Warhammer Divine Throne

Time was approaching June, summer, in the Charon Forest of Brittania.

The undead army moved within the forest, led by a massive number of terror wolves, followed by several phalanxes of desolate tomb guards, and then bloodthirsty celestial ghosts and undead knights.

At the rear of the army marched the Witch Demon King’s war chariot, flanked by the elite blood knights and bloodthirsty bat wolves, these hideous creatures clustered around Akhan in the heart of the army.

Typically, vampire armies also deploy corpse transport vehicles, and the strongest undead armies might possess a nether engine—a giant war machine; however, due to Akhan’s hasty relocation for this battle, preparations were lacking. In actuality, after severe devastation, Musillon also lacked the ability to create such colossal war machines.

Akhan sat on the war chariot, listening to the scouts’ report: ”Baron Gene’s domain is a tough nut to crack. According to intelligence, twenty Holy Grail Knights are stationed in the winery of Baron Gene’s domain. It’s very likely that the Lake God Witch is also hiding there.”

The green flames flickered incessantly in the eyes of the Witch Demon King. He had always hesitated about launching a surprise attack on Laine’s territory. Akhan was not very interested in slaughtering Laine’s lands; he was most intrigued by Mogiana’s whereabouts.

The resurrection of Nagash required this Divine Chosen Champion of the deities. She was the best magic power vessel. In the mortal world, Akhan had few choices for a magic power vessel. Due to Mogiana’s solitary nature, her not-so-proficient melee abilities, and a tree spirit willing to cooperate, she was already the most reachable target in Akhan’s plan.

As for other ideal targets, the High Elf Eternal Queen Ailarielle primarily resided in the Avalon Courtyard of Ossuan. That place is a grotto heaven blessed land, but it also signifies complete safety. At the very least, Akhan pondered many ways, but even a little deduction showed it’s nearly impossible to attain.

The situation was different for the Church Archbishop Walkma Bekman. If the previous two were female witches who were not adept at melee combat (compared to the Divine Chosen Champion and Holy Sanctuary power), then Walkma was a melee fanatic. His prowess in melee combat could rival the powerful Chaos Chosen Champion, and every Justice Church Archbishop automatically became Charlemagne’s First Divine Chosen, capable of summoning the Power of the Twin-tailed Comet to defeat enemies.

Akhan thought briefly and felt a headache. Therefore, he was inclined to try again, to see if he could catch Laine off guard and capture Mogiana, with the question of massacre being secondary.

How could he deceive the stationed Holy Grail Knights and achieve his goal in one strike?

And at that moment, the Witch Demon King suddenly felt a deep sense of unease.

This feeling arose out of nowhere. Akhan suddenly sensed a bone-deep fear. He could swear that even in the most arduous battles, whether facing the Eternal Emperor Setra, the King of Kings, or confronting his master, the Master of the Undead Nagash, he had never experienced such terror.

Lifting his head, the Witch Demon King suddenly discovered that the army had stopped moving.

”What’s going on? Why have we stopped?” Just as Akhan voiced his query, he suddenly sensed something was wrong. His millennia of combat experience made him instinctively raise his magic staff and activate a teleportation technique. Akhan’s magic abilities were beyond question; he vanished in the air almost instantaneously.

The instincts of the Witch Demon King saved him. Just as he teleported away, several arcs of golden light appeared in front of the war chariot.

The Master of Humans was without a helmet, only donning a golden crown. His black hair swayed with the summer’s forest breeze. He wore golden armor, and his towering figure, over three meters tall, seemed like a celestial god descending to the mortal world. His sacred visage appeared to work miracles, and his every move spoke of one thing.

He was the Master of Humans, he was the ruler of all.

To his left stood the Primarch of the Thirteenth Legion, Roboute Kiliman. His entire being exuded vibrant vitality, his presence unmatched, intimidating the undead army.

To his right, the World-Devourer Primarch Angerong stood proudly with a large axe in hand, exuding a blood-red aura like a hunting dog ready to hunt its next prey.

Even the three Imperial Guards and the Great Sage Kaur of the Mechanical God Cult were figures of monumental stature, but under the halo of these three individuals, their presence felt so small.

Within the forest, as if under a magic spell, the silence pervaded the middle of the woodland, except for the wind and the rustling of leaves, the undead present stared blankly at the figures that appeared at the center of the army.

Until the first scream broke out, a blood knight with supreme enthusiasm and madness roared, ”By Alboim Wallace above, this is a worthy foe!”

After this exclamation, this blood knight, who had fought for hundreds of years, pulled on the reins and charged toward the Emperor.

Then the Emperor moved, the Master of Humans’ arm flashed, the Emperor’s Sword, burning with inextinguishable holy flame, transformed into an almost unattainable illusion, its blade drawing a semicircle.

The blood knight’s body split in two. Before his death, he still harbored a longing for honor and battle, but he realized his wrist had detached from his body, his form was disintegrating.

The Emperor swiftly dealt with the blood knight with a single strike. He surveyed the undead surrounding him and with a roar proclaimed his presence: ”We have arrived; crush them!”