Warhammer Divine Throne

Chapter 429: Chapter 183, Boldro Night (Part 5)

Has the situation deteriorated to such an extent?

He was about to say something when Duke Boldro Bodrick suddenly appeared, holding a crystal goblet. Upon seeing Laine and the others, he smiled and approached: ”Ah, my friend Anatole, and Lord Laine, Lady Surya, why are you hiding in the corner whispering? We have an even bigger surprise here, this is ’Manannan’s Enjoyment.’ I specially brought it out today to celebrate a year of harvest and hard work.”

Laine and Anatole immediately paused their conversation: ”Oh! My, is this the legendary Manannan’s Enjoyment?”

Manannan’s Enjoyment is a wine imbued with legend, brewed by the renowned hermit Gottfried Koch in a meticulously tended field within the Gray Mountain Range. It is said that the grapes have never been exposed to sunlight; they are grown in a field shielded by a smooth door, illuminated only by the direct beams of the moon. This exquisite wine carries a ghostly aroma, melting on the palate, and is among the finest wines in the world.

”Come, have a taste, ladies and gentlemen.”

”Oh, I am honored.”

The banquet continued to blaze with excitement.

......

At this moment, in the Main Material Universe, Milky Way Galaxy, Holy Terra satellite, lunar surface.

After enduring months of arduous expedition, Roboute Kiliman, Primarch of the Thirteenth Legion, had faced countless hardships. He had even been imprisoned by the Great Tzeentch Demon Carlos and hunted by the Ascension Demon Primarch Magnus during the expedition, only escaping encirclement thanks to the aid of multiple allied forces and the Eldar Clown ensemble.

Utilizing the Eldar’s Net Dao, Kiliman finally reached the moon, now just a step away from Holy Terra.

The exit of the Net Dao is located in a deep ring-shaped valley on the lunar surface, where visibility is extremely low. The starlight overhead, already dim, is further obscured by the surrounding ring mountains, providing only limited illumination to the depths of the valley for the loyalists below.

Roboute Kiliman knew there was little time left for his army to catch their breath. He immediately ordered his troops to hasten their climb up the ring mountain. Behind them, the Eldar Clown ensemble diligently worked to close the Net Gate, leaving them at the rear of the formation.

The Primarch of the Thirteenth Legion looked up, his gaze meeting the boundless dark firmament, countless glittering stars near and seemingly within reach, yet nowhere could compare to that beautiful planet ahead.

Humanity’s home planet—Holy Terra lay before the expeditionary army, its radiance so dazzling. Kiliman was convinced that as long as Holy Terra stood firm, humanity would never perish.

”Father’s throne!” Kiliman muttered to himself, the destination of the expedition right before his eyes, the very thing Kiliman had tirelessly sought.

At that moment, the Eldar troops attempting to close the Net Gate were suddenly engulfed in black flames. The surging dark tide swallowed the delicate bodies of the Aidans, many Eldar soldiers being incinerated to ash by the terrifying blue flames, while others froze and shattered into fragments.

Kiliman, having reached the peak of the ring mountain, turned to look back, discovering the Eldar’s Net Gate had been destroyed. From the corrupted Net Dao Space, the warriors of the Fallen Legion, the Son of a Thousand Wounds, were pouring out of the Net Gate.

Kiliman understood that this grand expedition was nearing its conclusion. Beyond lay the Throne World of his father, and a loyal son must not fail here.

A fierce war unfolded. Under the loyalists’ concentrated fire, the Fallens of the Thousand Sons seemed overwhelmed, quickly retreating and being driven back toward the vicinity of the Net Gate under Kiliman’s command and the expeditionary army’s tight cooperation.

Until a terrifying surge of evil energy erupted from within the Net Gate, all the warriors of the expedition felt unmatched fear. It was a giant beast over five meters tall, bearing horns on its head and massive wings on its back.

”Magnus...” Kiliman instantly recognized his former brother.

”Oh~ Kiliman, a thousand years unsee, have you somehow shrunk?” The Ascension Demon Primarch Red Son Magnus revealed a hideous grin, raising his blade staff. With a mocking laugh, he said, ”Let me see if you’ve improved after slumbering for ten thousand years?”

Kiliman did not respond, as the Primarch of the Thirteenth Legion had just received a communication.

At that moment, an exasperated voice came from the other end of the battlefield.

”Magnus! My son!”

”Between us! There’s an old score! We need to settle!”