Warhammer [558-560] (Patreon)

Chapter 558: Three Furious Giants Beat Lorgar

"These years, we've really missed you, Lorgar," said Lion El'Jonson.

"Missed everything you did to the Imperium. Missed everything you did to us," said Horus.

It was this bastard—him and his damned son Erebus—who set him up.

That bastard Erebus was still gallivanting around the galaxy, not yet found. Once Horus caught him, he wanted to shove Erebus's head up his own rear and then yank it back out through his stomach.

Everything—every betrayal—started with that prick named Erebus. And that prick is your son, Lorgar!

"You drove a wedge between me and Horus. Lorgar, we trusted you so much back then," said Sanguinius.

"Don't you want to chat with your big brother? Lorgar? Come on, tell me—how have you been living in the realms of Chaos all these years?" The Lion slung his white soulblade over his shoulder, grinning savagely at Lorgar.

Beads of cold sweat trickled down Lorgar's forehead.
I'm dead, I'm dead—this time I'm really dead!
He couldn't beat any one of the four of them, let alone all four together. His combat power was among the weakest of the Primarchs—maybe he could only beat Omegon at best.

He might be a Daemon Prince now, but these Primarchs had been empowered by cosmic beasts and were stronger than ever.
The problem was, even without the buffs, any one of these four could hang him up and beat him bloody.

What the hell are you lot doing? Shouldn't the four of you be ganging up on Fulgrim?
Why bully me? I'm just a small fry!

"Nobody steal my kill. He's mine," said Horus.

Of everyone here, his grudge with Lorgar was the deepest. This time, he'd teach the bastard a proper lesson.

"That won't do, Horus. He wronged you, sure, but he wronged us too. I was indirectly stuck in the Rock for ten thousand years because of him," said the Lion.

"I even got killed by Horus! Lorgar's mine—I'll defeat him myself and drag him before Father," said Sanguinius.

"I don't care. I'll take last swing," Vulkan shrugged helplessly.

At this point, he almost felt sorry for Lorgar. Getting targeted by the three most formidable Primarchs? Rough luck.

Lorgar's expression grew panicked. He backed away, swallowing hard. How was he supposed to fight this? How the hell was he supposed to fight this?!
Fulgrim, where the hell are you now? Get over here and save me. If you don't come, I'm done for!

Unfortunately, Fulgrim had no intention of saving him. The Alien Empera was busy entertaining him.

Sanguinius, Horus, and the Lion argued incessantly over who got to deal with Lorgar.

None of them wanted to give up this once-in-a-lifetime chance—this perfect opportunity to beat Lorgar senseless.

"Hurry up, you three. Otherwise, why don't you all go together?" Vulkan suggested.

He felt they wouldn't reach a conclusion anytime soon—they were all too domineering to yield the right to solo Lorgar.

"No. Trash like him isn't worth the three of us moving at once," the three said almost in unison.

"Damn you, don't humiliate me! Come on then—think I'm afraid of you? I never owed that old man anything. I even treated him as my god. I wasn't wrong," Lorgar roared, mustering courage.

"Sure, you weren't wrong—that's why you're still alive. We're discussing how to thank you, not how to kill you," Sanguinius said dryly.

"But Father never harmed a single soul in Monarchia! When Guilliman destroyed the city, did he kill even one of your gene-sons?
And before that, Father warned you repeatedly. What he wanted wasn't missionary work; he wanted you to carry out the Great Crusade," Horus said.

He remembered Monarchia clearly. If the Emperor had truly run out of patience with Lorgar, it wouldn't have been Guilliman who came—it would have been Russ or the Dark Angels.

And if either of those two had come, Monarchia wouldn't have just been demolished—every soul on that planet would have died.

"No more talk. You three come at once. Think I'm afraid?" Lorgar said.

Some of the Chaos Astartes behind Lorgar looked at him with a kind of shocked admiration.

What a madman. Facing these guys and still putting on a big-man act?

Any one of them could rip a Greater Daemon apart barehanded. You really don't know the meaning of the word "death," do you?

What rotten luck! Why did we have to bump into this? We're here for a lightning raid, not to draw the main force.

At this moment, Lucius had become the backbone for the Chaos Marines present. Aside from a certain fallen Primarch, he was the strongest here.

Seeing everyone's eyes on him, Lucius smiled, drew his runed daemonblade, and strode decisively to stand in front of Lorgar.

It looked like he meant to face the Primarchs alongside Lorgar. The sight greatly encouraged the other Chaos Marines. Lucius had once been a chosen champion, and supposedly served the Prince of Excess's scion. He shouldn't be weak—maybe he could lead them in cutting a bloody path out.

Even a Primarch could be swarmed by enough bodies.

No one expected what happened next: Lucius's move left every Chaos Marine slack-jawed.

Lucius swung his purple daemonblade and drove it straight into Lorgar's kidney without hesitation.

Lorgar didn't even react at first, staring in disbelief at the blade that had punched through him. He turned his head, shocked, to look at Lucius.

"You—you—why?" Lorgar asked, incredulous.

Why stab me?

"Sorry. Orders from my new master. And my task is complete," Lucius grinned.

"You! You dare betray Fulgrim!" Lorgar snarled.

"Don't misunderstand. I never truly acknowledged that guy. I never intended to obey him. I've only ever followed one person's will. I've never betrayed anyone," Lucius said.

Goddess Aisha was the one he served.
That's all.

The Primarchs were surprised. Lucius's reputation wasn't good, yet Rhodes had somehow brought him to heel. Though a man like that really ought to be purged.

"My task is done, gentlemen. Do as you like," Lucius pulled out his purple blade, wiped the blood, and prepared to leave.

Sanguinius very much wanted to take up his blade and cleave down the Chaos traitor, but Horus at his side stopped him.

Lucius's deeds were vile, but this time he had rendered great service: thanks to his intel, Guilliman had managed to extract the prisoners, and the team here had intercepted Lorgar. Lucius had also spread the word about the avatar.

He was Rhodes's subordinate now. They had no standing to intervene.

Everyone watched Lucius leave. No one dared stop him.

Once the others were gone, Sanguinius snorted, flashed to the wounded Lorgar, and kicked him in the face.

"Hey, hey, Sanguinius, that's cheating! We still haven't decided who gets to deal with him," Horus protested.

The Lion snorted and charged in too, his massive fist thundering into Lorgar's face.

"Fine. Count me in—I'm not missing out," Horus shrugged and joined the beatdown.

"Ugh! Ugh! Aaaah! Oh! Oh!" came the wretched screams.
The three hulking brutes laid into Lorgar. The poor bastard started doubting life itself as sandbag-sized fists and gigantic boots landed on his face again and again.

Lorgar's screams echoed over the battlefield, while the Primarchs' blows fell like a torrential downpour.

Vulkan stood off to the side, arms folded, shaking his head. "Go easier. Don't actually kill him. Father's waiting to see him."

"Relax, I know my limits," Sanguinius said as he punted Lorgar in the gut again, sending him skidding dozens of meters.

Lorgar rolled, staggered to his feet, blood at his lips, eyes full of terror and rage.

"You… you… bastards…" he ground out, trying to summon his Chaotic power to counterattack.

His power had barely formed when the Lion's heavy punch shattered it.

"Give it a rest, Lorgar," the Lion sneered. "You think that little bit of Chaos power can stand against us? When you betrayed the Imperium, you should have known this day would come."

Horus stepped forward, seized Lorgar by the collar, and hauled him up. "Tell me—where is Erebus? If you talk, maybe I'll let you suffer less."

Lorgar bared blood-streaked teeth in a grimace. "Heh… You think I'll tell you? That wretch… has nothing to do with me anymore! You'll never find him!"

"Tough guy, huh?" Sanguinius' eyes went cold. He slapped Lorgar so hard teeth flew.

You bastards—at least let me pass out first!

Chapter 559: The Mission to Capture Erebus; Prisoners Lorgar and Fulgrim

Lorgar's vision was a blur, ears ringing. Blood dripped from his brow and mouth. He had never imagined that he—a proud Daemon Prince—would be pinned and pummeled by his former brothers like a cur.

"Enough… enough!" Lorgar suddenly burst into manic laughter. Chaotic energy surged within him, purple helllight glimmering beneath his skin.

"Oh? Finally going all out?" The Lion tightened his grip on his blade, smiling coldly.

"You really think… I'm just trash?!" Lorgar raised his head. His eyes were fully consumed by Chaos, turned into twin purple fireballs. His body swelled; muscles warped and twisted; bony spines tore from his back; blasphemous runes crawled over his skin.

"The power Chaos grants me… exceeds your imagination!" His voice deepened and rasped like a thousand daemons whispering.

Fulgrim had gifted him this new power—far stronger than before.

"Heh. Now it's a bit interesting," Horus cracked his knuckles. "That's more like it. Beating a sandbag is boring."

He was mildly curious whether Lorgar had actually grown stronger.

The other Primarchs watched Lorgar's performance with amused smiles.

"Hahaha! Behold—Chaos's benediction!" Lorgar cackled, flickering like a wraith to appear before Sanguinius, driving a punch at his chest.

Awkwardly, a golden flame blossomed on Sanguinius's chest. The Chaos-laced blow did nothing; the flame even seared Lorgar's fist.

"That's it? Is that all you've got, Lorgar? I thought this would be fun.
So it turns out Fulgrim just gave you a bit of Chaos power—to make you slightly stronger?" Sanguinius smirked. He'd barely tapped his cosmic-eidolon energy; Lorgar couldn't even break his guard.

Horus looked disappointed too. Pale-scarlet light radiated from him as he invoked Daram, the giant of light.

Bathed in that radiance, Lorgar screamed like a stuck pig. Why? Why wasn't this mighty power doing anything to those three?

This can't be real. I must be dreaming!

The Lion rushed in and flattened the Chaos-empowered Lorgar with a single colossal slap.

He'd hoped the kid had improved. Turned out it was just parlor tricks.

The three Primarchs pinned Lorgar again and resumed the merciless beating.

So you think joining Chaos means we can't touch you? You think Fulgrim's gift is impressive? Try cosmic beasts—now we've awakened god-power.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Lorgar stopped resisting, beaten into existential doubt.

"That's enough, you three!" Vulkan finally stepped in, halting the pummeling.

"If you keep going, he really will die. We need to take him back and let Father judge him."

Another few blows and they'd kill him.

The Lion drew back his fist with a snort. "Letting him off easy."

Sanguinius: "I wasn't done!"

What a shame—it had been a perfect, compliant sandbag.

"Enough for now. We still have to ship him home, then put him and Mortarion on the scaffold together and execute them in front of the Imperium," Vulkan said.

To be fair, Lorgar was a bit pitiful. The Emperor had officially labeled him a treasonous clone—demoted from the original to an impersonator, his identity replaced by another clone.

Mortarion would at least be executed as a gene-progenitor; Lorgar would likely die as a traitor-clone.

But he'd brought it entirely on himself.

"That's that," Horus sighed.

While they were beating Lorgar, they'd also taken care of the surrounding Chaos Marines.

Like dragging a dead dog, the three Primarchs grabbed Lorgar by one leg and hauled him away.

"Right—we still need to pry Erebus's location out of him. That bastard must be punished," Horus said.

Of all people, Erebus had to be the one he personally tore apart—shred him to bits, flatten him into a patty, grind him into paste underfoot.
Only then would Horus's rage be sated.

"Maybe let Rhodes see if he can rummage the answer out of Lorgar's head," Sanguinius said.

They weren't likely to get Erebus's whereabouts from Lorgar directly. They'd have to ask Rhodes.

He remembered Rhodes's subordinate Tartalos had the power to read memories through the eyes.

"Good idea. Rhodes will have a way. Erebus must pay—he's the one man we absolutely can't let go," Sanguinius said.

Who would've thought the true culprit for the Imperium's plight was that bastard?

He'd been rotten to the core since birth.

"If you want Erebus, I can help," said Lucius, reappearing before the four Primarchs.

"For Rhodes's sake, we won't kill you. But don't show yourself before us again—or I'll be unable to resist purifying you," Sanguinius snapped.

"Lord Rhodes sent me to tell you this. If you don't care to know, I'll keep it to myself," Lucius said.

Who would willingly face a pack of Primarchs? If not for orders from his new master, he wouldn't be here. Didn't they see Lorgar had been beaten into a lump?
Brutal.

"You know where Erebus is?" Horus asked.

Unlike some of his brothers, he wasn't excessively hostile toward Chaos Astartes. If they truly repented, they deserved a chance—after all, who had erred worse than him?
If he could be forgiven and given a chance to change, others could too—barring those who had willingly embraced Chaos.

"Lorgar's been holed up in his fortress for ten thousand years. He hardly leaves, and he hasn't been leading his Legion.

His Word Bearers have split—some formed their own warbands, others joined Abaddon.

So he really doesn't know where Erebus is. If you want Erebus, I'll have to act. I'll drag him out," Lucius said.

"Good. Lucius, here's your chance to atone. Capture Erebus alive, bring him before us, and you'll receive Primarch-grade stock," Sanguinius said.

"No need. I'm going now," Lucius turned to leave.

He didn't care for Primarch genetics. He didn't put these people in his eyes. He served only his master and former master.

Goddess Aisha and Lord Rhodes were his loyalties.

After parting with the Primarchs, Lucius immediately contacted Rhodes.

"Lord Rhodes, as ordered, I've met with the Primarchs. I'll depart now to find Erebus and take him alive," Lucius said.

"Good, Lucius. No rush. I'll upgrade you first—then you can grab Erebus," Rhodes replied.

This mission hinged on Lucius—Rhodes wouldn't stint on rewards.

"You're generous, Lord Rhodes. But I'd rather receive the reward after I've caught Erebus," Lucius said.

"Then I promise—bring Erebus in, and I'll give you a cosmic beast to fuse with. You'll become top-tier in the real universe," Rhodes said.

"Much obliged, Lord Rhodes. Wait for my good news," said Lucius.

…

On another front, after a fierce battle in space, Fulgrim was finally defeated—pinned by the Alien Empera, his throat gripped and his body slammed down to a planet's surface.

To prevent escape, the Dark-Emperor bound him with black energy.

Fulgrim had a shard of Chaos godhead, but it wasn't fully fused, and his body couldn't yet bear it—so he could still be restrained.

"Damn it! How—how could the likes of you capture me?" Fulgrim roared.

He couldn't accept defeat—such a crushing defeat. He'd arrived brimming with confidence, only to fall into a trap. The Emperor's avatar he feared had not even intervened.

At Rhodes's side, Tartalos unleashed golden power to further bind Fulgrim.

A white figure also appeared—Angel Zog—adding her power.

The war on Vigilus ended in a total Imperial victory, with two Daemon-Primarchs captured.

Chapter 560: Handling the Chaos Godhead; The Emperor's Trust

"Rhodes, I never expected our plan to succeed. I also never imagined my son would one day be eligible to inherit Chaotic divinity. Seems those four aren't truly immortal.

Their godheads persist, but their wills don't—and the godheads can even choose a new host," the Emperor said.

Fulgrim and the captured Lorgar had been brought to Holy Terra. Rhodes left the rest of Vigilus's cleanup to other Primarchs.

He could play the hands-off overseer—Abaddon, within Chaos, was one of his.

With the Lion, Sanguinius, and Horus together, the Chaos forces on Vigilus would be easily handled.

"I didn't expect Chaos godheads to switch hosts either. That's a major discovery, Father," said Magnus, standing beside the Emperor.

Since returning, Magnus had stayed on Terra, helping relieve the Golden Throne's burden so the Emperor could recover better.

"You told me before that a Chaos godhead chose a new host. I could scarcely believe it—yet here we are," the Emperor said.

He thought of himself—would the Dark King within him depart to seek a new host because it could never be born?
Would it choose one of his sons—or Rhodes?
This had to be handled, or there would be trouble.

"Silence, worms! I am a noble god—I am a true god—the Chaos True God! You cannot treat me like this. Release me!"

Fulgrim howled.

Since the day he betrayed the Emperor, he had never imagined he would re-enter the Imperial Palace—on his knees before the Emperor—an unbearable humiliation.

He had dreamt of invading Terra at the head of countless hosts,
standing proudly before the Golden Throne,
declaring: Father, you were wrong—you don't deserve to lead humanity.

Reality slapped him hard. He was a prisoner; the Emperor, the victor.

With half a Chaos godhead, Fulgrim now saw many things more clearly—how terrifyingly strong his father truly was.

He could sense the abyssal power hidden deep within the Emperor's soul—darkness, despair, and death that could shroud the entire universe.

Ridiculous. Father—so you are a god. A true god.

"Shut up, Fulgrim. I have no son like you.
I still remember our first meeting—what you said to me then. You swore fealty—and your speech moved even me.
I was moved enough to name your Legion the Emperor's Children. And this is how you repaid my trust?" the Emperor asked.

"Spare me. The victor is king, the loser, a cur. I only wanted to hear others call me 'Emperor' for once.

I wanted to enjoy the authority you possessed. What's so wrong with that?" Fulgrim replied.

Magnus bristled with anger. He had betrayed because of a tragic misunderstanding, but this bastard wanted to replace the Emperor.

"If you truly had the ability—if you truly had the strength—I would yield the seat to you.

But you don't. You lack what it takes to lead humanity," said the Emperor.

He had chosen heirs among the Primarchs—Horus and Guilliman. In his design, Horus would lead militarily,
and Guilliman would govern. The other Primarchs would assist—and the Imperium would flourish.

After finishing the Webway project, he would retire and rest—only reappearing for existential threats.

But Chaos ruined everything. The Emperor's gaze shifted to Lorgar, the other captive.

When Lorgar founded Monarchia and preached the Emperor as a god, the Emperor had turned a blind eye.

He knew his Imperial Truth, like Guilliman's Codex Astartes, was toilet paper at the end of the day.
He was, in fact, a god.

He hadn't punished Lorgar for deifying him, but for slowing the Crusade.

Other Primarchs took dozens of worlds a year; Lorgar took one or two—sometimes none.
That, the Emperor could not tolerate—hence Monarchia was destroyed. But he did not obliterate Lorgar's cult—otherwise, the Ecclesiarchy would never have existed.

"Father! You finally see me? Tell me—why let a copy—a clone—take my place?" Lorgar demanded.

"I'm done explaining. You are the clone. Remember—you were grown in a vat by my hand. You weren't born naturally," the Emperor said.

Primarchs bore his and Eldar genes, but were special creations—not naturally born humans.

In essence, much like clones—differing only in their souls.

"I refuse to accept this! What did I do wrong?" Lorgar cried.

"I gave you many chances. When I destroyed Monarchia, I did not kill a single one of your citizens. That was my greatest mercy," the Emperor said.

He had erred in some things—too late to change now.
"Face reality, Lorgar. We don't need his pity," Fulgrim muttered.

"Guards, take Lorgar away. Put him in a cell—next door to Mortarion," the Emperor called.

All eyes turned to Fulgrim. He was the real problem.

"Emperor, next we need to extract the Chaos godhead from him. Once it's removed, he's basically dead," Rhodes said.

"Very well. How do we handle the godhead afterward, Rhodes? It's time to decide," said the Emperor.

"After extraction, we'll purify it—strip away the malice—then I'll choose a suitable host," Rhodes said.

"Rhodes. A Chaos godhead can't be purified. It's the crystallization of the universe's most extreme, despairing emotions.

Unless those emotions vanish, cleanse it a thousand times and it will return a thousand times," the Emperor said.

The negative extremities within a godhead could not be cleansed. If they could, the Four would not be what they are.

"I'm confident. Trust me—I already have one success," Rhodes said.

"...One success? Rhodes, what did you do?" the Emperor asked.

"Emperor, I've been with the Imperium for decades, and the Imperium has flourished.

I resurrected all the Primarchs and empowered them further. Will you trust me this once?" Rhodes asked.

The success was Aisha—but he wouldn't reveal that yet. Not the time.
"..."

The Emperor fell silent for a long time. Since the day Rhodes appeared, he had stood firmly with the Imperium and humanity.

The Imperium's strength had multiplied—new gear, new gene-modified troops.

"Very well, Rhodes. I'll trust you unconditionally this once. But be cautious. If it truly cannot be purified, we'll seal it," the Emperor said.

He'd seen enough since Fulgrim's arrival—Chaos godheads couldn't be destroyed. If no proper handling was found, the godhead would simply pick a new host.

And he didn't want some unknown to be chosen. If Rhodes had confidence, let him try.

He trusted Rhodes wouldn't act recklessly—and if something went wrong, Rhodes would fix it immediately.

"Then let's begin the extraction. I'll need your help, Emperor," Rhodes said.