorted under waves of plague, and everything he passed through rotted into filth and corruption.
Angron, the Red Angel, had been fighting like a beast on the battlefield, but his figure suddenly froze as the will of Khorne poured into his mind like a whirlwind of rage.
"Go and kill for me! Follow the supreme Lord of Blood!"
Angron's rage reached its absolute peak. He roared and slaughtered all enemies and comrades who stood in his way, discriminating against none.
"Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!!" His cry echoed across the void as he was bathed in gore, transformed into a crimson hurricane, heading straight for Horus.
In the immaterium itself, Magnus's figure was enveloped in twisted blue flames. Huge azure chains tightly bound his consciousness, and the primarch of the Thousand Sons was forced to rush directly toward Horus's location, unable to resist.
They converged into a warp tsunami that crashed directly onto the edge of the blackstone wall.
The structure of the blackstone emitted a piercing resonance, and cracks began to appear in the runes that suppressed empyric energy. The blackstone barrier was weakening.
"We must not let them destroy the blackstone!" Francis roared and turned to intercept them.
"Go! We'll hold him off here!" Leman Russ roared and brandished his spear to block Horus's pursuit, keeping the corrupted Primarch engaged.
Sanguinius spread his wings and engaged Horus in a new flurry of combat, preventing him from taking advantage of the situation to break free of their containment.
At the same time, the Emperor on Terra sensed the moment. The Four Gods had actually abandoned their confrontation with Him in the Warp to take direct action in the materium.
He understood what this meant.
"The time has come," He spoke, and Terra was once again bathed in dazzling golden light. The entire throneworld seemed to transform into a golden ocean of psychic energy.
All the warp rifts on Terra were instantly sealed, the defense complete.
"Malcador, I'm leaving this place to you," the Emperor said, entrusting the Regent with the protection of the Throneworld.
The Emperor took a single step. Space rippled around Him as if reality itself were recoiling, and He instantly disappeared from the spot.
A golden ray of light pierced through the immaterium and appeared on the warship, like a newborn sun dispelling the gloom of Chaos.
[End of Chapter]
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