A few minutes later, the agonized roars of the massive Slaughterbrute echoed through the forge as its flesh burned beneath relentless, terrifying flames.
Gripping the severed, horned head of the fallen Herald of Khorne—its lifeless eyes still wide with unwillingness—you strode toward the tightly shut gates of the forge.
With a casual toss, you hurled the blood-soaked head at the metal doors, producing a deafening crash.
Your azure wolf-like eyes narrowed slightly.
You could feel the conflicting forces within you—the relentless influx of Khorne's blessing clashing with the purging Warp flames.
A grin spread across your face, revealing your Frostfang.
Taking a deep breath, you addressed the Khorne-aligned forge masters hiding behind the gates.
You offered them a choice.
Any smith willing to assist in reforging your power armor would be granted the privilege of being spared—for now.
Perhaps, they might even earn a small measure of the Blood God's favor.
Of course, those who chose to resist were welcome to attack.
However, any assailants would first have to endure the purifying flames of psychic wrath.
If they managed to survive—however barely—you would turn and leave without another word.
The heavy metal gates slowly creaked open.
One by one, the Khorne-forged artisans emerged, their twisted faces filled with frenzied devotion.
They knelt before you, their lips chanting prayers and war cries in Khorne's name.
At that moment, Draigo approached, his storm shield held firmly in one hand as he strode to your side.
His white beard quivered slightly as he narrowed his eyes, scanning the scene of increasingly fervent Chaos worshippers.
"Young warrior of the Space Wolves… perhaps allowing you to reforge your power armor here was a mistake," Draigo sighed heavily, his voice low and thoughtful.
Your brow furrowed as you turned to face him.
Draigo's expression remained solemn as he advised you to leave with him immediately.
Khorne's attention upon you could bring unforeseen dangers.
There were many places in the Warp untouched by the Four Gods.
For example, the lawless, chaotic Abyss of the Formless—a domain teeming with Dark Mechanicus foundries devoted to Chaos in its purest form.
It was there that Draigo himself had once raided a forge, repairing his Terminator armor and resupplying his bolt rounds while purging heretical traitors along the way.
You lowered your head in thought.
Your gaze fell upon the Blade of Vengeance gripped in your palm.
You focused on the lingering Warp flames within your body.
Then, with a slight shake of your head, you politely refused Draigo's well-intended offer.
Draigo gave a slow nod, making no move to force you from your chosen path.
Instead, he made one request: he would aid you in purging the corruption from your daemon-infused equipment.
Without hesitation, you accepted.
Together, you and Draigo stepped past the kneeling Chaos smiths and entered the forge.
The Khorne-forged artisans rose to their feet, forming a circle around you.
With remarkable skill, they began dismantling your damaged equipment using only simple metal tools.
You allowed them to strip away the remains of your battle-scarred power armor and two incomplete bolt guns.
Meanwhile, you kept both the Blade of Vengeance and the Axe of Khorne firmly in your grasp.
Should anything feel amiss, you were fully prepared to unleash carnage.
Yet, despite their frenzied eyes and unwavering devotion to the Blood God, the Chaos smiths made no move to betray you.
Instead, they measured your physique carefully, inquiring about your specifications for the new power armor.
"My only demand is that it be as durable and resilient as possible," you replied with a toothy grin, your azure eyes gleaming. "After all, even daemon-slaying requires a little protection."
Several of the Chaos smiths instinctively swallowed hard.
They quickened their pace, finalizing their calculations before swiftly retreating to begin their work.
You watched as massive daemon forges roared to life in the distance, their blood-red flames rising high into the air.
The deafening clang of metal rang out as countless hammers struck molten steel.
Stepping past the busy artisans, you approached Draigo, who stood grim-faced—ever prepared to purge the Chaos-infested foundry at a moment's notice.
You asked him about the method for cleansing daemon-tainted weapons and armor.
"If we were in the material realm, I would advise seeking a Chaplain of your Chapter," Draigo replied, his white beard shifting as he spoke. "The process would involve intricate rites, prolonged rituals, and constant prayers."
"However, since we are within the Warp, the method is far simpler."
Draigo raised his massive gauntleted hand, and at his fingertips, a flickering flame of pure psychic energy ignited.
In an instant, you understood.
If the Emperor's fire could incinerate daemons, it could also purge the Chaos that clung to weapons and armor.
You glanced down at the Axe of Khorne resting in your grasp.
For now, you decided against testing the purification process.
You would first need a proper vessel to contain Khorne's blessing.
Patiently, you awaited the completion of your new power armor.
All around you, Khorne's forge masters tirelessly worked, moving back and forth between the roaring daemon forges and the assembly lines.
Molten metal continuously flowed, giving birth to searing-hot armor plates—each piece meticulously crafted to perfection.
With every newly forged component, the Chaos smiths gathered to chant their prayers.
You made no effort to stop them.
Before your eyes, a new power armor took form—far superior in defense and functionality compared to your previous suit.
Time passed.
Finally, the last piece was set into place—a crimson shoulder plate, adorned with brutal, jagged horns.
Draigo, who had remained silent until now, suddenly reached out and patted your shoulder.
You gave a slight nod.
Together, you and Draigo stepped forward to inspect the completed armor.
It was a fearsome sight—covered in thick plating, each joint reinforced, and every limb adorned with vicious spikes.
Taking a deep breath, you followed Draigo's teachings, guiding the Warp flames within you to seep into the armor.
At the same time, Draigo raised his hand, his psychic flames flaring to life once more.
Carefully, he aided you in the purification process.
Then, without warning, a surge of power erupted within you.
The Warp flames inside your body swelled violently.
An uncontrollable inferno surged from your very pores, engulfing your entire form.
The roaring blaze spread outward, consuming everything in its path.
In an instant, countless Chaos smiths were reduced to ash—screaming as they perished.
Only Draigo remained untouched, his eyes widening slightly as he observed the phenomenon.
At that moment, the raging Warp flames abruptly withdrew.
From the dissipating fire, a towering figure emerged behind you—its three-meter-tall, headless form a mere shadow, yet radiating an overwhelming presence.
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