Chapter 755 Alone

Horus completely disappeared, his body, his soul, his warp essence.

Everything completely disappeared under the burning of the flames. Maybe he regained his sanity in the end, but he no longer had eyes that could show his guilt.

The Emperor was wounded, he coughed up blood, and could not move. He won the duel and completed the last part of the Ascension Ceremony.

All the suffering accumulated in the Ascension Throne rushed to the Emperor. This pain mixed with the Emperor's heart, making him feel desperate.

The four gods are congratulating them that they will have a new friend to join the Eternal Game.

"Yeah! Open the champagne!" Slaanesh shook a bottle of wine brewed by extreme joy and happily splashed it on Terra.

But it is not only humans themselves who are involved in the complex situation on Terra. The Eldar's Laughing God is watching at the edge of the solar system. He summoned all the troupes to prepare to stop the Emperor when he loses control.

Tzeentch had long noticed the preparations of the Laughing God, but he knew that the Laughing God was just doing useless work.

The Eldar Empire nurtured Slaanesh with more than 10,000 years of indulgence, which made Slaanesh have its first heartbeat. The Emperor's promotion to the fifth god was not a simple decision made on the spur of the moment.

The Great Heresy lasted only seven years, and the Great Crusade lasted only more than two hundred years. This kind of war, which was considered to be a world-destroying and city-burning war for the Primarch, was far less than the fur of the Iron War.

All the energy for promotion to godhood was fully prepared during the reign of the End Producers and the Age of Strife. The Great Crusade and the Great Heresy were just an indispensable means to complete the ascension ceremony.

And who knows all these rituals? It is naturally Tzeentch who controls knowledge. Even in the subspace, in the eternal game without moral standards, there are some fixed rules.

This is the origin of the existence of the universe, the fundamental logic of the operation of all things, just like the four rules in the game of life that cannot be violated.

Tzeentch will take the initiative to use these rules and deliberately let him stand on the side of the rules. Even Khorne, who was fooled by him to the point of losing his mind, will bite his teeth and swallow it in front of the supreme rules.

Give hope in the dark, give despair when hope grows, and finally crush all the good things.

This is the essential logic of the ascension to the gods. The last finalist who ascended the throne was not able to bear the suffering, but Tzeentch knew that the Emperor could, and he would continue to bear the suffering and let fate move forward.

"Accept your fate! The fifth seat is ready for you!" Tzeentch cheered for the Emperor, but the Emperor ignored him.

He looked at the place where Horus disappeared, looked at the cold body of Sanguinius, and looked at Dorn rushing to his side in a panic.

"Dorn. Help me back. Let me see Malcador for the last time."

The Emperor's voice was weak and broken. Dorn felt collapsed the moment he heard it. He resisted the urge to cry and howl, helped the heavy Emperor up, and walked step by step.

"And your brother." The Emperor said again.

Dorn nodded sadly, and he would properly place Sanguinius.

Valdor also came, holding the Spear of the Sun God. He had already obtained too much horrible information in the killing of the Vengeful Spirit. He looked at the Emperor, and the Emperor saw him.

They returned to Terra, to the palace. Even though the tide of Chaos was receding because of the death of Horus, this war-torn planet still had to tremble in the dark power of the Emperor's suffering.

The sky was gloomy, and unnatural clouds dropped black raindrops, which stained the Emperor's armor and obscured the golden light.

Dorn and Valdor were not affected by the black rain. They tried to wipe off the darkness on the Emperor, but found that they were powerless. They could only watch the Emperor continue to sink in the darkness until he had no human form.

The news that the Emperor was seriously injured and dying also spread throughout Terra through this rain. The surviving civilians and tenacious warriors all collapsed and knelt in the direction of the Emperor, praying for the Emperor to be safe with the prayers he hated the most.

These voices reached the Emperor's ears. Normally, he should not have heard them so clearly before he ascended the throne.

The huge throne was right in front of him. Only the Emperor could see that this miracle creation was losing control, and all the suffering and torture suppressed in it were trying to break free from the shackles of the throne.

Malcador was sitting on it, his skinny and his eyes were dull. An old and blind body was holding on to its last breath by the suffering of the throne. The Emperor felt his eyes wet with tears. His old friend should not endure such a fate.

The Emperor gently touched Malcador's body with his psychic power, trying to wake him up from the nightmare of suffering.

"I'm here! I'm awake!" Malcador shouted, trying to prop himself up from the seat.

The Emperor tried to help Malcador up, just like Dorn.

"I can do it! I'm energetic!" Malcador muttered dissatisfiedly, and the Emperor's hand stopped in mid-air without reaching out.

Rather than saying that Malcador stood up, it would be better to say that Malcador turned into a ball of ash and was blown away by the wind.

The Emperor sat on the throne, and the familiar yet unfamiliar pain filled his perception. His eyes were dark. He could not see Dorn, Valdor, or Vulkan.

Only the shadows of Malcador and the Four Gods were relatively clear. Malcador floated forward, which was a direction unknown to the Emperor.

"I will face the Four Gods, I will triumph, I will return to my throne, and sit here for thousands and thousands of years."

"Then you must do it, my old friend. Because by then, I will no longer be able to witness you fulfill your promise."

Malcador continued to float forward, and the Emperor stretched out his hand to try to stop him, his tone filled with anxiety and panic.

"I can't fight alone!"

Malcador looked back at the Emperor, a comforting smile on his old face, "But the battle will continue."

After that, Malcador disappeared, as if he had never existed anywhere.

The pain and sorrow made the Emperor unable to breathe, and this emotional pain was far greater than the physical torture brought to him by the throne.

The four gods were whispering again, they were promising the Emperor that as long as they joined forces, they could get great pleasure in the eternal game that the mortal world could not imagine.

"You two are really interesting~ Tsk tsk tsk, if Malcador was a girl, you would probably have a house full of children~" Slaanesh said happily, which attracted the disgusted eyes of other gods.

"Shut up! This is a glorious sacrifice, you can't blaspheme it like this!" Khorne said violently.

"Khorne is right." Nurgle agreed.

Slaanesh curled his lips indifferently, scolding Khorne and Nurgle for being hypocritical.