"I claim your skull, mortal!" Skarbrand thundered, surging toward Marius Amalrich, brass hooves cracking stone.
"Uphold the Emperor's Honor!" Amalrich roared back, his Black Sword raised high, righteous fury blazing in his voice.
Their clash was apocalyptic — blade met axe, sparks shearing through the gloom. The chamber trembled beneath their fury, warpfire wreathing them both in crimson and gold.
Guilliman watched, jaw tight. Each Astartes death was a weight upon his soul. His fingers flexed on the grip of his Sword, waiting for his opening.
At last, Amalrich ducked a sweeping axe blow, rolled beneath it, and drove his sword deep into Skarbrand's flank.
"For the Emperor!"
A bellow of pain split the chamber. The wound, though shallow by daemon standards, didn't immediately heal.
Guilliman's eyes narrowed. That was the moment.
"Enough." His voice cut through bolter fire and daemonic roars alike, cold as a glacier's heart. "We end this."
Around him, Harlequins weaved through daemons like phantoms in a cruel, mocking dance. One vaulted over a shrieking Horror of Tzeentch, twin blades flashing in elegant arcs as warpfire sprayed harmlessly beneath their steps.
"The stage is yours, Lord of Ultramar," Sylandri Veilwalker called, voice lilting with unsettling mirth.
"All units — converge!" Guilliman voxed sharply. "Clear the flanks. Focus fire!"
The Honour Guard surged forward, bolters roaring. Guilliman charged headlong, his burning blade meeting the daemon's twin axes. The impact cracked the corrupted floor, sending shockwaves through the stone.
At that same moment, the nearby Shinobi battle units moved into position.
"Suppressive fire only — low setting! Too many friendlies in the crossfire zone!" Seiji ordered, flicking a hand signal.
Rail carbines hissed, discharging Mach-3 rounds — their low-power, anti-armor saboted rounds streaking through the air, hammering into Skarbrand's outer hide. The impacts sparked against daemonhide, tearing shallow gouts of ichor but lacking the full armor-cracking force of Bruno's earlier Mach-7 shot.
"Minimal effect, Commander!" a Shinobi marksman voxed over the link. "Target's hide too reinforced at this setting."
"Maintain suppression! Buy the sealing team time!" Seiji snapped.
Monoblade units lunged through gaps in the daemonic lines, carving down lesser horrors attempting to swarm the exposed flank. The coordination between Shinobi, Harlequin, and Honour Guard remained tight, every movement calculated to avoid friendly fire while bleeding the daemon horde's strength.
"Weapons ineffective!" an Ultramarine barked. "Daemonhide's resisting conventional rounds!"
Guilliman gritted his teeth. The Primarch's gene-forged strength met daemonic fury, but even so, Skarbrand's raw power threatened to overwhelm. They needed to pin him down.
That's when the Shinobi struck.
"Sealing teams, with me!" she shouted, leading the surviving specialists toward Skarbrand's flank. Their monoblades deflected warp-formed claws, EFA spitting bursts of purifying flame and liquid ferrocrete.
The first barrage struck Skarbrand's right side — alchemical paste splattering against crimson hide, immediately followed by torrents of water and superheated flame.
Grey paste erupted, coating Skarbrand's massive frame as sealing glyphs flickered to life. Pressurized water jets doused the paste, followed by searing flame. The ferrocrete-like shell hardened, locking the daemon's limbs for a heartbeat
Naon didn't hesitate. She pushed deeper, Jutsu seals flickering around her hands. "Second wave — anchor him!"
The Shinobi deployed more binding canisters, fusing Skarbrand's lower limbs to the floor in quick, brutal sequence.
The daemon howled in rage, axes straining against the hardened bonds, shattering them in seconds. But even that moment was enough.
Skarbrand roared, in mere seconds, fissures already spidering his prison.
Naon stepped forward, furious. "I'll rip you apart myself." Her EFA drew purified warp power, sigils flaring as she formed rapid hand seals. A cube-like artifact deployed at her side, power swelling.
"Naon — disengage!" Seiji's voice cut in over command vox.
She whirled. "He crippled Bruno! He deserves worse!"
"We stick to the mission! That's an order! You will burn psychic power needed for the mission" Seiji barked.
Her eyes blazed behind her mask, teeth clenched — but after a long second, she relented, lowering her hands. "Understood… Commander."
Meanwhile, Guilliman who saw his chance immediately strikes.
The cement fissures, and the wound left by Amalrich's strike gaped open. With a defiant roar, the Primarch drove the Emperor's Sword deep into Skarbrand's chest, cleaving through warp flesh and daemonic essence.
"Back to the hell you spawned from!" Guilliman snarled.
The daemon shrieked, form convulsing, warpfire bleeding from its ruined core. In a burst of blinding, reeking light, Skarbrand's body imploded, essence dragged screaming back into the Immaterium.
The tide of daemons faltered. As the anchors was sent back unto the warp.
Warp rifts began to shrink, unstable flickers of unreality closing. The surviving daemons turned, fading into warp-light or falling to bolter and railgun fire.
"All units — mop up stragglers. Consolidate casualties. Extraction in ten." Seiji voxed coldly.
Guilliman, breathing hard, lowered his sword. He turned to Amalrich — bloodied, armor shattered but standing.
"Well fought, Champion."
"For the Emperor, Lord Primarch." Amalrich coughed blood, but smiled grimly.
Guilliman then eyed Seiji's force, lingering on Naon and Bruno's prone form.
"You fought well. We'll finish this together."
Seiji gave a curt nod. "By the mission, Lord Primarch."
As the survivors regrouped amid the daemon-charred chamber where dying warp echoes still whispered and faces melted back into the living stone.".
"Form up," Guilliman encourage all the survivor. "Take heart! There is still a way out of this hell."