Chapter 46 Ka'Bandha Hehe I'm Coming For You Great Angel!

(Bonus) 46: Chapter 46: Ka’Bandha: Hehe, I’m Coming For You, Great Angel!

(Bonus) For the time since I started translating I have more than a 1000 people reading a book in a single day.

We also blazed past TOP 50 and are currently on Rank 34.

By the way we are going I hope we reach TOP 10 soon!

— “No one wants this to be true, but it is an objective reality.

A terrifying, extra-dimensional entity has aggressively intervened in our Great Game and successfully resurrected Sanguinius.” Chief Sorcerer Zaraphiston let out a heavy, rattling sigh.

“The Gods have issued a direct warning.

They have formally halted their eternal war and are preparing to form a united front to address this unprecedented crisis.” Hearing this, the absolute, apocalyptic fury completely vanished from Abaddon’s face, replaced by a deep, calculating stare.

“Even the Four are terrified of him?

To the point of actually allying with each other?” “It seems this extra-dimensional entity possesses truly catastrophic power.” “Perhaps…

I can exploit this situation to seize the ultimate initiative.” For ten thousand years, the Dark Gods had constantly, aggressively tried to permanently enslave Abaddon, desiring to turn him into a mindless, obedient puppet.

But Abaddon had absolutely refused to kneel, constantly attempting to manipulate and enslave the Gods in return.

Unfortunately, the sheer difference in metaphysical weight and raw power between him and the Gods was an insurmountable chasm.

But now, he saw a sliver of hope.

Perhaps he could hijack this chaotic, apocalyptic crisis to seize power that transcended the Gods themselves.

He would fulfill his father Horus’s ultimate ambition: becoming the master of mankind and establishing absolute, undisputed dominion over the entire universe.

Suddenly, frantic, blaring klaxons shattered the silence.

Harsh, spinning red emergency lights bathed the rune-inscribed corridors of the Vengeful Spirit in bloody illumination.

Abaddon instantly drew his daemon sword, Drach’nyen, dropping into a flawless combat stance.

A heavy squad of Chaos Terminators violently charged out of the shadows, immediately forming a heavily armored defensive perimeter around the Despoiler.

Leading them was Falkus Kibre, a hardened veteran of the Great Crusade.

“Kibre!

Give me a sit-rep!

Are we under attack?!

Identify the enemy!” Abaddon fired off a rapid string of questions.

“No incoming fire reported, Lord Abaddon!

Augurs detect absolutely no hostile vessels in the immediate vicinity!” Kibre barked.

“The anomaly is originating exclusively from the primary engineering decks!” “We’re going down there.” Abaddon gripped his daemon sword tightly and marched off the bridge, with Kibre and the Terminators falling in right behind him.

The Vengeful Spirit had been aggressively infected by a deeply anomalous, hyper-advanced technological corruption.

A sickly, pale-green luminescence pulsed violently from the ship’s lower decks.

The biological servitors permanently fused into the bulkheads screamed in absolute, tearing agony.

Microscopic, razor-sharp metallic tendrils violently erupted from their flesh, weaving through the air to form impossible, shifting geometric fractals.

“What in the Warp is this?” Abaddon’s expression darkened, his grip on Drach’nyen tightening until his knuckles popped.

“Double-time to engineering!

I will absolutely not allow anyone to compromise my flagship!” The Warmaster and his elite guard sprinted through the corridors, aggressively assimilating several other Chaos Marine patrols along the way.

By the time they reached the heavily reinforced blast doors of the primary engine room, Abaddon was flanked by over a hundred heavily armed veterans and Sororers.

Kicking the blast doors open, the Chaos Marines laid eyes on the culprit.

Countless metallic tendrils and pulsing energy conduits had violently woven together, forming hyper-complex, interlocking gears and esoteric geometric patterns.

The mass of technology rapidly coalesced into a colossal, terrifyingly imposing humanoid figure.

The entity was wreathed in violent arcs of warp-lightning and the blinding, searing heat of an industrial forge.

“Identify yourself,” Abaddon commanded, staring at the mechanical monstrosity, his brow deeply furrowed.

“I am Vashtorr, the Arkifane.

I am the absolute master of the Forge of Souls.

Warmaster, I have come to offer you a highly lucrative partnership.” Vashtorr had originally intended to wait for a much more mathematically optimal moment to reveal himself to Abaddon.

However, the catastrophic anomaly on Baal forced him to aggressively accelerate his timeline.

“A partnership?

Why the hell should I trust you?!” Abaddon glared at Vashtorr, his eyes burning with absolute, uncompromising suspicion.

“Because our ultimate goals perfectly align, Warmaster.

And because the resources I can provide are of absolute, incalculable value to your crusade.” Vashtorr didn’t waste time on flowery diplomacy; he bluntly laid out his objective.

He was currently a demigod of the Warp, but his ultimate ambition was to seize absolute authority, forcefully ascend to true godhood, and permanently install himself as the Fifth Chaos God in the Great Game.

To achieve this, he required Abaddon’s mortal armies.

In exchange for the Warmaster’s services, Vashtorr offered an alliance.

To immediately prove his absolute value, Vashtorr formally pledged to provide Abaddon with hyper-advanced, daemonic fleet assets, reality-breaking siege weaponry, and cutting-edge logistical infrastructure.

Abaddon ran a rapid, hyper-pragmatic calculation in his head and accepted the terms.

With Sanguinius resurrected and an overpowered extra-dimensional entity actively interfering in realspace, the galaxy was about to plunge into an era of unprecedented, apocalyptic chaos.

If Abaddon wanted to emerge as the ultimate victor, he needed to aggressively secure every single microscopic advantage he could get his hands on.

“From this exact moment forward, we are allies, Vashtorr.

Do not disappoint me, or I swear upon the Dark Gods, you will absolutely regret it,” Abaddon declared, his tone lethally cold.

Starting today, I will forcefully hijack this era of apocalyptic chaos.

I will claw my way to the absolute pinnacle of power and become the undisputed Master of Mankind.

When that day comes, both the Chaos Pantheon and the Corpse-Emperor will submit and grovel at my feet.

“Rest assured, Warmaster.

Our transaction will ensure we both acquire exactly what we desire,” Vashtorr promised, his voice grinding like tectonic plates.

— Deep within the Warp, the Four Chaos Gods formally finalized their temporary ceasefire, entirely redirecting their focus to the Outer God.

While Tzeentch, Slaanesh, and Nurgle furiously drafted hyper-complex countermeasures, Khorne refused to sit idle.

He wanted to test the resurrected Primarch’s combat stats.

So he decided to deploy an elite subordinate to realspace to gather physical combat data.

The Blood God cast His gaze across His infinite legions of Greater Daemons, instantly locking onto the perfect candidate: Ka’Bandha.

Ka’Bandha was currently locked in a brutal, localized war against the Vampiric Progenitor.

The Vampiric Progenitor was the sole surviving deity of the ancient Vampiric Ascendancy’s pantheon.

During the apocalyptic war between the Aeldari and the Vampires, the conflict hadn’t been restricted to realspace; it had violently spilled over into the Immaterium.

The Aeldari Pantheon completely and utterly annihilated the Vampiric Pantheon.

The Progenitor was the only entity to survive, forced to flee and hide in the deepest, darkest crevices of the Warp.

It wasn’t until the birth of Slaanesh and the catastrophic destruction of the Aeldari Pantheon that the Vampiric Progenitor finally dared to creep back into His ancient, shattered domain, desperately hoping to rebuild His power.

However, completely cut off from His original mortal worshippers, His power had suffered a catastrophic, permanent decay.

He was relegated to hiding within His ruined domain, pathetically siphoning scraps of psychic energy by corrupting minor xenos races just to survive.

Crucially, deep within that ruined domain, there existed an ancient, highly unstable Warp-rift that connected directly to the Baal System.

Khorne immediately beamed a direct command into Ka’Bandha’s mind, blessing the Bloodthirster with a massive surge of raw power.

He ordered the Daemon to kill the Vampiric Progenitor, seize the domain, and use the rift to launch a direct invasion of Baal.

“ROOOAAARR!” Empowered by the direct, absolute blessing of the Blood God, Ka’Bandha roared in deafening fury.

The hellfire violently engulfing his massive frame burned hotter than a dying star.

Sensing the direct gaze of Khorne, Ka’Bandha’s daemonic legion whipped into a state of absolute, hyper-violent frenzy, aggressively pushing the Progenitor’s shadow-armies into a catastrophic, full-scale rout.

Following a brutal, incredibly brief duel, the Vampiric Progenitor was mortally wounded by Ka’Bandha, howling in agony as He fled the domain.

His remaining armies were completely, utterly massacred.

Ka’Bandha stomped toward the ancient Warp-rift, preparing to launch his infinite daemonic legion directly into the Baal System.

“Hehehe…

Great Angel…

I didn’t expect you to actually crawl out of your grave.” “This time, I am going to physically rip your pathetic wings from your back, and make absolutely sure you never fly again!” — The catastrophic anomaly generated by the resurrection and Apotheosis of Sanguinius completely engulfed the entire Baal System, and its metaphysical shockwaves violently rippled across the entire universe.

Every single citizen in the Baal System looked up into the sky and witnessed a blinding, eternal secondary sun violently ignite in the sky.

Flawless, impossibly beautiful angelic hymns materialized out of thin air, echoing directly into the minds of billions, aggressively purging despair and instantly cleansing their souls.

The Sanguinor, the golden herald of the Blood, materialized directly from the blinding light.

Behind him, tens of thousands of translucent, glowing white spirits—the souls of every single Blood Angel who had ever died in service to the Chapter—manifested in realspace.

They raised their ethereal weapons and roared Sanguinius’s name in deafening, ecstatic triumph.

Among the glowing host were countless ancient, legendary heroes from the Great Crusade: Amit the Flesh Tearer, Zephon the Bringer of Sorrow, and dozens of other long-lost champions.

At that exact microsecond, every single sentient entity across the entire galaxy heard a low, undeniable whisper directly in their minds.

[…The End and the Judgement…] […The End and the Judgement…] The whisper echoed with absolute, inescapable authority.

Physically covering one’s ears did absolutely nothing.

As long as a creature possessed a soul, they heard it.

Even the Drukhari, hiding deep within the darkest, most heavily shielded depths of the Webway, were not spared.

“Another God is born.

Is this era truly rushing toward its absolute end?” Asdrubael Vect, the Supreme Overlord of the Dark City of Commorragh and absolute master of the Kabal of the Black Heart, climbed out of his paramour’s bed, staring out the window at the Ilmaea, the captive dark suns of the city, muttering to himself.

When Yvraine had formally established the Ynnari, Vect had immediately embedded several highly trained deep-cover operatives among the defecting Drukhari, successfully infiltrating Yvraine’s inner circle.

The moment Cegorach had spoken to Eldrad, Vect’s spies had immediately transmitted a hyper-encrypted pulse-burst back to Commorragh, fully briefing the Overlord on the Warp anomaly and the source of the galactic whisper.

“Ynnead has awoken.

And now, humanity has violently birthed a brand-new God.

Cadia is shattered, the Great Rift is expanding…

This is an era of unprecedented, absolute chaos.” “I must immediately secure access to overwhelmingly superior power.

It is the only mathematical way I can guarantee my absolute survival and supremacy in this coming apocalypse.” A profound, razor-sharp sense of urgency violently gripped Vect’s cold heart.

It is time to forcefully unseal the ancient, prohibited doomsday technologies.

I would rather aggressively detonate the entire galaxy than allow my absolute dominion to be threatened for a single microsecond.

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