Skarbrand kept roaring, swinging axes in battle.
The thought of failing to claim the Primarch's head and losing to his old enemy only stoked the daemon's fury.
"Futile rage—this is the most pathetic trait of you Blood God lapdogs,"
Kairos mocked, hovering in the air.
As a servant of the Changer of Ways, he never passed up a chance to sneer at the Blood God.
To Tzeentch, brute Khorne was the most irritating being in existence.
War should be more than slaughter—it should be full of plots and schemes.
Skarbrand glared at Kairos, pushed back the Primarch and others with his axe, and charged at his avian nemesis, vowing to kill this foe first.
Yet Guilliman, like an immovable mountain, blocked his path.
The Emperor's Sword split the searing air, forcing Skarbrand to parry.
Guilliman's heart brimmed with hatred and enmity for the daemons, but he trusted the Nameless, blessed by the Emperor.
While the Primarch fought Skarbrand, Living Saint Celestine seized an opening in the daemon's defense caused by his rage,
And stabbed her holy sword through his brass armor and deep into his demonic flesh.
"ROAR! AAAAHHH—!"
Skarbrand howled in agony.
Guilliman seized the chance, pouring all his strength into his arms, raising the Emperor's Sword high, and slashing down as if to split a mountain.
CLANG—!
Skarbrand barely raised his axe to block the deadly blow,
But the Primarch's immense strength and the wound from the holy sword left him unable to stand.
With a dull thud, the Bloodthirster's knee slammed into the molten, warped floor.
"Witness your defeat, brute!"
"Blood God's lapdogs should kneel and beg for mercy."
Kairos's voice was full of glee.
If he alone became the Nameless's slave, he'd be the laughingstock of the Warp.
But if Skarbrand the brute also fell, everyone would just think the human was too strong.
If only the other two Chaos Lords could be enslaved as well—then no one could laugh at anyone.
Skarbrand's ferocity was incredible.
Just when his defeat seemed certain, the daemon exploded with one last burst of fury.
Ignoring his pain, he raised a burning axe and hurled it at Kairos with all his strength and rage.
Like a red meteor, the axe arced nearly perfectly toward Kairos's neck.
Swish—!
Kairos's smug look vanished as both his heads were lopped off, spinning away.
The huge body dissolved into countless points of light, vanishing—leaving only a faint Warp echo of shock and unwillingness.
Datch's Master Ball trembled, and a prompt appeared in his vision.
[Captured Pokémon—Fateweaver Kairos has died. Pokéball is now empty; you may attempt to capture a new Pokémon.]
Huh…
Datch froze, surprised by the Pokéball's rules.
Kairos surely wasn't truly dead, just banished to the Warp.
Skarbrand, even as a Bloodthirster, didn't have a super shotgun or the Emperor's Sword—he couldn't kill another Greater Daemon for good.
"Next time I have to be careful—not let these guys die for real."
Datch felt a pang—he'd just lost a top-tier Servant he'd worked so hard to capture.
Who knows if he'd get another chance?
"Oh well, at least I saved some points on a new Master Ball."
He was running low on points.
If he exchanged for another Master Ball, he'd be broke again.
Now he could save his points for other nifty items.
"ROAR—!"
A furious howl pulled him back to reality.
Skarbrand, having thrown his last attack, was also at his limit.
Pinned by Guilliman's Emperor's Sword and Celestine's holy sword,
He knelt on one knee, his wounded body trembling, but his eyes burned with rage.
A deep, unyielding growl rumbled from his throat—eyes promising to burn his foes to ash.
Now!
Datch pulled out his now-empty Master Ball and threw it at the Bloodthirster.
"Stop struggling—become my Servant, Skarbrand!"
The ball flew in a smooth arc, landing squarely on Skarbrand's head.
It opened, releasing a golden-red light that enveloped the furious daemon.
Skarbrand roared and fought, wounds bursting, burning blood spraying.
But, no longer at his peak,
After a brief struggle, "shoop"—he was sucked into the ball.
Clack!
The ball closed and dropped to the floor.
It shook violently, muffled thuds and roars from within.
After a few seconds, the shaking eased, the glow steadied, and finally went still.
"This… this actually worked?!"
Cypher, the Fallen Angel who had watched the whole thing, stared in shock.
On the run across the galaxy, he had seen countless impossible Warp phenomena and mysterious tech,
But sealing a Bloodthirster like Skarbrand with a ball?
Unbelievable—he wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't seen it.
The Harlequin Shadowseer, Sylandri Veilwalker, was just as stunned.
She had wandered the threads of fate, traveled countless corners of the galaxy and ancient ruins,
And knew many secrets—but this left her utterly baffled.
What's worse, nothing the Nameless did ever appeared in her or any seer's prophecies,
It was as if he were a variable outside fate itself—uncontrollable, unknowable.
Guilliman, Celestine, and other Imperial leaders were used to it by now.
They had seen too many miracles from the Nameless.
"Kill the rest!" Guilliman swung the Emperor's Sword and plunged back into the enemy, reaping lives.
Sicarius, Amalrich, and others shouted for the Emperor and fought fearlessly.
Without Skarbrand, the remaining daemons and berserkers were no match—they were soon routed.
"The Blackstone Fortress is the Red Corsairs' base—our raid is surely known by now. Enemy reinforcements will arrive soon. We must leave at once."
Guilliman, unfazed by victory, immediately ordered a selection of pilgrims suitable for the Webway to head for Terra.
The rest would remain with the fleet, and, with Harlequin help, escape the Maelstrom by another route, then go to Terra.
…
Bonus chapter at 100 PS