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Chapter 85 – The Golden Lion

  Ihe tent, the Daemons were in disarray. The explosion had sent shockwaves of panic through the crowd. Some Daemons, wounded but not dead, writhed on the ground, groaning in agony. Others staggered about, dazed and fused, while a few merely gawked, speg wildly about what had just occurred. “Was that part of the show? A surprise performance?” one Daemon mused aloud.

  “No way. That was a full-blown explosion! Half the idiots in the front row are dead!” anrowled.

  “Maybe it’s punishment for the ck of appuse earlier,” a third Daemoed nervously. “The Golden Lion hates being booed.”

  The mere thought caused a ripple of fear to pass through the audience. Some began g frantically, desperate to avoid the lion’s wrath.“Bravo! More fireworks!”“Beautiful dispy, truly artistic!”“Let’s have an bang!”

  The chaos reached a fever pittil the lion itself roared. The sound was thunderous, dist the very air with its raw power. The cacophony ceased as all eyes turo the stage. “Silehe lion bellowed, its voianding. “We are utack! Stay calm and—”

  Kayvaan, crouched in his hiding spot, smirked and pressed the detonatain. The sed explosion ripped through the tent with eveer ferocity than the first. Fmes roared, painting the interior in hues e and red. Daemonic bodies were torn asuheir flesh and ichor spttering across the grotesque walls of the tent.

  Panic spread like wildfire. The golden lion’s attempt at trol was drowned in the cacophony of screams and wails. The once-fident Daemons now scrambled in terror, their bloodlust repced with fusion and dread.“We’re utack!”“Where’s it ing from?”“Who dares?!”But no answers came. The Daemons were blind to the source of their torment, their frustration mounting with every passing sed.

  Elizabeth’s voice cut through the chaos over the unicator. “The sed explosion was effective. The Daemons are scattered. Ready to advance.”

  Elizabeth's voice brimmed with delight as she pulled the trigger, her grin widening. "There's a little bird singing in my heart," she decred cheerfully. "Kayvaan, if you keep delivering battles like this, I’m pretty sure the girls will fall head over heels for you. Who could resist a captain like that? But you know what? I want more—I want this happio keep growing." Her sh out over the chaos: "Heavy ons team, step forward! Set up and fire freely once you're in position!"

  Moments ter, the unmistakable roar of the Vul gun echoed through the s. Even the power-armored bat sisters couldn’t wield such a devastating on without care. They quickly secured a defensible spot, anch the massive on. Then, the storm began—a hail of bolt rounds slig through the battlefield like a scythe. The relentless barrage shredded anything in its path, sparing no Daemon foolish enough to stand before it.

  Meanwhile, ihe chaotic camp, some Daemons finally realized the danger outside. But their attempts tanize and ter were cut short—literally. Bolt rounds screamed through the air, drilling into their skulls with deadly precision before erupting in violent explosions. Amid the chaos, Kayvaan moved silently out of cover, his sniper rifle steady in his hands. Each pull of the trigger brought him a quiet satisfa as another Daemon fell, their lifeless bodies colpsing amidst the age.

  The Golden Lion’s furious roar tore through the battlefield as he shed out at everything around him. "Who did this? What miserable bastard dared ruin my performance?!" His voice was raw with rage as he turned on his own subordinates, g and striking at anything that moved.

  This was an insult like no other. No one had ever humiliated him like this—sughtering his followers, wreg his grand spectacle, and dragging his dignity through the muck. It was a bitter irony, one he despised. He oftehese very roles: the predator sowing panic among prey, turning his performances into grotesque mockeries of human order. Yet now, the tables had turned, and he was the one being toyed with—an ironic twist that cut deeper than any bde.

  The Golden Lion had reveled in tless performances, unleashing chaos on terrified crowds and chasing them down like prey. But now, his own circus of Daemons was reduced to a panicked, mindless rabble, scattering before an invisible ehat mocked him from the shadows. The fury in his chest burned hotter with every passing sed. He couldn't deny the cause of this disaster. That damn unstable gate was the root of it all. When his circus crossed into the Materium, they’d barely survived. The treacherous passage through the Immaterium had torn apart his stro officers, leaving him with nothing but dregs—mindless, gibbering on fodder. Without his officers to keep order, the lowest of his kin ran wild, incapable of coherent a.

  The Golden Lion had cursed the gate as soon as he saw it, knowing the risks. A, by some cruel twist of fate—or perhaps the twisted favor of Sanesh—he alone had survived intact. Most of his subordinates weren’t so lucky. Their forms had been shredded by the unstable energies, their essence lost forever in the void. Those who made it through were broken, and the ones left behind were even worse: mindless imbeciles driven purely by primal urges. He grabbed a hapless, eyeless Daemon that scurried past him and, with a roar, ripped it in half. Blood sprayed over his golden mane as he snarled, "Who dares humiliate me like this? If you have any ce, e out and face me! Stop hiding in the dark like a coward!"

  Outside the tent, Elizabeth felt the pressure mounting. tinuous firing had pushed several ons to their limits, the barrels glowing red-hot. It was time to ge tactics. "Fmethrower team, step forward!" she anded, her voice sharp and clear. Two Sisters of Battle carrying the iic fmers of the Adepta Sororitas advao the front lines. "When you’re ready, light it up. Let these remnants of Chaos feel the Emperor’s judgment. Give them a proper, fiery wele."

  Twis of golden fme roared forth, flooding the tent’s entran holy fire. The purifying bze ed everything it touched, burning away the un and vile. Elizabeth watched the inferno with closed eyes, inhaling deeply as if sav a fine wihe screams of the dying Daemons mixed with the acrid st of scorched flesh, a sickly-sweet aroma that made her shiver with dark satisfa.

  There was no greater moment in her life than this—standing amidst the sughter of Chaos abominations. Only in these brutal acts of destru did Elizabeth feel a fleeting sense of fulfillment. Yet even in the euphoria, she khe void in her heart would return, deeper and darker. It was a cruel cycle, an unending thirst for vengeand blood that Chaos had carved into her soul. They had stolen her glory, leaving oiness behind. Now, she would spend her life repaying that debt in their blood. She thought briefly of Marcellia, her old rade. "One day, I’ll find you," Elizabeth muttered to herself. "I still owe you a bullet, and I won’t miss this time."

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