"S-Stop!"
The Dark Emperor had been elbowed numb and did not even have time to counterattack.
His body rapidly shifted, transforming once again into the Emperor's majestic appearance, trying to use that image to exert influence again.
"You abomination, you still dare show off your cheap tricks before me, the Savior? Taste these golden fists!"
This only made Eden angrier. He jumped up and started swinging.
Brilliant sacred light erupted from his fists, and he slammed two heavy haymakers into the Dark Emperor's face.
Simple. Direct. Fist to flesh.
Eden's fists, filled with countless authorities and immense faith energy, were fiercer than any weapon in the galaxy.
His powerful attacks battered the Dark Emperor's daemonic body, which not even ship cannons could easily damage, until it was covered in wounds. Even His teeth went flying.
"What defiance! This is betrayal! This is rebellion!
"I am the Master of Mankind, ruler of the galaxy, and the final destruction!"
The golden-armored image conjured by the Dark Emperor flew into a rage, almost incoherent.
As a former king and the current god of destruction, He had never suffered such humiliation.
The Dark Emperor had never imagined that a human would dare humiliate Him, the ruler of mankind.
This was outright blasphemy against the heavens!
"Sorry, but times have changed. You are not the Emperor, and the galaxy will not be destroyed.
"Dark King, no matter how powerful you are, you won't get the chance to be born. I, the Savior, will shove you back in little by little!"
Eden fought with complete satisfaction, pinning the Dark Emperor against the Golden Throne and beating Him savagely.
No matter how righteous his words were, from a distance, the scene looked like a great traitor committing regicide.
Extremely rebellious.
"Emperor!"
A high-ranking priest attached to the army saw such a blasphemous scene and could not help exposing his original faith.
He was so frightened he nearly fainted. He shut his eyes, not daring to look, and even less daring to say anything blasphemous.
After all, blaspheming the Emperor was unforgivable. Blaspheming the Savior was even more unforgivable. More importantly, that Emperor of the Imperium had already pinned the fallen Emperor to the Throne and was beating Him.
How mighty. How great. How impossible to defy.
This high-ranking priest still knew who ruled the Imperium now. The age of that great Emperor had already passed.
"Damn it. That bastard actually…"
Inside the nearby Blackstone cage, Horus stared at the scene on the Golden Throne through gritted teeth, his eyes filled with intense envy and jealousy.
Was this not exactly what he had always wanted to do?
This former Warmaster of the Imperium and Dark Emperor had launched a rebellion that set the galaxy aflame, even accepting the authority of the Chaos Gods.
Had he not done all that because he wanted to drag the Emperor—the False Emperor—down from the Golden Throne, defeat Him in front of everyone, and trample Him underfoot?
To let the galaxy and the Warp know who the true ruler of mankind was?
Yet he had failed. That opportunity had been taken by the Savior, who now defeated the False Emperor before everyone in an even more imposing way.
He was even pinning Him to the Throne and beating Him.
So fierce.
Horus could not help imagining it. If the one beating the False Emperor on the Golden Throne right now were him, what kind of majesty and glory would that be?
He looked at the Savior, feeling sour inside.
This Dark Emperor remembered everything that had happened before.
The Savior had stopped the Chaos coalition, dismantled the False Emperor's skeleton before him, and was now beating the False Emperor in full view of everyone.
It was enough to make him envy, resent, and hate him all at once.
"I will never be able to compare to the Savior. All my glory will be buried, reduced to a stepping stone on the road of his legend."
Horus slumped against the Blackstone cage, full of sorrow. A glimmer of tears even slid from the corner of his eye.
He had been suppressed by that being in every way, with no chance of turning things around. If the Savior had to be born, why was Horus born too?
On the Golden Throne.
Eden's huge fists moved so fast they left afterimages even Primarchs could barely see, proof of how powerful his attacks were.
The more he fought, the heavier his blows became. He even started jumping and kicking.
Extremely brutal.
These attacks made the golden-armored Dark Emperor howl, utterly blasphemous.
High-level combat was this violent. There was no technique to speak of.
This was not because Eden's skill was lacking. It was because he had returned to simplicity.
Even Primarchs with superb technique, once their weapons and ammunition were exhausted and their armor shattered, would end up rolling around and trading wild, messy punches. Hair-pulling, eye-gouging, venom-spitting, sneak attacks—every kind of move came out.
They would also trash-talk and spit while fighting, then counterattack and behead the enemy when their guard broke.
It was just that ordinary.
Old Emperor, don't blame me for being violent. This is… all for your own good!
Eden thought this while hammering the Dark Emperor's armpit.
He was doing everything he could to suppress the Dark King's authority.
The harder he hit, the more destructive corruption he weakened, and the more authority of hope he sent in.
The old Emperor's chances of recovering His consciousness in the future would also become higher.
This was not only to save the galaxy and the Warp. It was also to save the Emperor. Eden could only beat Him with tears in his eyes.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!
The muffled impacts of the Savior beating the Dark Emperor spread throughout the Throne region.
Such terrifying, blasphemous blows made every being fall silent.
They were all frozen like cicadas in winter.
Even the Dark Damned warriors were the same.
Because of the Savior's authority and presence, they did not even have the courage to step forward and stop it.
"Father…"
Guilliman and the other loyalist Primarchs stood frozen in place, staring blankly as the Savior beat the Dark Emperor.
This might have been the most absurd thing in the galaxy. Only that Emperor of the Imperium had the courage and ability to beat their biological father in front of the Primarchs.
And they had nothing to say about it.
"Big Brother… is this the only way?"
Rogal Dorn, the most devoted filial son among the Primarchs and the one who worshiped the Emperor most, sounded choked.
Tears misted in his eyes, and he clenched his fists.
In the past, no matter the reason, if anyone dared blaspheme the Emperor, he would have been the first to rush forward and fight to the death.
But now, Rogal Dorn still kept himself under control. He knew Big Brother had his reasons for doing this.
He could not stop him. He had no right to stop him. Otherwise, he might cause an even more terrible disaster.
But his loyalty to the Emperor, to that father of his, ran so deep. How could he watch this happen with his own eyes?
Especially when the golden-armored Dark Emperor cried out in pain and pleaded. How was he supposed to endure it?
The image conjured by the Dark King was constantly provoking Rogal Dorn.
It wanted him to do something.
"No!"
He cried out in grief. At last, unable to restrain himself and unable to accept it, he drove his blade into the ground with a sharp thrust and began to act.
The Lord of the Phalanx abruptly turned around and lowered his head, refusing to look at the scene of the Dark Emperor being beaten. He also sealed the receivers in his helmet.
Blocking out every sound.
Forgive me, Father!
Rogal Dorn shut his eyes tightly and thought this. In his grief, this dutiful son chose, rather helplessly, not to look at the Dark Emperor's miserable state.
He knew Big Brother was doing this to save the Emperor—their father.
At the same time, the other Primarchs had all kinds of expressions.
They all knew this might be the best solution, and also something the Emperor Himself would have wanted to see.
Even so, the sounds of beating and the Dark Emperor's muffled groans still made them shudder.
The Primarchs could not connect the supremely majestic Emperor in their memories, that tyrant who tolerated no offense, with the being currently pinned down and beaten on the Golden Throne.
Was that really their father?
Some Primarchs looked at the Dark Emperor's miserable state and recalled how the Emperor had once punished and scolded them in the posture of a tyrant.
The corners of their mouths could not help curling up.
Why did this feel a little exciting?
As far as they were concerned, the being before them was definitely not the real Emperor, not their father. What was wrong with enjoying the sight a little?
Besides, it did not affect their loyalty.
Who could have imagined that their stern father would have a day like this too?
At that moment, the Savior threw another explosive haymaker and struck the Dark Emperor until He was dizzy, His eyes almost crossing.
Woo-hoo!
Alpharius, Fulgrim, and the other Daemon Primarchs who had once been struck by fatherly love could not help clenching their fists and quietly cheering.
"Ah, as expected of the Emperor of the Imperium and the first Chosen of the Lord of Hell. That was a fine hit."
They felt relieved, as though every pore in their bodies had opened.
Although they had now become the Chosen of the Lord of Hell and had, in a roundabout way, returned to the Imperium, they still would not oppose the Emperor, their father.
But being able to witness such a wonderful scene made the trip worthwhile.
Fulgrim and Magnus, these two brothers in misfortune, had even learned the Savior's essence and secretly recorded the scene.
They planned to take it out later, when the night was deep and all was quiet, and enjoy it properly in private.
What a beautiful thing.
"Brother, do you think the Savior needs help?"
Fulgrim thought of something, immediately became tempted, and secretly sent a voice transmission to the Crimson King. He swallowed, his voice a little hoarse.
The Fallen Phoenix was getting restless. He wanted to take the risk and go up to assist the Savior, to fight for the Imperium.
Loyalty!
Of course, this dutiful son's main goal was to take advantage of the chaos and kick the Dark Emperor a couple of times to satisfy his tiny desire for revenge.
There were not many opportunities this reasonable and legal. Even if the Emperor, their father, recovered in the future, He would not be able to say anything.
Fulgrim would be fighting for the Imperium. He would be saving that father!
When Fulgrim thought of being able to go up there and show his filial devotion, he became excited. His forked tongue flicked in and out.
There were almost no beings in the galaxy who could attack the Emperor. That, too, was a kind of glory!
???
When Magnus heard the Fallen Phoenix's words, his heart shook. Even the third eye on his forehead widened into a perfect circle.
This was an absolutely brilliant idea. The Fallen Phoenix really knew how to play!
He was also tempted, though his attitude was not firm enough.
"Can that work…? Isn't that a little inappropriate?"
The Crimson King was not as rebellious as Fulgrim.
"Hiss.
"We're helping the Savior. We're fighting for the Imperium. How could the Emperor bear to blame us?"
Fulgrim's words were full of temptation, echoing beside the Crimson King's ear.
"You're right. We're not betraying Him. We're only helping Father suppress the Dark King.
"He won't blame us."
Magnus said this, doing his utmost to convince himself.
This dutiful son also wanted to send warmth to his father. If he could take the opportunity to punch Him a few times, that would be even better.
Opportunities like this did not come twice.
After Fulgrim and Magnus, these two dutiful sons, secretly reached an agreement, they immediately began moving.
While no one was paying attention, they used sorcery to conceal themselves and quietly crept toward the Golden Throne.
As the two of them approached the Throne, they clearly saw the Dark Emperor being beaten, as well as the Savior's explosive body.
Fulgrim and Magnus were both nervous and excited.
For these rebellious Daemon Primarchs who had once trembled under the Emperor's stern rebukes, being able to touch the "tiger's ass" even once was incredibly rare.
It was also a glorious achievement.
They were going for it!
After Fulgrim and Magnus reached the middle of the steps, the two exchanged a glance and gave a barely perceptible nod.
They gritted their teeth, revealed themselves, and rushed toward the Throne. Their voices were full of righteousness.
"Big Brother, I'll help you!"
The sudden assistance from these two Daemon Primarchs stunned everyone, especially Guilliman and the loyalist Primarchs.
They had not expected those two traitors to be so bold as to take part in this battle to suppress their old father.
At that moment, the Dark Emperor happened to counterattack, temporarily forcing the Savior back. When He saw Daemon Primarchs attacking Him, He nearly lost His composure.
He still possessed the thinking of the Emperor's dark persona, the form of a dark tyrant. The fact that Primarchs dared attack Him was even harder for Him to accept.
The Savior was an existence on the verge of godhood, so if he stopped Him, so be it. But Chaos Primarchs who were His blood descendants also wanted to join in?
Were they worthy?!
Rumble—
The Dark Emperor exploded with rage. Black fire of destruction spiraled around Him, erupting with overwhelming intimidation.
At that moment, He was like a furious stern father—the Emperor holding the super-enhanced form of the Seven Wolves belt!
The Dark Emperor's eyes were crimson as He shot His gaze toward the charging Fulgrim and Magnus. It was the gaze of a tyrant—cold, absolute, and unquestionable.
That posture was also the shadow in the Primarchs' memories, and now it was even more terrifying.
"F-Father…"
Fulgrim and Magnus froze on the spot. Under the influence of the Warp and immense fell energy, the terrifying shadows of the Emperor in their memories surged wildly.
Those cruel psychic fatherly backhands and that Seven Wolves belt seemed to appear before their eyes, swinging madly.
They stopped on the nearest step, their bodies stiffening. They even wanted to kneel.
The Emperor's intimidation toward these rebellious Primarchs had already been extremely powerful. Now that it came from the Dark Emperor, it directly dragged out the shadows in their hearts.
"You two… get lost!"
Every syllable from the Dark Emperor struck the souls of the two filial Daemon Primarchs like a heavy hammer.
Frightened and shaken, the two of them lost their balance and tumbled down the steps.
Extremely pathetic.
Not only had they failed to achieve their goal, they had humiliated themselves in public.
Their hearts turned to ash. They even hoped they could roll down the stairs forever and never hit the ground to face the gazes of the other Primarchs.
"Hiss!
"How much psychological damage did the old Emperor's fatherly backhands inflict on these rebellious Primarchs?
"He really did a number on the kids."
Eden felt numb when he saw this scene.
Fortunately, he had never expected the Primarchs to be of much help. After all, he was mainly relying on immense faith-based psychic power to suppress the Dark King.
Those physical attacks were merely manifestations of a certain authority. Even if the Primarchs took part, they would not be able to pin Him down.
Furthermore, the shadow the Emperor had left in their hearts was too large. The Dark Emperor could easily exploit it.
That would only create more trouble.
Now that those two eager filial sons had been shouted back, it was actually a good thing.
At that moment, at the edge of the Golden Throne—
A faint golden consciousness watched the behavior of these dutiful Primarch sons and trembled violently…
(End of Chapter)
[Get +30 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Zaelum"]
[Every 300 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]