Fulgrim's tail swung wildly on the metal ground, making a creepy screeching sound.

His four arms seemed to have lost control, grasping the air convulsively as if they wanted to tear everything in front of them to pieces.

Purple blood slowly oozed out from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto the fine gold floor drop by drop, making a corrosive hissing sound. The blood seemed to have some kind of powerful corrosiveness, and the moment it came into contact with the fine gold floor, wisps of green smoke emerged.

His once flawless face was now completely distorted, as hideous and terrifying as a demon. His left eye flashed with an unstable purple light, like a blasphemous star that was about to go out, emitting a strange and dangerous light.

"How dare you..." Fulgrim's voice was no longer the elegant aria of the past, but was filled with a venomous hissing sound, which contained endless anger and resentment. "You lowly bastard, do you think you can judge me like this?"

In the face of Fulgrim's roar, Ferrus Manus remained silent. He just stared at the fallen Primarch in front of him with indifference.

His pupils were like dead objects, coldly locked on Fulgrim's throat, without the slightest emotional fluctuation.

The war hammer "Furnace Destroyer" in his hand hung low at his side, and the force field of the hammer head kept buzzing, as if accumulating strength.

Arcs of electricity danced in the air, highlighting every cold edge on his metallic face, making him look like an unshakable steel fortress.

“I do not judge you.” Ferrus’ voice was like an anvil in a forge. “I merely carry out the destiny that has already been foreseen.”

"That means sending you to hell..."

The moment Ferrus's voice fell, Fulgrim's snake tail suddenly straightened, and the stinger at the end of the tail flashed a cold purple light, stabbing towards Ferrus' knee like a poisonous scorpion.

At the same time, his four arms swung at the same time, and the four magic blades drew deadly arcs.

The sword blade stabbed at four places of Ferrus' pupil, throat, heart, and lower body.

However, the Lord of Steel reacted faster.

Ferrus's hammer swept across with the force of thunder, and the shock wave from the force field exploded, knocking the four magic blades away at the same time.

His nano-metal left hand accurately grabbed the attacking snake's tail, his servo muscle groups made a harsh buzzing sound, and his five fingers tightened like hydraulic pliers.

"Crack!"

The sound of bones breaking was so crisp and horrifying that Fulgrim's arm was broken, the stinger and three bones were torn off, and pale golden blood gushed out like a fountain.

"Ah——!" The fallen Primarch let out a heart-wrenching scream. The sound was no longer a human scream, but a blasphemous sound mixed with the wails of thousands of demons.

Ferrus didn't give him a chance to breathe.

He grasped Fulgrim by the throat, digging his fingers into that once perfect neck.

The Fallen Primarch's skin began to carbonize the moment it came into contact, emitting wisps of black smoke.

“You are afraid, traitor.” Ferrus’ voice was like a cold, mechanical judgment. “I can smell it—the stench of your soul.”

Fulgrim's four arms clawed frantically at Ferrus's armor, nails scraping against adamantium.

His lips trembled as he tried to cast the last of his Slaanesh illusions—

Purple mist poured out from his seven orifices, transforming into countless enchanting phantoms that coiled around Ferrus' head.

Those illusions are his most vicious weapons, able to awaken the deepest desires and weaknesses in any living being.

However, a dazzling golden light suddenly burst out from Ferrus' pupils.

The light was like the rising sun at dawn, instantly dispelling all the fog of blasphemy.

Fulgrim's pupils suddenly contracted - he recognized the nature of the light.

“No… Impossible…” His voice was distorted with fear, “How could you…”

Ferrus's metal face looked extremely sacred and cold in the golden light.

"I will crush your soul and send it to the loyal spirits."

Fulgrim's struggle reached a frenzy at this moment.

His body twisted like a dying beast, and his four arms desperately grabbed at Ferrus's visor.

"Tell me! Ferrus! You—"

His questioning was interrupted by a heavy punch. Ferrus's mechanical iron fist hit his face, and the sound of the bridge of his nose shattering was clearly audible.

The body of the Fallen Primarch flew backwards like a rag doll, crashing through seven adamantine walls in succession before finally becoming embedded in the crack of the eighth wall.

In the dusty ruins, Fulgrim struggled to get up. His left arm was broken and hung twisted at his side; the other arm was bent in the opposite direction, with corrosive blood dripping from the broken end of the snake's tail.

But the most terrifying thing was the fear frozen on his face.

Ferrus was approaching with heavy steps.

He didn't know when a long sword burning with golden flames appeared in his hand.

The sword was engraved with ancient imperial runes, and the hilt was marked with the emblem of a double-headed eagle. The light flowing on the blade was exactly the same as that of the Emperor's Sword.

"The Emperor has entrusted me with this sacred mission, and I will accomplish it."

"For the Emperor, and for the countless loyalists who have died at your hands."

Fulgrim's lips trembled, but no sound came out.

His four eyes, two human and two snake, simultaneously reflected the approaching holy sword.

Despite all the blessings Slaanesh bestowed upon Fulgrim, he still pales in comparison to true power.

The moment the sword was raised, time seemed to stand still.

Ferrus's pose was like that of a dragon-slaying warrior in a classical sculpture, with his sword raised above his head and a halo of golden light behind him.

Fulgrim's twisted body resembled the mythical Medusa, his twisted tail hanging limply and his face frozen in eternal terror.

The trajectory of the holy sword's fall left a burning golden line in the air.

As Fulgrim's head flew off, his lips still retained the shape of the last syllable.

The head spun in the air, and the light golden blood drew an elegant arc before finally falling to the ground and rolling to Ferrus' feet.

The body of the Fallen Primarch slowly knelt, then fell forward, splashing a cloud of dust.

The bridge fell into silence.

Ferrus stared down at the head at his feet. Fulgrim's eyes were still open, but the purple light within them had gone out.

That face that had once captivated countless worlds was now nothing but empty death.

"it's over……"

Ferrus looked at the head on the ground and pointed his sword at it just in case.

"Gaba!"

The head was split in two, and the flames engulfed the decayed body.

………………

Deep in the Web

Comoros

The spires of Comoros rise high into the sky, like a beacon in the darkness, emitting a heart-pounding, sickly purple light in the eternal night.

These spires are made of twisted metal and are shaped like the fangs of giant beasts, piercing straight into the void, as if to tear the entire world apart.

The city was a symbol of suffering and degradation, its every stone and steel beam drenched in the sins and evil of the Dark Eldar.

In this eternal city, the Dark Eldar nobles enjoyed their carnival to the fullest, endlessly and tirelessly.

However, they didn't know that there was a pair of eyes watching them silently.

These eyes burned with pale flames, like evil spirits from hell. They hid in every shadow. Their presence could be felt at the edge of flickering lights, in the cracks of buildings, or in dark corners that were ignored by people.

Corax, this name has become synonymous with fear.

He was no longer an entity, but had become fear itself.

He was like a ghost, silently moving through the streets and alleys of Comoros, making every dark elf feel his presence, but unable to capture his figure.

"Mr. Archon, the energy readings in the third slave area are fluctuating." One of the Archon's guards stood in front of the communicator, head lowered, and reported the situation to Archon Valaxis in a somewhat nervous tone.

Vlaxis was leaning lazily on a gorgeous sofa, waving his right hand casually, as if he didn't care about the news.

He was holding a wine glass at his fingertips, which was filled with blood drawn directly from the slaves' veins. The bright red color was particularly dazzling under the light.

"It may be a fluctuation in the webway, don't worry about it." Vraxis said casually, his voice was a little unclear in the communicator, and he seemed a little drunk.

However, as he spoke, he did not notice that in the shadows behind him, a pair of pale burning eyes were slowly opening.

There was a strange light in those eyes, staring straight at everything here.

The first to disappear were the guards in charge of the slave quarters.

They were whipping prisoners one second and suddenly froze in place the next.

Darkness surged from their eye sockets and mouths like a tide, devouring their flesh and blood.

The prisoners watched in horror as the guard's armor clanged to the ground, leaving nothing inside, as if no one had ever been there.

There was no screaming, no resistance, not even a trace of struggle.

Comoros' surveillance system could not capture any images of intruders, only the occasional flash of blurry black shadows, like noise caused by signal interference.

"Check everywhere!" High Archon Drux roared in the communication network, "There must be an intruder!"

As soon as he gave the order, a strange rustling sound came from the communicator, followed by complete silence.

Drux turned around suddenly and found that all the servants in the room were still, but their shadows were twisting, leaving the ground like living things and wrapping around their bodies.

“No…” Drux squeezed out a syllable from his throat, and then his vision was completely swallowed by darkness.

Corax moves in the shadows, his presence transcending physical form.

As a witch warrior was alert and focused on her surroundings, she was unaware that Corax was staring at her from her own shadow.

The shadow seemed to have life, wriggling quietly and devouring the witch warrior bit by bit.

Before the witch warrior could react, she suddenly felt a powerful force dragging her into the darkness. Her screams echoed in the darkness but were soon drowned out by the endless darkness.

Meanwhile, the Haemonchi were arguing fiercely, their voices echoing in the empty corridor.

However, none of them noticed that Corax's breath was gently brushing the back of their necks, bringing a chill.

The breathing was so gentle that they were completely unaware of its presence.

On the other side, the most elite Mandrag killer squad was ordered to search the area.

They are well-trained, act quickly, and leave no corner untouched.

However, they did not realize that the target they were looking for, Corax, was following them like a ghost, only three steps away from them.

"This is impossible!" Captain Mandrag roared, his voice echoing in the corridor, "Even the devil will leave traces!" Sweat was constantly oozing out from under his mask, and his heart was filled with fear and doubt.

Suddenly, his adjutant's body froze as if he was fixed by something.

Then, black mist emerged from the eye sockets of the mask. The mist seemed to have life and spread rapidly.

"Captain..." The adjutant's voice became distorted and strange, "It's... among us..."

Before he could finish his words, the entire team disappeared into the corridor in an instant, like a pencil drawing erased by an invisible hand.

Only their weapons and armor were left scattered on the ground, making crisp sounds, which seemed particularly abrupt in the silent corridor.

Corax was in no rush to destroy the entire city.

Like the most patient hunter, he eroded Comoros' defenses bit by bit.

Every attack was precise and deadly, and every massacre was silent.

The senses and technology that the Dark Eldar were so proud of were useless in front of him.

In the shadow of the tallest spire, Corax gazed upon the chaotic city below.

His form sometimes condensed into a human figure covered with crow feathers, and sometimes dispersed into countless tiny dark particles.

"Fear..." His voice was like thousands of steel needles piercing reality, "It takes time to ferment."

The rulers of the Comoros began to go crazy. They ordered all lights to be turned on, but found that the darkness became even darker.

They sent out their most elite troops, but only found empty equipment; they even slaughtered tens of millions of slaves just to force the target out, but only got a contemptuous sneer from the shadows.

Corax was not in a hurry. He was just a member of the advance team. The entire empire was gathering deep into the Webway, and a huge battle was about to begin.

Millions of Space Marines, Space Marine Legions led by eight Primarchs, all Jedi Knights, seventy percent of the clones, Stormtrooper Legions, tens of thousands of Star Destroyers, and millions of logistical forces are making final preparations.