Warhammer [576-578] (Patreon)

Chapter 576: The Wolf King Dragged Back to Holy Terra, and Guilliman's Little Secret

"Master, you were gone a total of 35 days," Tartarus said.

During that time, he had strictly followed his master's orders, constantly observing the planet's condition. For 10 of those days, the master appeared to be endlessly falling from the planet's sky, like a frozen frame slowly moving.

In the next 10 days, the master negotiated with the Space Wolves on the planet. After that, he spent another 10 days bringing them back up to the planet's orbit.

This planet is truly terrifying, possessing an absolute temporal power. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, Tartarus would have thought this peculiar world beneath him was a black hole.

The situation was almost identical to theoretical predictions after entering a black hole. However, if you truly enter a black hole's event horizon, your time becomes permanently fixed at the second you move forward. From your perspective and that of the outside world, you would both be motionless.

"Thirty-five days? But I spent less than four minutes on that planet—more precisely, three minutes and some seconds. I only spent a minute on the surface; the remaining two minutes were the trip down and up," Rhodes said.

You can imagine how terrifying the time dilation is. If he had tarried any longer, the Emperor might have completed the stripping of the Chaos godhood, and the whole of Holy Terra would already have been swallowed by the Warp!

"Master, the Chaos godhood has been stripped by ninety percent. It should take about one more month.

By then the Emperor will be finished. If you haven't returned by that time, I'll use certain compulsory measures," Tartarus said.

That was the contingency he and his master had agreed on. If anything unexpected occurred, he would forcibly remove Rhodes using his spatial and temporal abilities.

He wouldn't hesitate to destroy this planet if necessary.

"This planet is really strange. Do you think the effect is related to the Tree of Life below? It has immense mass," Rhodes said, gazing at the gigantic green tree on the world below.

The Tree of Life radiated a powerful vitality, constantly releasing life energy. Such a vast life force also made the tree's mass grow without limit.

Huge mass brings gravitational wave effects, and stronger gravity can alter the flow of time.

But if gravity increases like that, Astartes bodies wouldn't withstand it—especially the Primaris Astartes.

They'd be doing well to endure several times normal pressure. Beyond 10 times, their bodies would collapse. Even a Primarch couldn't handle such terrifying pressure.

And with such pressure, the planet itself shouldn't hold together either. So this world is bizarre—too strange to explain with physical phenomena.

"I actually think this is normal, master. We're already within the Warp—this is the Eye of Terror. Chaos worlds are to be expected.

From what I know, Chaos can corrupt entire stars. The Tree of Life on this planet is something crafted by a Warp god-spirit. It doesn't belong to the material universe, so we can't apply conventional physics," Tartarus said.

"Mm! You're right. Let's leave. No matter what, this planet's too dangerous. I don't want to explore it for now," Rhodes said.

Now you know why Aisha didn't want to come here to capture the Wolf King? Whether sending a Daemon Prince or a Greater Daemon, never mind beating the Wolf King—there's no telling how long Leman Russ would be delayed on this world.

And all they'd get is a captured Primarch. To the Four Chaos Gods, a Primarch is just an amusing toy.

Once your power reaches a certain level, what is unimaginable to mortals is a trifling plaything to the Four.

"Master! Maybe we can try another angle—what if you destroy this planet?" Tartarus said, rubbing his chin.

"Destroy the planet? What's the point?" Rhodes asked, puzzled.

"Master, there are about fifty years left until you send me back. You must upgrade the system shop to the highest tier quickly and then redeem me.

Otherwise we can't complete the time loop, and a new timeline will branch. That would create two timelines."

"Don't worry. I'll gather the coins to max the system shop soon.

Once I have enough, I'll upgrade it immediately, then save up to purchase you out," Rhodes said.

He had considered the time loop carefully—the timing still worked.

"This planet beneath our feet contains tremendous life energy, especially that Tree of Life. The life energy it holds surpasses anything I've ever seen. And your system top-up coins are, to put it bluntly, a form of life energy. The Warp demons provide a special macro-life energy.

If you destroy this planet, I think we can harvest at least a hundred million coins—maybe more—saving you several years," Tartarus said.

That was why he suggested destroying the planet: to gain a sea of coins.

"Not a bad idea, but I currently don't have the power to destroy it," Rhodes said.

Besides, if the Tree of Life is that formidable, destroying it would be a waste!

"After you finish stripping the Chaos godhood, you can empower the Alien Empera's essence and Angel Zog's power.

Then the three of you together should be able to smash this planet," Tartarus advised.

By his estimation, once his master absorbed the kaiju augmentations of the Alien Empera and the Angel Zog, the fusion of light and dark would push him to quasi-legendary. His life level would become an ultimate lifeform like Tartarus himself. Destroying a planet would be trivial. Tartarus could do it too—only his destruction wouldn't grant the master any rewards.

"We'll table this. Treat it as a reserve resource. If we truly can't gather enough coins to close the loop, we'll come back," Rhodes said.

Tartarus nodded, then waved open a passage to Holy Terra and left with Rhodes.

Only the silent, peculiar planet remained, its Tree of Life glowing emerald green.

…

On Holy Terra, more than a month had passed since Rhodes's departure. In that time, Jaghatai Khan and Corvus Corax had returned to their legion homeworlds.

They led their armies to declare war on Chaos. With two new Primarchs joining the battlefront, the shadow war's balance tilted once again toward the Imperium.

Overall, Chaos combat power was far inferior. Their high-end strength lagged: no Greater Daemon or Daemon Prince could face multiple Primarchs enhanced by cosmic beasts, and even some enlarged Custodians or Dreadnoughts were too much for them.

The war was one-sided. Even Chaos Champions and Lords who enlarged themselves weren't opponents for the genuine article.

In the Imperial Palace on Holy Terra, the Emperor sensed Rhodes's presence and exhaled in relief—the brat finally returned. If he didn't show up, the Emperor would have had to slow the process.

But slowing it was laborious: the Chaos godhood struggled constantly to escape his control.

If the process dragged on, its power might weaken, and even the Dark King might emerge prematurely.

Fortunately, Rhodes made it back in time.

Upon returning to Holy Terra, Rhodes dumped Leman Russ and some of his Wolf Guard at Guilliman's feet.

Wolf King Leman Russ and a pile of Wolves were thrown down, seeing stars.

"Guilliman, you were right. Your method is best—knock him out and haul him back.

If I used my way, it might have taken a year or two," Rhodes said, clapping his hands.

Before Guilliman could speak, Leman Russ staggered up with a roar and charged Rhodes with a raised fist.

That damned bastard had ambushed him and dropped him in one blow!

Unforgivable!

But Russ's punch struck a ochre barrier. No matter how hard he hit, it wouldn't break.

The bowl-like barrier pinned Russ inside.

The one who acted was Guilliman, using the power of the cosmic beast Black Tortoise to create a giant ward that imprisoned Russ.

Letting Russ fight Rhodes now was sending him to his death.

"Guilliman! You did this, didn't you? You bastard, I knew you had no good intentions!

You split the legions, then played schemes against me—I know it. You want to be Emperor.

When you made that 'Imperium Secundus,' I knew," Leman Russ cursed.

He'd overheard that his beatdown was entirely thanks to Guilliman.

The words "Imperium Secundus" made Guilliman's mouth twitch. The Imperium Secundus was a lasting pain and black mark for him, Sanguinius, and Lion El'Jonson.

The problem: everything about the Imperium Secundus had been erased from records. He hadn't even told Rhodes. How did Russ know?

"Rhodes, Russ's brain might be a bit fried. Spending too long there messed with him. Don't mind his nonsense," Guilliman said awkwardly.

"Quit that act. Your replacement for the Astronomican was xenos tech. It kept our ships from getting lost in the Warp but lured in another pack of predators," Rhodes said.

"You know that too! Wait—you said my beacon lured predators?" Guilliman stiffened.

"Right. Exactly what you're thinking. The Tyranids were attracted by your beacon. Granted, they'd have found the galaxy eventually, but your light showed the way," Rhodes said.

The Imperium Secundus's quasi-Astronomican equivalent was quite useful—just a bit too bright.

"You two think I'm invisible? Guilliman, you're running the Imperium now, right? How are the others?" Russ barked.

"Russ, the Imperium is and always has been ruled by Father. He has awakened from the Golden Throne.

And you haven't been gone a hundred years—you've been gone ten thousand," Guilliman said, taking a deep breath, facing Russ with the truth.

Chapter 577: The Russ–Magnus Feud, and the King of Huskies

The brutal truth froze Leman Russ mid-roar. Ten thousand years? That's what Guilliman said? He'd been gone ten thousand years?

"Impossible! You won't fool me! I set out to find the fruit of the Tree of Life for Father—less than 200 years in total. I haven't been away from my sons that long," Russ protested.

He knew how long he'd been gone. After entering the Eye of Terror, he spent decades to find that life-world, then a little over a hundred years there!

Under 200 years total. How could ten thousand years have passed? He hadn't plunged into the Warp's sea of souls nor been lost there.

Impossible! Ten thousand years? Guilliman was trying to confuse him!

"No need to lie, Russ. That planet has serious issues. Didn't you notice?

Because of the Tree of Life, time on that world flows extremely fast—one minute equals over ten days outside. A hundred years becomes over ten thousand," Rhodes said.

"And who are you? You're not my brother—you're not one of Father's creations," Russ said, eyeing the unfamiliar Rhodes.

This guy was strong.

Though only as tall as a baseline Primaris, he'd floored Russ in one blow—stronger than Horus in his Death God-enhanced state.

Back then, after Horus accepted the Four's gifts, Russ believed he could kill him with the Spear of Russ. From then, he considered himself equal to Horus—even Chaos-empowered.

Unbeknownst to him, Chaos-blessed Horus's power had already approached the Emperor.

"Rhodes is a new-era Primarch. A lot has happened—and he's not the only one. You have to adapt to the new age!

It's been ten thousand years since you left for the Tree of Life. The Imperium has changed utterly.

If you don't believe me, I'll take you to Father and let him tell you himself," Guilliman said.

He knew he couldn't convince the stubborn wolf. Best leave it to Father.

Though the Emperor was at a critical stage stripping the Chaos godhood, he could spare a moment to handle a rash son.

"Don't lie, Guilliman. Father couldn't speak. For centuries he sat on the Throne, slowly dying. Otherwise I wouldn't have set out to find the Tree of Life," Russ said.

After Father ascended the Throne, Russ thought, given his might, he'd recover after some time, then lead the Great Crusade again.

But a hundred years passed—no movement. His life-signs weakened, even signs of decay appeared.

Russ couldn't believe it—his immortal father, the undying Emperor, decaying?

And the decay worsened. According to Rune Priests and some Mechanicus adepts, after the duel with Horus, the Emperor was in a near-death state. The Throne's field sustained him.

Proud Russ couldn't accept it. Two hundred years after the Ascension, he led his Wolves to find the fabled Tree of Life.

He hoped to use the legendary tree to save his father. Before leaving, he joked with his sons: when the Wolf Time came, he would return.

That phrase was meant to keep them from searching for him, because Wolf Time means the end of the world—the final battle.

He feared an accident would keep him from returning to his gene-sons.

It went fairly well—he found the Tree of Life, landed, and held the planet for a little over a hundred years!

Then this random guy showed up, knocked him out, brought him back to Holy Terra, and told him ten thousand years had passed!

"Father doesn't need saving by you. Rhodes has done much these years. Father's body has begun to recover.

We all believe he'll one day rise from the Golden Throne and continue the fight for mankind," Guilliman said.

There had been doubts before, but the Emperor's recovery was tangible—especially since Magnus returned. Hope grew, not despair.

"If it's true, take me to Father. I promise I won't cause trouble," Russ said.

Maybe Guilliman wasn't lying. From his displayed power—and Rhodes's—they could easily obliterate him. Since when could Guilliman bind him with a single move?

Could ten thousand years truly have passed, and he'd become the weakest of all Primarchs?

"Hahaha! I'll let you out. Russ, you'll understand when you see Father. Frankly, you are the weakest among the Primarchs right now," Guilliman said.

Indeed. After fusing with cosmic beasts and awakening their God-Souls, Primarchs now walked the material universe as deities.

Russ snorted, stood, and followed Rhodes and Guilliman down to the lower vaults, where he saw the Emperor stripping a Chaos godhood.

Beside him were unfamiliar figures: one radiating light, one life, one darkness.

On the Throne, the Emperor was gaunt and frail, but no longer corpse-like. He raised a hand, manifesting a diamond crystal into reality.

At his side sat a man Russ found unbelievable: the traitor Magnus.

They glared and snorted at each other. Magnus felt he owed the Primarchs, Father, and the Imperium.

But not this dumb wolf—not the husky. "Husky" was a word Rhodes had taught him.

It meant a brainless, silly canine—tailor-made for Leman Russ.

"You damned traitor—how are you here? Who allowed you into this sacred place?" Russ roared.

"I'm here by Father's order—to help him sit the Golden Throne. Unlike you, dumb wolf, who only ruins things.

You framed me, destroyed my home, slaughtered innocents. Later, you had a chance to kill Horus and end the Heresy, but you softened.

Then you were counter-killed by Horus—what brotherly love! You didn't give me a chance to explain back then. You just killed me," Magnus snarled.

For this dumb wolf alone, Magnus showed no mercy. They were eternal nemeses.

Russ was at a loss. The Burning of Prospero was one of his few stains.

Had he listened and not been so rash, perhaps tragedy could have been avoided and Magnus wouldn't have turned.

But wait—wasn't Magnus a traitor? Why was he back helping Father on the Throne?

"Stupid space husky, here's the truth: Father sent me as an undercover agent to Chaos. He preserved my strongest soul shard.

It was kept by successive Grand Masters of the Grey Knights. Decades ago, I completed the mission.

I returned with vast daemon intel, came back to reality and the Imperium as a Primarch again. You're a joke," Magnus mocked.

Mocking this guy felt so good. For Russ, Magnus never held back.

"You—what did you say?" Russ could hardly believe his ears.

If true—if Magnus was undercover—what did that make Russ? A clown?

"Enough, Magnus. Both of you—less of this. It's all past. I don't blame you, nor Russ.

You are loyal Primarchs of the Imperium now, nothing more," the Emperor sighed.

Honestly, could they let him strip the Chaos godhood in peace?

Rhodes kept creating distractions: purifying Corax, retrieving Jaghatai, now Russ.

Magnus showed guilt to all Primarchs—except Russ. Those two not fighting already showed regard for the Emperor's presence.

If not for that, Magnus would have leapt down to slap Russ flat.

"I understand, Father. I won't stoop to this dumb wolf's level," Magnus huffed, satisfied after a good round of mockery.

Once the stripping finished and the Emperor could leave the Throne for a rest, he'd teach that dumb wolf a lesson with spells.

"Father! Are you alright? What are you doing?" Russ asked.

"As you see, I'm stripping a Chaos god's godhood. Here's the situation… So all Primarchs must return to guard the Imperium. We must not let Chaos thwart our plan," the Emperor explained everything to Russ.

"I understand, Father. Since you summoned me at this crucial time, I won't disappoint you. I will fight for the Imperium again.

I'll return to Fenris, lead my wolves to war, let the wild wolf's name resound across the galaxy, and crush the Imperium's enemies," Russ said.

"I trust you, Russ. Now go. I must focus. Unless it's vital, don't disturb me again, Guilliman," the Emperor said.

Guilliman nodded, and he and Rhodes escorted Russ back up to the upper palace. There, Russ saw an old acquaintance: the deceased Imperial Regent, Malcador.

"Regent Malcador—you're alive? How were you resurrected?" During the Siege of Terra, Malcador had replaced the Emperor on the Throne for less than a day, exhausting his life and soul.

"Welcome back, Russ. I was resurrected because of Rhodes. One of his special creations possesses the Law of Death.

When that law leveled up to the maximum, it could resurrect one person unconditionally. I was chosen," Malcador said.

"I see. Welcome back, Regent," Russ nodded.

"Russ, it's not just Magnus and Malcador. There's someone else you won't expect—or two. Guess who?" Guilliman teased.

"Spit it out. I'm not interested in your word games," Russ snapped.

You took me to Father but didn't tell me about Magnus—just to see me embarrassed? Fine—you got your laugh. Don't expect a friendly face.

"Ahem. Fine, dumb wolf, I'll tell you.

Horus is back too. Like you, he's an Imperial Primarch now.

Also Lion El'Jonson, Sanguinius, Vulkan, Jaghatai Khan, Corvus Corax, Rogal Dorn—all the brothers are back," Guilliman said with a smile.

"What did you say? Horus??"

Chapter 578: Russ's Lycanthropy and the Return to His Pack

The King of Huskies—no, the Wolf King Leman Russ—erupted in fury. Magnus returning as an undercover? He could tolerate that.

At worst, he'd challenge Magnus later to settle the score. Among Fenrisians, a brawl between brothers is normal and even strengthens bonds.

But Horus? What was that about? How could he return? How could he be cleansed?

"Calm down, Russ! Horus was framed by Chaos, he—" Guilliman tried to soothe the bloodmad Wolf King, but Russ cut him off.

"Don't feed me that crap. I don't want to hear it. He's a traitor—the traitor-in-chief who sparked the Heresy!

He put Father on the Golden Throne. Even if Father loves him, he can't forgive him. It's unfair to all of us!

I'm going to Father. Don't stop me."

Guilliman sighed and raised another ward, trapping Russ again. He couldn't be allowed to disturb Father now.

"Calm down and listen, Leman Russ. Right now you can't go anywhere or do anything except hear me out.

If you won't, I'll help you calm down—by locking you up for a few years," Guilliman said, genuinely angry.

This volatile wild wolf—people say you're a civilized man in a beast's skin while Lion is a beast in a civilized man's skin.

Look at your actions.

Father just told you he's doing something crucial for humanity's survival—and you'd bother him over this.

"Horus was the first Primarch to die. When he was carried into that temple, when that Warp-cursed dagger struck him,

his soul died. Chaos and a remnant of his memories were piloting his body. Otherwise, he wouldn't have marched alone on Terra.

If he and you had chosen to grind down the Imperium slowly, the result would have been terrifying.

Father was bound to the Throne—unable to move across the galaxy. Who could stop Horus?

Me? You? Sanguinius? He would have crushed us one by one. You know his strategic genius.

With the Warp at his back, he could have devoured the Imperium in decades, then besieged Terra. Father would have lost.

But with a final ember of loyalty, Horus chose Terra and accepted Father's judgment—dying in that duel," Guilliman said.

Even the Five Hundred Worlds' ice-bound defenses were nothing if Horus had set his mind to kill Guilliman first—bring the traitor Primarchs, press the attack, and the wall would crack.

All Primarchs knew Horus's prowess.

Had he ground forward, with Father on the Throne, there was almost no hope. Framing Magnus was step one of his plan.

"Are you saying Sanguinius died for nothing? Ferrus Manus died for nothing? So many of our gene-sons died for nothing?" Russ raged.

"Sacrifice is the Imperium's foundation. Read our last ten millennia—you'll see the scope of humanity's sacrifice.

The Heresy struck us hard. But what will you do now?

Kill Horus? Plunge the Imperium into worse peril? Start a Leman Russ Heresy?" Guilliman shot back.

"I am the most loyal of Primarchs. I will never betray Father."

"Then Father just explained things to you—and now you'd question him at the most critical moment?

Tell me, Leman Russ: do you still swear fealty to the Imperium and the Emperor?

If not, I will execute you now," Guilliman said, unleashing his full psychic aura. The cosmic beast's presence pressed Russ to breathlessness.

After their upgrades, the Primarchs' power was unfathomable to their old selves—the gap like Custodian versus baseline Primarch.

"And Sanguinius is resurrected. He and Horus have reconciled and fight side-by-side in the shadow war. Who exactly will you avenge?" Guilliman added.

Russ ground his teeth, then sighed and sat silently in the ward.

"Don't play mute. Be a man, Leman Russ!

Stand up—now. The Imperium needs your strength. Your Space Wolves need you," Guilliman said.

"I understand," Russ growled.

No matter how unwilling to accept it—no matter his distaste for Horus—he had to accept.

He had really spent ten thousand years there, missing too much. Even his strength had plummeted, left in Guilliman's dust.

Once he'd dismissed Guilliman like Rogal Dorn—weakest at single combat among Primarchs.

Now Guilliman bound him in one move, suppressed him without lifting a finger.

The gap was hard to accept—and made him curious. How had Guilliman grown so strong?

"I know what you're thinking, Russ. Don't worry—you'll gain this power too. As long as you're loyal to the Imperium and the Emperor, you'll have it.

Rhodes already prepared a fitting cosmic beast for you," Guilliman said, seeing through him at a glance.

"Your strength rose because of these 'cosmic beasts,' right?" Russ asked.

"Not exactly as you think. Cosmic beasts are wondrous lifeforms—even ordinary humans who fuse with them can reach Primarch-level," Guilliman explained in detail.

It had become standard for Primarchs. Rhodes even had Astartes fused with cosmic beasts.

Rhodes smiled and released Wolf Gas. This kaiju had been enhanced to the limit and redeemed long ago.

Wolf Gas, a wolf-shaped monster: 53 meters tall, 42,000 tons—now enhanced to 50,000 tons and 62 meters.

As a cosmic-beast fusion, he became a crimson wild wolf with powerful fire attributes.

On icebound Fenris, fire control would be… interesting.

"Don't resist, Leman Russ. Let my cosmic beast merge with you—he'll be your loyal partner," Rhodes said.

Leman Russ nodded, relaxed, and let the crimson giant wolf enter his body.

A wolf-shaped beast—this new brother was thoughtful, giving him a perfect match.

As Wolf Gas fused with him, Russ's body shuddered and began a new evolution; his psychic talent fully unlocked.

Bones cracked like gunfire; crimson flames burst from his pores.

Wolf Gas—this otherworldly cosmic beast—howled in his genes. Every muscle tore and reknit; every drop of blood boiled.

"AAAH—!" His scream became a sky-splitting howl.

He swelled; his armor melted and reforged in the flames. Guilliman stepped back, shielding himself from the heat.

Rhodes stood firm, eyes gleaming. "He's adapting faster than you lot did. Wolf Gas's power is locking in."

Guilliman nodded. A wolf-beast truly suited Russ—fire matched his temper.

In the flames, a sixty-meter giant silhouette took shape.

Russ's new form was more primal than Guilliman's enlargement—his helm fused into a true wolf's head; nails lengthened to glinting claws; a burning tail sprouted.

When the fusion finished, the giant Russ was awe-inspiring.

He felt his newfound might—unparalleled power.

He could command flame freely; his body was multiplied many times over; his psychic talent, his God-Soul, completely unleashed.

He couldn't believe the strength—so perfect.

As the fire receded, the reborn Russ looked down at his terrifying claws. Power—pure, barbaric power—surged in his veins.

He felt he could tear a Titan barehanded, bite through a cruiser's armor, and stride the void with psychic force.

Alone, he could board a warship and paint it red.

"Awooo!"

His howl rang across Terra's orbit, shattering the palace's armored glass.

His body swelled again in flame; crimson fur covered him; he became a hundred-meter flaming dire-wolf.

Those burning eyes swept the hall—Rhodes and Guilliman involuntarily took half a step back.

Fused, the Wolf King's power was fully liberated. He was stronger than ever.

Russ tried shrinking, returning to a normal Primarch size.

"Guilliman, let's fight again. I think I can punch through your shield now," he grinned.

After gaining power, he couldn't wait to duel. Being beaten by the "weakest" Primarch gnawed at him.

"Let's not. I've been synced with my beast for decades. My strength is beyond your imagination.

You should reunite with your gene-sons. They've waited for their father for ten thousand years," Guilliman said.

He had no desire to spar. Win or lose, it'd be awkward.

"Your pack awaits you. One little wolf has waited a full ten thousand years and is now the oldest of the pack.

To see you again, he entered a Dreadnought ten millennia ago and wakes only once every thousand years," Rhodes said.

If Rhodes hadn't rebuilt him as a super-beast, Bjorn would still be entombed.

Russ nodded. He didn't challenge Guilliman again, but led his Wolves to the palace halls where Bjorn had long waited.

When Russ left Fenris, Bjorn was the youngest wolf, entrusted with the Chapter Master's mantle. For Russ, less than 200 years had passed; for Bjorn, ten thousand.

My wolf pups—your wolf-father is back.

"Gotta say, Guilliman, you handled Russ well," Rhodes said after Russ departed.

It's no small feat to shut the Wolf King up with words.

"Haha, I am the smartest of the Primarchs, after all."