Reborn as Humanity’s Emperor Across the Multiverse

Rou~——!

Tyberos's massive form moved like a war machine instantly set into motion. Though his towering figure appeared bulky, it displayed astonishing agility as he leapt forward in a flash.

The sound of air being violently torn apart followed in his wake, like a steel meteor streaking across the battlefield.

Boom—rumble—!!

With an earth-shattering crash, Tyberos's magnetic boots slammed into the enemy ranks.

The corrupted ground buckled under the immense impact, sending thick mud and viscous green ichor spraying in all directions like a fountain, shrouding the area in a filthy rain.

"Waaa~!"

"Yaa—!"

The heretical creatures nearby, particularly the bloated "little ones," were crushed into unrecognizable pulp by Tyberos's thunderous arrival.

The sound of rupturing pustules mixed with sharp screams, echoing across the battlefield.

Smaller, twisted creatures were flung away by the shockwave, their mangled forms slamming into the ranks of their own kin further back.

But Tyberos's assault didn't end there.

The moment he landed, he stood like an unshakable mountain. His chainsaw power claws rose in a fluid motion, carving arcs of crimson through the air.

Bzzzt—screech—shred!

The claws crackled with crimson plasma arcs, their high-frequency vibrations and rotating chains emitting a piercing screech that could make one's scalp crawl.

As the claws swept through the enemy, the heretical creatures around him were shredded like paper, their dismembered limbs and corrupted blood spraying outward, thickening the stench of decay in the air.

The gruesome blend of ichor and mangled flesh turned the battlefield into Tyberos's personal slaughterhouse.

Every move he made was precise and lethal, a masterful display of "the art of killing." Any heretic foolish enough to approach him was swiftly reduced to lifeless fragments.

"Roar—!!"

Yet even the grotesquely swollen Ghostface Clans, now reaching nearly four meters tall due to their corruption, showed no fear of Tyberos's brutal display.

Their bloated bodies, covered in pustules and writhing tendrils, wielded corrupted power hammers that had fused with their arms and hands, becoming inseparable extensions of their bodies.

Uttering low, guttural growls, they charged Tyberos in an attempt to overwhelm him through sheer numbers.

Each step they took left deep imprints in the muddy ground, splattering foul liquids in every direction.

To the Ghostface Clans, Tyberos's act of charging alone into their midst was nothing short of suicidal.

Though they had never been able to match an Astartes in one-on-one combat, they believed their newfound strength from their "benevolent father" would make up for it—especially when attacking in a group.

Unfortunately for them, Tyberos was no ordinary Astartes.

He was not someone the Ghostface Clans could hope to overcome simply through numbers.

Even with the "blessings" bestowed by their new masters, these creatures were far from capable of challenging him.

As they attempted to form a circle around him, Tyberos's figure suddenly blurred, transforming into a nearly imperceptible shadow.

His speed was so great that even his own company guards had difficulty keeping track of his movements.

Tyberos moved with the grace of a deadly dance, his chainsaw power claws the centerpiece of his performance.

Bzzzt—shred—!

The screeching sound of the rotating chains filled the air as the claws cut through corrupted flesh and ichor, scattering them in all directions.

In mere moments, the Ghostface Clans' coordinated assault disintegrated.

Their massive bodies were sliced into pieces with surgical precision, their remains falling uselessly to the ground.

One Ghostface Clan warrior, attempting to swing its power hammer, didn't even have the chance to complete the motion before its arm, along with half its torso, was severed and sent flying into the foul swamp below.

In less than a heartbeat, Tyberos had effortlessly dismantled all those who dared to come close.

Then, he suddenly stopped, his cold, crimson-lit visor locking onto the last Ghostface warrior as it emerged from the shadows.

…!!

The Ghostface warrior froze instantly.

Its movements became stiff, and the emptiness in its eyes seemed to clear, replaced by a fleeting moment of lucidity.

Terror overwhelmed its frenzy and bloodlust as it stared blankly at the carnage around it—the shredded remains of its kin—and took an instinctive step back.

Its pustules and tendrils quivered in fear, betraying its desperation and instinct to flee.

"Heh. Trash is still trash."

Tyberos sneered, his metallic voice dripping with contempt.

Before the creature could react, Tyberos's chainsaw power claw lashed out like the talon of a true demon, gripping the Ghostface warrior's head with terrifying force.

Splat—crunch—!!

The horrifying sound of flesh and bone being torn apart echoed as the chainsaw claw tore the creature's head into shreds. Foul ichor and putrid fluids splattered everywhere, further contaminating the already-decayed ground.

Its body collapsed like a broken rag doll, lifeless and motionless.

But Tyberos didn't stop there. He raised his boot and stomped down on the remains, crushing them completely to ensure it could not rise again.

Though the heretic seemed truly dead, Tyberos would not make the mistake of leaving an enemy with any chance of survival.

This was only the beginning.

Tyberos continued his relentless advance, his massive form like a steel fortress, unstoppable and implacable.

Ri——bang bang bang!

The rotary bolter mounted on his power pack roared to life, spewing streams of fire as it unleashed a torrent of explosive rounds into the distant waves of heretical creatures.

The 1.0-caliber explosive bolts were devastating against these twisted abominations, reducing their bloated, corrupted bodies to shredded remains.

Even more spectacularly, the bolts' metal-hydrogen reaction warheads triggered brilliant explosions—

Boom—BOOM—!!!

Miniature suns ignited across the dark expanse of the underground city, their pure, "warm" light starkly contrasting with the sickly vitality permeating the area.

Fragile structures collapsed in the blasts, and the tentacle-like living vegetation was burned to ash. Heretical hordes clustered together for an attack were obliterated without leaving a trace.

Tyberos's ammo reserves were vast. His power pack's storage compartment held over six thousand explosive rounds, allowing him to sustain this relentless barrage for an extended duration.

Moreover, he still had access to his micro-missile launchers, armed with tactical metal-hydrogen warheads, capable of annihilating the entire underground city if necessary.

In terms of sheer firepower and psychological impact, Tyberos, the leader of the Carcharodons, was single-handedly crushing an enemy force many times his size.

Meanwhile, the other corners of the battlefield were equally chaotic.

"Die! Hahaha! Die!"

"For the Raven Guard! For the Emperor!!"

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

The savage, metallic war cries of the Carcharodon company guards echoed through the underground city.

Each shout carried a mix of excitement, fervor, and a hint of manic glee.

The Carcharodons displayed their most brutal side, abandoning the Raven Guard's usual tactics of stealth and precision in favor of direct, unrelenting combat.

They were like a pack of bloodthirsty sharks, enraged and fearless, charging headlong into the heretical tide that outnumbered them by the thousands.

The company guards moved with a deadly grace, their combat techniques mirroring the violent efficiency of their captain.

When their bolters ran dry, they wasted no time, magnetically locking the weapons to their leg plates and switching to their melee weapons—long-handled power axes, spears, and chainsaw axes.

These tools became instruments of indiscriminate carnage, slicing through the corrupted and grotesque enemies with ease.

Bzzt—crunch!

The howls of chainsaw axes mixed with the wet sound of flesh being torn apart, forming a macabre symphony in the foul air.

The battlefield quickly turned into a bloody "meat grinder" under the onslaught of the company guards.

From an aerial perspective, the edge of the swamp was covered in corrupted green ichor and chunks of flesh, resembling hell itself descending upon the city.

This savage, unrelenting style of combat starkly contrasted with the Raven Guard's usual image.

No longer the stealthy, precise operatives they were known to be, the Carcharodons now resembled frenzied predators, reveling in bloodshed and the "satisfaction" of slaughter.

Perhaps Tyberos's unorthodox leadership had influenced the entire company, transforming them into an even more brutal and deadly force.

From a tactical standpoint, the logical approach would have been to hold their ground and wait for reinforcements from the 2nd and 3rd assault platoons.

Once their positions were secure, the fleet could deploy the 4th and 5th support platoons, along with additional bio-mechanical weaponry.

This methodical buildup would allow the Carcharodons to establish a strong foothold in the underground city, creating strategic nodes for further advancement. Once the reinforcements arrived and the area was secured, the core forces of the company—including Tyberos, the company champions, and the heavily armed company guards—could then push deeper into enemy territory.

Under the cover of heavy artillery, specialized operative teams could target key objectives such as locating the source of the Chaos corruption, gathering critical intel on potential future Warp incursions, or even attempting to capture high-value heretical individuals for interrogation and further intelligence extraction.

However, such a carefully planned and meticulous operation was clearly not the Carcharodons' style, at least not under Tyberos's leadership.

Instead of holding their ground, Tyberos and his company guards showed no interest in waiting for reinforcements.

On the contrary, they chose a far bolder, even reckless path: plunging deep into enemy lines with just a hundred-man unit, actively expanding the battlefield and creating a deeper operational zone.

Their objective was to buy time and create an opening for their reinforcements to land and deploy without interference.

This combat strategy, which defied conventional tactics, bordered on madness.

In fact, such audacious moves—taking on overwhelming enemy forces without any regard for retreat—were typically only seen from Primarchs leading their Honor Guards.

After all, the Primarchs had the raw power to decimate even the most formidable foes.

Granted, Primarchs had at times been outmaneuvered by Chaos forces in the Warp, falling into traps due to a lack of understanding of their malevolent nature.

But even when trapped, the Emperor's unique connection to his Primarchs often allowed him to intervene and assist them, mitigating catastrophic losses.

For example, the Dark Angels' captain from the Trench Crusade universe once led his company champions and guards on a daring charge into the depths of a hellish dimension. His boldness was driven by a desire to outshine both Athena and the Grey Knights, and his intelligence suggested that his forces had the means to cut through hell itself.

Though the captain nearly faced annihilation when confronting the demonic overlord Satan, his sheer willpower and loyalty to the Emperor saved him at the last moment. The Emperor, witnessing the event through his psychic presence, provided critical support, preventing total disaster.

As for the Carcharodons...

Their loyalty and faith in the Emperor were unquestionable, but whether they could replicate the Dark Angels' success was far from certain.

Even so, Tyberos and his company guards seemed utterly undeterred.

As they began their "reverse encirclement" of the seemingly endless waves of heretics, the two hovering Knight Mechs above the battlefield didn't remain idle.

Seeing their captain and brothers rapidly expand the battlefront, the Carcharodon pilots operating the Knight Mechs immediately activated their full weapon systems.

The 140mm plasma cannons and 80mm Gauss needle rifles erupted with blinding energy beams in the dark confines of the underground city, tearing through the distant masses of heretical creatures.

The concentrated firepower of the Knight Mechs not only obliterated the advancing enemy forces but also provided impeccable fire support for Tyberos and the company guards.

Boom—BOOM!

At the same time, more than five hundred Carcharodons from the 2nd and 3rd assault platoons, who had been waiting at the surface, began their descent.

Using the same freefall method as their captain, they dropped through the passage leading into the underground city, landing one after another near the edge of the swamp.

Thanks to Tyberos and the company guards' ferocious assault, the 2nd and 3rd platoons encountered minimal resistance during their landing. The heretics were too preoccupied with the chaos Tyberos had sown in their ranks.

"Hahaha! Save some of those bastards for me, brothers!"

"Die! DIE!!"

"Offer their damned souls to the Emperor! Hahaha! Glory! GLORY!"

As they touched down and stabilized their positions, the five hundred Carcharodons unleashed their own war cries—fervent, savage, and laced with an almost unhinged excitement.

Without hesitation, they joined the fray, coordinating with Tyberos and the company guards to complete a reverse encirclement of the heretical tide.

The result was a battlefield that could only be described as pure carnage.

From above, the scene at the edge of the swamp resembled a swirling vortex of violence, where the corrupted green blood and ichor of the heretics mixed with shattered remains of their twisted forms.

The Carcharodons moved with precision and brutality, methodically closing in on the heretical forces that had once seemed endless.

Their unconventional tactics created a unique advantage. By plunging deep into enemy territory, they disrupted the heretics' cohesion and forced them to redirect their forces.

This chaos prevented the heretical army from forming a unified counterattack, giving the Carcharodons an edge despite their numerical disadvantage.

The Knight Mechs maintained their relentless bombardment from above, carving through the enemy ranks and collapsing the corrupted structures of the underground city.

The 2nd and 3rd assault platoons rapidly established a secure landing zone, allowing additional reinforcements to descend into the battle.

Although Tyberos's tactics defied traditional military logic, the Carcharodons' sheer ferocity, combined with their advanced weaponry and unwavering faith in the Emperor, seemed to turn the tide of the battle.

For now, the heretical tide was being driven back, and the Carcharodons' relentless advance continued deeper into the heart of the corrupted underground city.

But as the battle raged on, the eerie laughter and whispers of Chaos began to intensify.

The deeper they pushed, the stronger the sense of unease became, as if the heretical forces were deliberately luring them further into the abyss.

And Tyberos, standing at the forefront of the charge, knew that the true horrors of Chaos had yet to reveal themselves.

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