Davin.
Perturabo slowly walked out of the temple.
He uttered not a word, making not a sound.
Heavy footsteps treaded upon the scorched earth of Davin, every step causing the ground to fracture into spiderweb-like fissures.
At the temple entrance, Mortarion remained kneeling on the ground.
He wanted to stand up, wanted to maintain his dignity, his body trembling violently beneath his ragged cloak.
Mortarion's murky eyes were filled with unwillingness and humiliation.
Yet no matter how he struggled, the wild, tempestuous aura radiating from Perturabo suppressed him firmly in place.
He simply could not accomplish the seemingly simple action of standing up.
This caused the Daemon Primarch to feel a deep, profound sense of shame.
This was the Warmaster of Chaos.
Mortarion stared intently at Perturabo's figure, those eyes reflecting a terrifying entity completely beyond imagination.
Perturabo's size was growing increasingly colossal. That pitch-black armor covered his physique like a living thing, making him appear as if he were the very shadow of death itself incarnate.
The aura radiating from his entire body was both terrifying and unfathomably deep; his very existence was enough to evoke the most desperate of synonyms.
And most eye-catching of all were the two weapons Perturabo currently held.
In his left hand, he gripped a divine weapon that Mortarion found incomparably familiar: Worldbreaker.
This warhammer, which had once belonged to Horus, sensed the Warmaster's will once again after ten millennia of silence.
And in his right hand, he held a demon sword famous throughout the galaxy:
Drach'nyen.
This sword originated from humanity's first murder and was a primordial Warp demon in the truest sense.
After Ezekiel Abaddon died in the orbital bombardment, Tzeentch had personally taken action, pulling this demon sword into the Warp and placing it deep within the innermost depths of the Crystal Labyrinth.
Now, this demon sword—which had once posed a massive threat to the Emperor—had returned to the hands of the Chaos faction, reappearing in the mortal realm.
A new Warmaster had been crowned.
Perturabo was indifferent to Mortarion's extreme reaction.
He merely lowered his gaze coldly, looking at his brother kneeling on the ground, his voice low and raspy as if coming from the depths of hell.
"Mortarion, lead me to that entity."
He paused slightly. "I have completed the ultimate ascension. I am now the Warmaster of Chaos."
"This is the realm Horus once reached. Possessing such divine might, no tactics, no schemes can play any role whatsoever. Nothing can stand before me."
Mortarion forcibly suppressed the trembling in his heart.
He raised his head: "Then, I shall summon my fleet now and take you to find that entity—"
"No need."
A voice tinged with laughter sounded.
The voice appeared without any warning—light, casual, carrying a relaxed tone that bordered on idle chatter.
Mortarion whipped his head around.
He hadn't sensed any aura approaching whatsoever. Yet that person had mysteriously appeared beside him just like that.
It was a human wearing traveler's attire, a dark coat fluttering slightly in the turbulent currents of the Warp.
Adam stood where he was, a smile on his face.
He paid no mind to the shocked gaze Mortarion threw his way, merely directing a thoughtful look toward the Warmaster of Chaos.
Perturabo turned his head as well.
His gaze calmly met the enemy he wished to find.
The power of the Four Gods surged within his body, granting him perceptions capable of piercing through all illusions.
He sensed the surrounding air briefly.
It was the real deal.
Even though the waves in the Warp were rising once more, and the roars of Gork and Mork still shook heaven and earth, with that war keeping two alien gods tied down showing no signs of stopping... this entity had nevertheless appeared here as if nothing were amiss, completely unconcerned.
Perturabo was not surprised.
He simply said: "You look exceedingly confident."
Adam smiled, a genuine sense of anticipation present in that smile instead.
He replied: "To be honest, I really hope you don't disappoint me right now."
Pausing, Adam spat out that title word by word:
"...Warmaster."
Facing such words, Perturabo accepted them calmly: "It seems you've realized—the current me is Chaos itself."
He took a step forward, every inch of armor on his colossal body emanating a dark, ominous light.
"The Ancient Four gave me gifts, granting me insight that disregards all else. In the past, I was merely trapped by these comfortable human perspectives, but now... I shall forget them. I am the avatar of Chaos. The power I now possess allows me to become all things."
He paused for a moment, a glint of contemplative light flashing in his fire-burning eyes.
After pondering for a moment, Perturabo still made an effort to find a few words to describe the realm he had currently reached.
"This is not a simple increase in power, but rather [Authority]."
He paused once more.
"I am Chaos."
The moment those words fell, the entire planet of Davin trembled.
A dull roar echoed from deep within the planet's crust, as if this world, which had witnessed the coronation of the first Warmaster, was finally welcoming a true master worthy of its sinister glory once again after ten thousand years.
Perturabo's gaze locked onto Adam.
"This makes me deeply curious—just what kind of backing do you have to challenge me?"
"How interesting."
Adam merely let out a helpless sigh.
He tilted his head, his expression looking like someone watching an opponent pop champagne before even finishing the first half of a match.
"You haven't won yet, have you?"
As his voice fell, he utilized the connection he had established with the Emperor to quickly make an inquiry with the one on the Golden Throne.
Information streams within the Warp transmitted in ways that transcended time; in less than an instant, the answer had been relayed back.
Adam's expression did not change at all; he merely nodded lightly.
In the Warp, another magnificent war was unfolding.
Golden radiance swept across like an overwhelming tide; a massive and endless stream of the Legion of the Damned stepped out from the river of golden light, black flames burning upon their armor, cold golden light glinting in their eyes.
And what they faced was a roaring, infinite, colossal entity.
The Great Devourer.
The tentacles of the Hive Mind were extending from the dark void—a hungry consciousness capable of making the entire Warp tremble.
"Chaos and xenos aligning together?"
Adam pondered it briefly, not feeling particularly surprised by it.
However—"It doesn't matter."
Adam withdrew his gaze, refocusing his attention on the Warmaster of Chaos before him.
"Even if it's just me alone, I'm not powerless against this."
He was omnipotent.
The countless souls harvested in the Tyrannic Wars, the awe gathered from the demons' fear of him in the Warp, the power of faith directed at Adam from the entire Imperium of Man, and the corpses piled up from every formidable enemy he had defeated on his journey—these things together had forged the present Adam.
He was no longer the self he used to be back then.
Adam gazed at Perturabo, this new Warmaster of Chaos.
So this was the power capable of driving the Emperor of ten thousand years ago into a corner.
The desperation he once faced...
I'd like to see what this is all about!
Adam let out a smile.
The Warmaster of Chaos and the Reality Warper raised their heads simultaneously, their eyes meeting.
Their gazes collided in the void; the sheer pressure of their meeting eyes was enough to instantly reduce anything to ash.
The collision occurred.
Consciousness against consciousness, soul against soul, essence against essence.
A majestic vortex exploded open the instant their gazes crossed. Time and space seemed to turn into blown bubbles, layer upon layer of translucent films expanding around their figures, completely enveloping both of them within.
The crust of Davin began to crack, and the perpetual fog shrouding the sky was torn to shreds by an invisible force.
A deafening roar echoed from beneath the planet's crust, as if the world was uttering a gAdam of agony.
Then, the "bubble" burst.
Without any exaggeration, during this brief clash, Davin underwent thirteen destructions and thirteen rebirths.
The crust was upturned and then re-solidified; the atmosphere was blown away and then gathered once more; the temple was reduced to powder and then returned to pristine condition in the very next instant.
Destruction and rebirth played out repeatedly in less than the span of a heartbeat, every single iteration capable of crushing any material entity caught within.
Mortarion was not even qualified to observe the battle.
He didn't even react to what had happened. In the aftermath of that terrifying first clash, the Lord of Death's body was torn into countless fragments, turning into flying ash amidst that violent roar.
And toward this spectator who had met destruction in an instant, neither of the combatants cast the slightest glance of concern.
Adam charged forward, laughing loudly.
Perturabo followed close behind.
They crashed together, countless dimensions unfolding around them simultaneously.
Or rather, Adam realized a wonderful phenomenon was taking place.
At the moment of collision, he discovered he was no longer a single individual.
Across countless dimensions, countless timelines, and countless possibilities, countless Adams were battling against countless Perturabos.
Their figures overlapped, separated from one another, and intertwined again in the next overlap, conducting infinite battles simultaneously across infinite possibilities.
"Good, good, good—"
Adam's eyes widened.
A smile blossomed across his face—this scene allowed the Reality Warper to feel a long-lost excitement.
Truth be told, this was way too interesting!
Perturabo did not smile.
He merely attacked.
In a brief clash within a certain dimension, Perturabo—relying on astonishing martial arts that defied all logic—relentlessly shattered Adam's stance.
Worldbreaker swept out, forcing the opponent to expose an opening at his chest, and Drach'nyen followed immediately after. That pitch-black demon sword cleanly and decisively ran through Adam's chest.
The blade picked upward, splitting the entity's torso in two.
Years—or perhaps some other metaphysical substance—gurgled out from Adam's wound, serving the function of blood.
Facing such a result, Perturabo said nothing.
He simply attacked incessantly.
He knew very well that this was merely an insignificant beginning.
The war continued.
The battle between the two sides unfolded across countless dimensions.
No words could describe the grand scale of this fight.
Chaos—and indeed the essence of the entire Warp—was laid bare without reservation in this battle.
In the Warp, all lies were truth, and all truths were lies. Every concept was both opposite and unified, and all paradoxes held true simultaneously here.
At this moment, Perturabo could effortlessly examine his own inner self.
He saw the sins and mistakes he had committed in the past, every picture crystal clear within his consciousness.
Yet, Perturabo did not hesitate for a second.
He was simultaneously and clearly aware of the absolute necessity of slaying the entity before him.
These two perceptions did not conflict in the slightest, because for the Warmaster of Chaos, both were possible—this was the truth.
He showed no mercy, launching attacks against this entity that did not belong to this universe.
Yes.
At this moment, Perturabo—having already absorbed the power of Chaos and completed his ultimate ascension—could clearly feel the abnormality in this entity.
That abnormal feeling was hard to put into words, akin to oil droplets in water.
Belonging neither to the Warp nor to the physical world, nor to any known dimension, it existed here abruptly.
This power was completely unreasonable.
It seemed to be a direct alteration of existence itself—it happens, and then becomes fact.
Regarding this, Perturabo paid it no mind.
The Lord of Iron continued his assault, spreading out his essence to search for his opponent's flaws across countless dimensions simultaneously.
He began searching for a flaw in his opponent; he believed he would definitely find it, as he always did.
The battlefield shifted away from Davin.
Dimensions shifted once more.
Perturabo found himself inside what appeared to be an ordinary Lunar-class Cruiser. The lighting inside the ship's cabin was dim, and the metal walls lining the corridors were covered in claw marks and bullet holes.
Adam stood where he was, smoke rising from the barrel of the boltgun beside him, having just raised his hand to clear out a group of Genestealers before him.
At this point still a Level 2 Reality Warper, he stood in place with a look of surprise on his face.
Adam was stunned.
He looked at the colossal pitch-black figure that had inexplicably appeared before him from the void, seemingly not yet having reacted to what was happening.
Perturabo gave him no more time.
Worldbreaker was raised high, and he brought the hammer down with immense force.
The hammerhead traced an arc of destruction, sufficient to crush the entire cruiser along with the patch of void it occupied—
His movements froze.
That entity, which appeared impossibly weak, acted in an instant.
This Adam's momentum surged abruptly upward, as if expanding in an instant into an entity that shouldn't exist in this timeline at all.
Immediately after, he reached out into thin air, pulling out a demon sword Drach'nyen and a Worldbreaker that were identical to Perturabo's out of nowhere.
That massive blade and giant hammer looked so mismatched against Adam's thin and tiny stature, yet he swung them with ferocious power and seamless fluid motion.
The sword and hammer seemed to lose all weight in his hands, turning into two afterimages that rained down onto Perturabo's head with utterly unreasonable rhythm.
The slaughter began anew.
The Adam in this dimension displayed martial skill even more exquisite than that of the Warmaster of Chaos.
Caught off guard, Perturabo took a hit.
Drach'nyen slashed across his pauldrons, and under the interference of a certain influence, that dark power began to bleed out from his wound.
Yet in the very next instant, four distinct rays of light burst forth from deep within his soul. Accompanied by the deafening screeches of the Four Gods, the lost power was rapidly replenished, becoming even more tempestuous than before.
"—To realize the method against me this quickly?"
Perturabo pondered in his mind.
Such talent, such authority was indeed shocking.
However, neither side was reasonable to begin with.
The aftermath of the battle continued to spread.
This clash, transcending dimensions and time, simultaneously affected both the Warp and the physical universe, leaving countless dimensions impacted.
On countless planets, humans widened their eyes, vaguely sensing that something monumental was taking place.
The battle raged on.
I must find his flaw once again.
Perturabo's mind operated at high speed.
Even before accepting the divine favor of Chaos, he possessed the extraordinary intellect of a Primarch.
Perturabo believed without a shadow of a doubt.
He could see through the entity before him once again.
I can do it.
I will definitely be able to do it.
Even if the flaw he had caught last time was instantly brushed off by the opponent in a border-line absurd manner, Perturabo believed he could still catch the next flaw.
"Found it."
He said to himself in his mind.
The scene shifted once more.
Dimensions rotated and reorganized like a kaleidoscope, and timelines were twisted into a braid as if by an invisible pair of massive hands. All possibilities converged at a single point, then collapsed toward a specific direction.
Perturabo exerted the full force of Chaos's power, preparing to deliver a fatal blow to his opponent in this new dimension.
"Wait, no!"
Perturabo suddenly reacted.
It was a trap!
The opponent's reality-warping ability had once again exceeded his imagination.
Like a curse woven specifically against Chaos itself, Adam delicately placed a curse upon Perturabo's Chaos essence, causing it to suffer interference and deviation.
That deviation was like a mirror reflection, turning the flaw he had just caught into a flaw of his own.
To even be capable of doing something like this?
Before he could think any further, Perturabo released his perception.
Or rather, he realized in a Planck time exactly where this place was.
He knew this land, he knew this sky, he knew everything here.
Olympia.
His homeworld.