Chapter 184: The Iron Fist of Paternal Love

Initially, the face of the Demon Primordial showed surprise, then shock, followed by wavering. Magnus caught sight of that figure filled with countless miracles and radiance, and the Demon Primordial couldn't help but step back twice.

Under the escort of countless imperial guards, the Emperor's glory spread across the sky.

Machines roared, and flags soared high. The holy power of the Emperor, supreme and unparalleled, enveloped the entire battlefield. Golden fighter jets dived across the landscape, causing the cunning demons to fall one by one. The towering imperial guards were spirited and powerful, facing nothing but a one-sided slaughter.

And there were the Silent Sisters, the natural nemesis of the Thousand Sons sorcerers. With their presence, the magic of the Thousand Sons proved futile, dissipating before even touching the Sisters.

The imperial guards, like bolts of yellow lightning, charged into the ranks of the Red Warriors. Each of their strikes was like ancient war gods descending upon the world, mercilessly reaping the heads of the rebellious legions.

Only the Emperor gestured for everyone to clear the way. The Lord of Humanity's face was indifferent, tinged with a frustration born from unmet expectations. "Magnus?"

The Red Son at this moment was no longer as the Emperor remembered.

In the Emperor's memory, the last time he saw Magnus, the Primarch of the 15th Legion was clad in golden armor, wielding a long sword, adorned with feathers and dazzling patterns, always looking at him with an inquisitive gaze, like a studious child.

Magnus's foolish actions had ruined everything. If not for him, the Emperor would have completed the Webway Project, and the Imperial Guard wouldn't have been battling demons in the Webway for ten thousand years, dwindling from ten thousand to a thousand men.

If not for him, the Emperor wouldn't have been so weakened in the fight against Horus, resulting in severe injuries and a ten thousand-year confinement to the Golden Throne.

"Father? Emperor? The Corpse God seated on the Golden Throne?" Shockingly, Magnus only wavered slightly before erupting in greater fury. "You're alive? After all the foolish things you've done, you're still alive? Why weren't you killed by Horus?"

Every venomous word from Magnus crystallized, falling onto the lunar surface.

This frenzied speech enraged the entire human army on the battlefield. Many imperial guards glared hatefully at the Demon Primordial, ready to tear Magnus to shreds at the Emperor's command.

Yet, amid the imperial guards, Silent Sisters, Space Marines, Mechanicus forces, and Dreadnoughts, the Emperor raised his hand, signaling everyone to leave Magnus alone for now and focus on his army first.

"A height of five meters, large horns, wings on the back, and powerful sorcery—a demon world, this is what Tzeentch rewarded you with." The Emperor's face was as cold as ancient ice. He didn't seem furious, but rather exuded a sense of disappointed lament. "But even Tzeentch can't help you now. Look at what's left of your children."

Roboute Guilliman, the Primarch of the 13th Legion, was fighting valiantly on the front lines. His massive sword fell, and empty helmets dropped on the lunar surface, drifting aimlessly. Except for their shattered power armor, the Red Warriors had nothing left, their armors empty inside.

Embracing chaos led to mutation. The corruption of Chaos twisted the souls and bodies of the once noble Space Marines, turning them into mere husks—bodies turned to dust, souls eternally imprisoned in their armors, manipulated like puppets.

Raising his staff, Magnus, the Demon Primordial, was filled with unparalleled rage. One of his eyes seemed to burn with hatred, while the other fixed steadily on the calm Emperor. He felt his blood boiling, speaking rapidly and urgently, like a rapid-fire cannon: "How can you be so calm? Tell me, Father, how can you be so indifferent? You led my children to destruction, you declared our rebellion!"

"What would you have me do? What could I do? Watch my legion perish in mutation? Be captured as traitors?"

The Emperor, holding his flaming sword, shook his head indifferently: "Your folly has led to this end, Magnus."

"No! It's not my folly, but yours!" Magnus loudly retorted, the Demon Primordial like a rabid dog: "I admit, my immature attempt to communicate ruined your plan, but I did it for you, Great Emperor, Lord of Humanity! You ignored my warnings, and what did you do?!"

"You let your hound and his offspring come to my world to capture me, yes, I was wrong, I admit it. I disabled the defenses, moved the fleet, I accepted your judgment. But ask Russ, ask his sons, what did they do?"

"Massacre! A complete massacre! Russ and his troops slaughtered my homeworld, every Thousand Sons warrior they saw, every living thing!"

"Why, Father? Why? I had already given up resistance, accepted your judgment. Why did you still command Russ to do so? Aren't we all your children? Why?!"

Hearing Magnus's accusation, Roboute Guilliman sighed, his face filled with sorrow. Half of his brothers had rebelled, each with their own reasons.

Despite these thoughts, Guilliman's actions didn't stop—he cut down dozens more Chaos Space Marines.

Eradicating evil, no traitor would escape today.

"...Russ was deceived. Under Tzeentch's trickery, he was blinded, thinking you had completely fallen." The Emperor spoke coldly, causing Magnus to despair. The Lord of Humanity's face showed no regret. Instead, he calmly examined Magnus's demonic form: "Look at yourself now, Magnus. Do you think you have the right to say these things?"

Fury and madness surged in Magnus. He roared furiously, the hate in his eye unbound. The five-meter-tall Demon Primordial spread his wings, soaring over the battlefield, charging directly at the Emperor.

On the moon, the Thousand Sons were retreating. With the Emperor and Guilliman, the human army was too formidable. The traitors were butchered one by one, turned to debris.

Magnus seemed oblivious to all this, consumed by rage and forgetting everything. He raised his staff, directing it at the supreme figure, with molten lava erupting from the Emperor's feet and the flames of the warp covering the Emperor's towering form.

But the corrupt energy couldn't harm the Emperor in the slightest. With a mere thought, the Lord of Humanity shattered all of Magnus's efforts.

"Father! You owe me an answer, I need an explanation! Why? Why!!!" Magnus charged straight at the Emperor, raising the Staff of Change, voicing his son's fury.

The beastly figure thundered through the skies, the Demon Primordial's staff moving unbelievably fast, its tip nearly instantly in front of the Emperor.

The Emperor stepped back, gracefully avoiding the strike, leaving only a trail of sorcerous energy and sparks in the cold void.

"Do you want an explanation, Magnus?" The Emperor finally looked up, his brows furrowed, his left hand holding his sword, his right clenched into a fist, devoid of emotion: "Don't rush, here it comes."

The stars trembled, the ground shook, and an unmatched power gathered in the Emperor's right fist. Multicolored lights surrounded him, then transformed into a massive golden force.

No one could describe the power of this punch. In the blinding white light, the Emperor's fist, like a cannonball, crossed the lunar void and struck Magnus's crimson face with thunderous force.

The entire lunar surface vibrated under the power of the Lord of Humanity.

"Boom!" Magnus's face caved in, the Demon Primordial unable to even scream. His red skin rolled in waves, his mouth spitting out two bloodied teeth.

"Ah! Aah!" The Demon Primordial was sent flying, rolling several times on the moon's barren surface. But the Emperor gave his betraying son no respite. His sword opened Magnus's chest, his iron fist leaving lethal wounds with each strike.

"Oh! Ahh!" Only Magnus's screams echoed on the battlefield.

"Presumptuous." The Emperor's sword pierced Magnus's chest.

"Self-doomed." His iron fist again smashed Magnus's face, twisting his nose. The blood formed strange mushroom shapes on the barren lunar surface.

"Underestimating oneself." The Emperor's psychic powers burned Magnus's soul, his wails unceasing.

The battlefield was cleansed of demons and Chaos Space Marines, leaving a one-sided beating. Magnus was powerless before his father.

Punch after punch, sword thrust after sword thrust, Magnus's face was a wreck, his armor shattered by the Emperor's wrath, the fury of a father engulfing the lunar surface and every human heart.

This was the anger of the Lord of Humanity, his iron-fisted wrath for Magnus's failure to meet expectations.

Beaten and bloody, Magnus finally lost the strength to resist. He collapsed in the distance, barely creating a gap between himself and his father. His swollen and bruised face, twisted nose, and flowing blood all testified to his beating. The Emperor didn't pursue further; instead, the reborn father raised his fist.

His mood seemed to improve: "Magnus, is there anything else you wish to say?"

Surrounded by the human army, Magnus's sorcerers already turned to dust under Guilliman's rage. Now, utterly alone, the Demon Primordial suddenly laughed, casting a curse at the Emperor: "Father, you think you've won? My omnipotent father, haven't you noticed? An unprecedentedly vast fleet is approaching here."

What? Guilliman widened his eyes, but the Emperor signaled everyone to calm down. The Lord of Humanity nodded: "Yes, Magnus, still hoping someone will rescue you? Who are you waiting for? Abaddon?"

Then, the Emperor raised his hand.

In the warp, a massive storm was unleashed at the will of the Lord of Humanity, engulfing the entire Chaos fleet approaching Holy Terra, grinding it to dust.

The Emperor's wrath engulfed the galaxy.

"Now, no one will save you." The Emperor raised his flaming sword.

"You're next."

Atop the stars, in the golden light, on a massive Imperial battleship, the Emperor and Guilliman stood facing each other. On one side of the ship, Magnus's soul and energy were trapped in a device made of black material and countless cables. It was clear the Demon Primordial was unwilling to accept his fate, but he was powerless to change it.

Mechanicus Archmagos Cawl approached: "My liege, the technology you've brought back is stable and performed excellently in tests. I believe it warrants further development."

The Emperor nodded. Guilliman seemed to see a smile on his father's face: "Father, what is this?"

"This is an ancient artifact for imprisoning star gods." The Emperor casually replied: "As it seems, this is a very practical technology. Perhaps with Cawl's improvements, it can serve a greater purpose."

Guilliman, not well-versed in technology, didn't dwell on it. He looked concernedly at Magnus's struggling form: "Can Magnus really be restored to his former self?"

"Yes, we've already done it with Angron. After his restoration, he seems to live happily with your brother... fortunately, he still remembers he's a warrior." The Emperor's voice carried an indescribable tone: "Trust me, Guilliman, one day, your brothers... as long as they live, will reunite."

"I look forward to that day, Father." Hope shone in Guilliman's eyes: "What should we do next?"

"You will once again be the Regent of the Imperium, my son." The Emperor glanced at Guilliman: "I will stay in Terra to complete my unfinished invention."

"Father, you mean... the Webway?"

"Yes. The ancient tech shows how to maintain the Webway isolated from the warp. Even after millions of years, their technology is still ahead of ours. I will continue my unfinished project. But don't worry, Guilliman, you can seek my help in the Throne Room anytime. When necessary, I'll leave the palace to support you. I no longer need to sit on the Golden Throne, especially with this one here."

Their gaze turned to Magnus. Archmagos Cawl suddenly felt their glares were ominous.

"The priority is to send Magnus to your brother for purification."

"After everything is done, would you like to accompany me on a journey, Guilliman?"

"Of course, Father."

Abaddon: My fleet? It was just there, such a large group. Where did it go?

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