Emrys was unwilling to dwell on the strange vision in his dream, or rather, he was too lazy to delve into the deeper meaning behind it.
Anyway, he couldn't escape it, so he might as well take it one step at a time and deal with it when the time came.
Then, he looked around.
"Wait, wait a minute—why am I here?!" After waking up, Emrys felt extremely unfamiliar with everything around him.
A dilapidated wooden house, old and cluttered furnishings. He even saw several pottery jars with a strong historical artifact feel, and the wooden bowl used for medicine also had several chips.
In the corner of the room, there were also several bags of moldy rice.
This was clearly not his battleship.
It was more like a dwelling in a backward, primitive agricultural civilization—could he have transmigrated again?!
This thought only lingered in Emrys' mind for a few seconds before he dismissed it.
No, he should still be on the Warhammer.
The reason was simple: Emrys checked his Traveler and found that his spatiotemporal positioning was still in the main universe, and there was no secondary transmigration.
But… this was a bit strange!
Before he fainted, he was clearly thrown into the shadow by Corax. Logically, he should have returned to his ship, so why was he here?
And what was this place?!
A jumble of disorganized thoughts, like an entangled ball of yarn, troubled Emrys.
He was wrapped in thick strips of cloth, which somewhat hindered Emrys' movement, but as he lowered his head, he fell into a long silence.
These strips of cloth... were not sterilized!
It wasn't just that they weren't sterilized; these cloth strips were even moldy, with some dried blood stains remaining, emitting an indescribable stench.
Very good.
Emrys sighed and removed the cloth strips.
He was sincerely grateful for his extraordinary physique; otherwise, just these moldy, stinking, blackened cloth strips would have been enough to infect his wounds and claim his life!
This room was made of a few broken pieces of wood, barely pieced together to form a 'room' that was drafty everywhere. He suspected that a slightly stronger wind could blow this dilapidated room away.
After removing the cloth strips, the herbs underneath were revealed.
Someone must have carried him here after he fainted and given him simple treatment.
Although simple, it was undeniably effective.
Emrys had regained his mobility. After checking, he found that his power sword, bolter, noble attire, and almost everything on him had been taken.
The only things left were the bound Traveler System and the 'Tremendous Venerable' belt.
But unfortunately, the Tremendous Venerable had been shattered in the battle with the daemon Prince Loga. To repair it, he would have to find Optimus Prime.
"No hurry yet—" Emrys was not in a hurry. The lost items were not important; he wanted to figure out where he was first.
Although the effects of his injuries still lingered, he had a private space where a large amount of emergency equipment was stored, specifically to deal with such situations that might arise.
So, even if he encountered danger, as long as it didn't involve a 'Primarch,' he still had some confidence.
He couldn't possibly encounter a Primarch again, could he?!
Emrys shook his head and quickly banished this thought from his mind.
What kind of international joke was this?
One encounter was deadly enough; Heaven forbid he encountered one again.
After taking out a relatively simple set of clothes from his private space and changing into them, Emrys pushed open the wooden door and walked out.
Outside, it was already late, and there was an open space where many people, in tattered clothes, emaciated, with ashen faces, as if they had lost all hope, sat around a fire, on the ground.
A cauldron was set over the fire, with something stewing inside, steaming hot and emitting the aroma of food.
Seeing Emrys emerge from the room, no one questioned him.
Emrys frowned slightly, observing carefully, and found that the expressions of the people here were almost all the same, completely lifeless, it would not be an exaggeration to call them walking corpses.
"Hello?"
He tried to ask one of the elders.
The old man looked up, his dim and cloudy eyes staring at him for a few seconds, but he did not respond, only pointing to the large pot, indicating for Emrys to serve himself some food.
"elder, may I ask where this place is?" Emrys persisted, unwilling to give up.
But unfortunately, the old man no longer wished to speak, lowering his head and remaining silent, like a stone statue.
Helpless, Emrys could only turn to ask others, but the result was almost the same. No one was willing to talk to him, and everyone's face bore that expression of having lost all hope for the future.
Just as Emrys felt puzzled, he suddenly saw a burly figure emerge from the distant forest.
"This is Kamas."
The burly figure spoke, and as he approached, he fully came into Emrys' view.
The person was carrying the carcass of a dead beast on his shoulder, which Emrys didn't recognize, but from its fierce fangs, it seemed to be a carnivorous predator.
The man looked as if he hadn't trimmed his beard in a long time, so much so that half of his face was covered in it, and what was most striking was the scar on his face, extending from his brow bone to his jaw, almost bisecting his entire face.
Although he was old, his eyes still held an undeniable sharpness.
But these were not what shocked Emrys the most. What shocked him the most was that although the other person was wearing old, tattered cloth to simply cover himself, through the almost torn openings, he could see the ancient and faded armor underneath the cloth!
That was Power Armor!
Coupled with his height of over two meters and his burly, muscular physique, this was clearly a Space Marine!
"I found you in the forest." The other person, carrying the beast, threw the carcass aside, then scooped a bowl of meat stew from the simmering iron pot with a worn wooden bowl and handed it to Emrys.
"Eat your fill, then leave here quickly."
Emrys took the wooden bowl, but the doubt in his eyes grew heavier.
"Who—are you?"
The man was silent for a few seconds.
"That's none of your business."
"You're a Space Marine?" Emrys secretly raised his guard, but wasn't too nervous.
He was no longer the same as he used to be.
Even if he faced a Space Marine head-on, he wouldn't lose, let alone the fact that he was also a psyker!
"You ask too many questions."
The other person was clearly unwilling to answer the question, his tone sounding a bit impatient, with a hint of coldness in his eyes.
"You're not welcome here. Once you've eaten—leave quickly."
"You saved me, and now you want to drive me away?"
Emrys said helplessly.
"Besides, I don't even know where this place is. What if I encounter danger again?"
The man was silent for a few seconds, then pointed in a direction.
"Walk one hundred and seventy kilometers in this direction, and you'll reach the hive city of this world. With your identity, it shouldn't be difficult to find a way back."
"You know who I am?"
Emrys raised an eyebrow.
"Rogue Trader." The other person grew even more impatient, his eyes filled with annoyance.
"I have no obligation to answer your questions. Your presence will only bring trouble here. Don't force me to throw you out. If you understand, eat quickly and then scram!"
"Alright, alright, I understand, don't be so agitated—"
Emrys pretended to beg for mercy, but in reality, his gaze remained fixed on the man, trying to find a mark that could prove his identity.
Just then, a child walked over, holding a wooden bowl.
He rarely showed a gentle light, bending down to give a piece of the carved beast meat to the child, then raised his hand to pat his head.
But it was this raised hand that caused his clothing to reveal the emblem on his chest armor.
The armor on his chest was severely worn, but the insignia that once symbolized his identity and glory—wings and a longsword—could still be clearly seen!
Emrys' pupils suddenly contracted sharply.
"You are—a Dark Angel? No, you are a Fallen Angel!"
It is well known that there are two absolute taboos in the Imperium, things that must never be spoken of. The first of these is that the First Legion, the Dark Angels, 'have no' secrets.
However, anyone who truly understands the Dark Angels Legion knows that these arrogant Caliban natives, while claiming they have no secrets, are in fact full of it.
If they truly had no secrets, why would they be so tense?
The reasons for the Fallen Angels' emergence and birth are tied to an extremely complex historical relationship that cannot be explained in a few words.
But one thing is beyond doubt:
Daring to expose a Fallen Angel's identity in public will, without question, result in telling the other party to either kill themselves or kill him; there is no other option.
After all, given the nature of the Dark Angels' inner circle, if this information were to leak, they would spare no expense to eliminate everyone who knew about it, then bring the Fallen Angel back to repent under the 'Iron Fist'.
However—Emrys, who deliberately pointed out the other's identity, had not anticipated one thing.
He had assumed that after his identity was exposed, this Fallen Angel would undoubtedly move to kill him without hesitation to ensure his identity remained secret.
But the reality was that Emrys remained on high alert for a long time, yet the other party made no move, continuing to carve up the beast's meat.
This made the vigilant Emrys, standing by, seem somewhat ridiculous.
Only after these tasks were completed did the other party put down the knife, ladle a bowl of meat broth from the large pot, and slowly walk towards him.
He doesn't look like he's about to make a move!
Emrys was a bit bewildered. He had seen Dark Angels, like Olsen back then, who became enraged and tried to kill him after their identities were revealed.
But—for someone to be so calm, as if completely unconcerned, was truly strange!
Holding the meat broth, the other party seemed completely unfazed by the wary Emrys, sitting directly beside him and silently drinking the oily broth from a worn wooden bowl.
"You—"
Emrys couldn't quite figure out what this Fallen Angel was planning.
"When you're done drinking, leave quickly."
The other party kept repeating this phrase, as if completely unconcerned about the consequences of his identity being exposed.
"Aren't you afraid that I'll go back and expose your identity?" Emrys became interested, staring at him meaningfully.
"You should know better than I do how tempting a Fallen Angel is to the Dark Angels, right?"
"Those madmen dared to invade Caliban, let alone here."
"Are you done talking?"
The Fallen Angel finished his broth in a few sips, then calmly looked at him.
In those weathered eyes, Emrys saw no fear or anger, only deep weariness and a faint trace of guilt.
"Why didn't you kill me?"
Emrys looked him directly in the eye.
"As a Fallen Angel, you should know what your fate will be if you don't kill me here and the information leaks out."
However, this statement brought a strange expression to the Fallen Angel's face. He stared at Emrys for a long time before slowly saying, "If I could have killed you, I wouldn't have saved you in the first place."
"What do you mean?"
Emrys was baffled by this statement.
"This forest is the most dangerous area on this world," the Fallen Angel replied, dodging the question. "The place where you collapsed is in the deepest, most secluded, and safest part of this forest, but—" "If it weren't for a coincidence, no one would have found your location even in a few hundred years."
"Does that have anything to do with what you're saying?"
Emrys blinked, asking in confusion.
"Yes." The Fallen Angel nodded, recalling the scene.
"I would regularly go into the forest to hunt large beasts to provide food, furs, and other resources for this tribe, but on the day I saved you—I encountered a K'zarro, which is a small herbivore here."
At this point, the Fallen Angel looked at him meaningfully.
"I originally intended to kill it with an arrow, but—it seemed to have anticipated the path of my arrow."
"And then?"
Emrys' interest was piqued.
"The first time, I thought it was an accident," the Fallen Angel slowly said. "But then, the second, the third, up to the tenth time, every arrow I shot was dodged by it without exception. Don't you think that's a miracle?"
Emrys silently agreed.
Although he still didn't know the specific identity of this Fallen Angel, as Space Marines, their reaction times are almost in milliseconds. Let alone shooting a herbivore, even large, fierce beasts are easy for them!
For a small herbivore to repeatedly dodge arrows shot by a Space Marine—what else could it be but a miracle?
The Fallen Angel continued.
"I felt very strange, it was like some kind of guidance, so I chased that K'zarro, crossed ravines, and finally found you, severely wounded, under a tree."
"That tree is the only plant in this forest that can collect water, and its sap is very nutritious."
"And you were lying under that tree, its sap nourished your body, and at the same time provided you shelter from being devoured by beasts."
"I found you because of a 'miracle'."
The Fallen Angel held the worn wooden bowl, his gaze distant, as if lost in thought.
"I thought, perhaps this was the Emperor's message, that he led me to you, and you—perhaps you are the opportunity for us to be freed from the curse."
"You said all that just now to test whether I would kill you, didn't you?"
He sighed and said, "The process of me finding you is only one reason, but there's a second reason: you're a psyker, aren't you? And a rather dangerous one. I don't know if I can kill you, but"
At this point, he suddenly looked at those who had lost hope, a complex and compassionate look in his eyes.
"I don't want to involve them. If I were to fight you, their location would be exposed, and there might be many casualties. I've been here a long time; they call me 'Guardian'."
He slowly put down the wooden bowl and said softly, "But I am not a Guardian. I am just a wandering, shameful, cursed one. They say I saved them, but the one who truly received salvation—it should be me. Because of them, my panicked, uneasy, angry heart has gradually found peace."
The Fallen Angel slowly stood up and looked at Emrys.
"You ask me if I'm afraid of them? My answer is yes, and no."
"I'm afraid of not achieving salvation, I'm afraid of dying misunderstood, I'm afraid I've failed this armor, failed the bloodline within me."
"But I'm also not afraid."
"The events of that year are long past, but even if more time passes, we people cannot escape; we constantly bear humiliation and a curse. These things—it's time to put an end to them."
He turned to Emrys.
"I won't force you to keep my secret, but please, for the sake of these people who saved your life, help me conceal their existence. As for me, after you leave, I will go find another place to await my brothers, to await their arrival."
Emrys was silent for a long time.
Then, he finished the bowl of not-so-good meat broth and said faintly, "May I ask your name?"
The Fallen Angel hesitated for a few seconds, then said bitterly, "Zabriel, a shameful traitor. You don't need to remember my name."
Wait, Zabriel?!
That name sounded somewhat familiar to Emrys.
He seemed to have heard it somewhere before; it sounded like a very famous Dark Angel, and a major event was closely related to him.
What was it again?
Emrys refused to leave.
He always felt that he must have been thrown here for some mission, and besides, he didn't even know where this place was. Leaving rashly would only be more dangerous.
Better to stay here first.
After figuring out the situation, he would contact the battleship or find a way to return.
During the few days he spent with Zabriel, Emrys gained a deeper understanding of this former Dark Angel, now a Fallen Angel.
His mind was very meticulous.
He always took care of everyone in this tribe. Although he was taciturn and didn't like to talk much, he protected this tribe with his actions.
And those people whose faces were full of deathly pallor only showed a glimmer of hope and joy for survival when they saw Zabriel.
They called Zabriel their Guardian.
He was the one who provided food, built shelters, and protected this tribe of old, weak, and sick people, driven out by the hive city, from the beasts of the forest.
That day, Zabriel, as usual, returned to the tribe carrying the huge corpse of a beast.
"It's not very safe here anymore."
After distributing the meat, Zabriel sat with Emrys, a hint of worry in his voice.
"In a few days, we'll have to move to another place."
"What happened?" Emrys asked.
"There are many PDF stationed on the outskirts of the forest." Zabriel's eyes showed a hint of worry as he said, "The movement of the PDF means that there might be danger or a rebellion nearby."
"Is it possible it's just training?"
Emrys said, the movement of PDF could sometimes be training, not just quelling rebellions.
"If it were training, they wouldn't be carrying heavy tanks and other equipment." Zabriel shook his head, refuting his view.
"Tomorrow, I'll go out to find a new settlement. You stay here and protect them."
"Alright."
Emrys agreed.
After all, he had eaten for several days, so it was a way of repaying the kindness.
Suddenly, a series of footsteps came from the forest.
Zabriel was extremely vigilant and immediately turned his head towards the depths of the forest, following the sound.
However, when the moonlight fell on the person in the forest, both Zabriel and Emrys widened their eyes, showing expressions of disbelief.
The person was extremely strong, like a towering mountain. Even a Space Marine would appear small like a mortal in front of him.
His face was stern like raw iron, with sharp cheekbones and jawline, as perfect as a Greek sculpture carved by a knife and axe, possessing both the majesty of a superior and a hint of dominance!
The person was wearing deep green armor, with ancient dark gold patterns etched on the surface, like a profound star map. And the most striking feature was the double-headed Aquila on his chest plate!
One beak pecking a sword, the other holding a flower.
His shoulder pads were engraved with sacred runes, one side bearing the Key of Absolution, the other the Lost Book. Although it was clear that,
this armor had suffered the wear and tear of ages, it still could not conceal its former glory and splendor!
The person stopped in the moonlight. His pale hair was faintly mixed with some gold. His deep eyes and aged face still possessed the charisma of his youth.
His gaze shifted between Emrys and Zabriel, somewhat lost, as if still reminiscing.
"Lion, Lion Primarch—…"
Zabriel uttered the word with pain.
Yes!
Even after ten thousand years, the once valiant and proud Primarch, like a proud Lion, had also been transformed into an old man by the merciless passage of time.
But, that face!
That majestic aura, and that deep green power armor, Zabriel swore, he could never forget!
This scene had appeared in his dreams countless times, the reunion with his genetic father.
But when it truly appeared before him, Zabriel's originally calm heart was suddenly filled with fear, panic, guilt, and even resentment!
The Lion Primarch was also stunned for a few seconds.
For an existence like him, a few seconds might seem quick to ordinary people, but to him, it felt as long as several centuries!
As for Emrys, he was dumbfounded.
His brain was blank for several seconds, like a rock machine. His chaotic thoughts were like tangled wires, almost overloaded.
Lion, Lion Primarch—
The First Legion, Lord of the Dark Angels, the genetic Primarch named Lion Primarch, Lion El'Jonson!
Zabriel? Zabriel?!
Memories rushed back like a fierce tide, flooding Emrys' mind!
It turned out he had misremembered the translated name!
Zabriel was the Dark Angel who played an important role in the Lion Primarch's return storyline, and also the first Angel of Absolution whose sins were pardoned by the Lion Primarch!
Of course, in the Lion Primarch's return storyline, the relationship between the 'father' and 'son' was not as simple as meeting, crying in each other's arms, and then being pardoned of their sins.
What actually happened was—
Before Emrys' thoughts could develop further, he heard the roar of a bolter, piercing the silent night sky of the tribe, and shattering this eerie calm.
It was Zabriel. He was the first to draw his bolter, aiming directly at his former genetic father, the newly returned Lion Primarch, and pulled the trigger.
The rocket-propelled bullet, like a meteor, dragged a dazzling light trail, shooting straight towards the Lion Primarch.
The Lion Primarch raised an eyebrow.
Very good, he liked courageous offspring.
Although he had only recently awakened, he didn't mind moving his body a bit to teach this disrespectful bastard who dared to betray him a lesson, to let him know who was the "dad"!
Almost at the moment the bolter fired, despite having just returned and still being in a dazed state, the Lion Primarch displayed his strength.
Boom!!!
The ground dirt flew up, shaking violently.
The soil for several meters around was almost shaken several meters high, and the Lion Primarch's figure, dragging a violent gale and carrying suffocating pressure, instantly turned into an afterimage!
The bullet grazed the Lion Primarch's shoulder plate, leaving a string of dazzling sparks.
Immediately after, Zabriel was utterly defenseless. The seemingly aged Lion Primarch, with a powerful iron fist, sent him flying backward, breaking trees along the way.
What a fast Primarch!
Emrys was shocked again. If the Raven Lord's style was cunning, unpredictable, and elusive, then the style displayed by the Lion Primarch was an unquestionable crushing and brutal, pure head-on collision!
But after blasting Zabriel away, the Lion Primarch immediately turned his gaze to Emrys, who was "watching the show" beside him.
Buzz!
The moment his eyes met the Lion Primarch's, Emrys' brain buzzed, and he thought, "Oh no, could the Lion Primarch have mistaken me for Zabriel's accomplice?!"
Facts proved that getting close to a Fallen Angel would sooner or later lead to 'retribution'.
Just a thought, it flashed through his mind.
A bone-chilling aura, as if about to be crushed, mixed with a bursting sonic boom, rushed towards Emrys at the same time.
It was the Lion Primarch!
His cold gaze, like a heavy cannon, slammed into his heart!
psyker Barrier!
Almost instinctively, Emrys manipulated his psychic power, setting up several barriers in front of him.
But it was useless!
A few layers of psychic barriers were like white paper in front of the Lion Primarch. With just one step,
the violent air current he stirred up made the barriers emit a shattering wail.
The iron-clad fist was like a roaring Leman Russ tank!
Boom!!!
The already fragile barrier was shattered by this punch.
The surging air current, unleashed with the fist, carried an immense and powerful force, forcefully sending Emrys flying more than ten meters away!
It was no exaggeration.
Emrys felt as if he had been hit in the chest by a Mach-speed missile.
If it weren't for the remnants of the Heaven-Shaking Venerable Armor protecting his internal organs, that punch could have turned him into a candied hawthorn skewer, hanging directly on the Lion Primarch's arm!
Are you kidding me?!
Emrys landed in the ruins, his whole body aching, his bones feeling as if they were about to shatter, his head full of question marks.
To be fair, he had also seen Rogal Dorn.
The strength and speed of these two were completely not on the same level. Were they really both Primarchs created by the Emperor?
Did the Emperor really not play favorites when creating the Primarchs?!
It proved that the Lion of Caliban, the former Sir of the First Legion, despite being old and frail, was still a Lion King, and his fangs were still enough to make enemies tremble.
In fact, from a certain perspective, the aging Lion King, compared to his arrogant and conceited self in his youth, had gained a few more points of composure and steadiness. This change brought by time also made him more dangerous!
Emrys grimaced in pain.
Besides Corvus, this was the first time he had truly experienced the power of a "Primarch."
It was only because the current Lion King was still in a state of having just awakened not long ago. If he were to recover to his peak, the power of that punch just now would probably be more than just blowing up the Sky-Shaker armor.
Here, one could make a somewhat inappropriate horizontal comparison.
The Lion King's personal combat prowess among the Primarchs was not considered top-tier, but even so, suppressing another Primarch, Guilliman, the Lord of the Ultramarines, and beating him violently, should not be a problem.
Robert Guilliman was almost universally recognized as a Primarch with weaker one-on-one combat and personal abilities. However, even so, the newly awakened Guilliman still slaughtered more than a dozen Chaos Space Marines.
In layman's terms, fighting a Primarch one-on-one has a very low chance of winning.
Fighting the Lion King one-on-one is simply seeking death!
The roaring airwaves had not yet subsided when the aged Lion King's gaze, like a heavy bolter, fell upon Emrys.
Just after Emrys was sent flying, the Lion King's super brain, like a precise computer, had already determined the opponent's psychic strength level.
It wasn't very high.
But in a duel, psykers, without exception, have extremely high priority and are unstable factors that must be eliminated first.
Thus, the aged Lion King dragged a shadow, moving as fast as a violent gale, sweeping up a roaring wind dragon, and lunged directly at Emrys.
"Is this guy targeting me?!"
Alarm bells rang in Emrys' mind. Feeling the suffocating pressure, the hairs on his entire body stood on end, and cold air spewed from his pores!
Damn it, I'm in trouble!
He knew the Lion King's plan very well.
For the Lion King, dealing with his disobedient "cub" was just a matter of convenience.
But psykers, who knows what kind of trouble they might attract? So it's a problem that must be solved first. And unfortunately, that target is Emrys!
The surging airwaves, like a dragon, were directly shattered by the Lion King. With that majestic momentum, his aged, weathered face, full of ravines but still resolute as iron, reflected in Emrys' pupils.
"Wait, wait, this is a misunderstanding!"
Emrys blurted out, wanting to explain. At the same time, he hastily summoned the 'Blade of Atropos.' With his power gauntlet on, his personal physique would also receive a leap in improvement.
Relying on the blessing of the Rune, he barely managed to parry the Lion King's strike with his blade.
Miiiii!!!
The clang of metal was like a bronze bell.
A huge sonic wave spread out with the two of them at the center, stirring up the surrounding dust, and the ground, unable to bear the burden, shattered into pieces with a mournful sound.
So heavy!
The tiger's mouth of his right hand, holding "Atropos," was almost torn open, and the blade was still vibrating violently.
Emrys was knocked back several meters by a single blow, his entire body's bones shaking, a burning sensation in his throat, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.
It felt like being hit by a Knight mech!
But the aged Lion King paid no attention to his explanation, or perhaps he simply didn't want to listen.
From the moment he recognized Zaboriel's identity and was attacked by this rebellious 'offspring,' the Lion King's dormant memories awakened. Scene after scene from Caliban flashed before his eyes, further solidifying his belief that anyone with Zaboriel was also an enemy of the Imperium, a minion of Chaos!
Looking at the approaching Lion King, Emrys, in a hurry, took a deep breath. The air filling his lungs made his heart pump blood rapidly, and every part of his limbs, with accelerated blood circulation, bulged with veins.
Bang.
He stomped on the ground, shattering it. Using the force, he gripped the Blade of Atropos and, from top to bottom, fiercely cleaved towards the Lion King's face.
"I said, this is a misunderstanding!!!"
Accompanied by his roar, the Blade of Atropos cut through the air, emitting a dull whooshing sound.
However, in the Lion King's eyes, this was no different from a child's attack. He merely shifted slightly, using his left shoulder guard to collide with the side of the blade, causing the strike to deviate from its original direction.
At the same time, the Lion King's tightly clenched right fist, like a heavy cannon, instantly struck out.
Boom!!! The sound barrier broke.
The explosive sonic boom seemed to overturn this land, making the surrounding tribal people cover their ears in pain.
The terrifying power, along the power fist, came with visible strong winds spreading from the fist's edge!
Just at this critical moment.
Zaboriel, who had been sent flying earlier, had somehow darted up, dragging a broken chainsword. Amidst the buzzing of the sawteeth, he unleashed a shadow, aiming precisely at the Lion King's right arm.
This strike was not for merit, but to relieve Emrys!
But what is a Primarch?
The Lion King demonstrated it perfectly at this moment.
It seemed like a crisis, but the Lion King was calm and collected. He immediately turned, twisting his waist, and spun half a circle on the spot, bringing all his strength to bear. Using his left leg as a pivot, he swept his right leg in a half-circle!
The air roared!
With a sound like tearing cloth, Zaboriel's vision blurred, and then his head took a solid hit from that roundhouse kick.
Bang!
A dull thud, accompanied by the sound of bones shattering, sent Zaboriel flying like a soccer ball!
At the same time, the Lion King's right hand opened, and the bolter inside the power gauntlet fired wildly at Emrys!
Boom boom boom boom...!
Dozens of bolter rounds, at extremely close range, directly hit Emrys' chest. The immense kinetic energy sent him flying several meters.
In just a blink of an eye.
Emrys and Zaboriel were swept aside by the newly awakened aged Lion King with lightning speed, almost completely overwhelmed, with no power to resist!
And the entire process lasted only a few seconds.
"Cough, cough cough—" Emrys' face was bitter. The scenario he had imagined was of himself and Zaboriel temporarily enduring the Lion King's wrath, and then taking the opportunity to explain what had happened here.
But in reality, they didn't even last five seconds!
What was even more cruel was that in the Lion King's highly personal, overwhelming, and violent combat style, they didn't even have time to speak. There was no room for any opportunistic explanations at all.
The Lion King stepped forward, moving extremely fast.
"Lion El'Jonson!"
In his urgency, Emrys didn't care about much else and directly shouted, "Have you forgotten the mission of the Second Imperium? The Imperium is in peril! Guilliman sent me to find you—"
Boom!
The dark green power fist stopped inches from Emrys' face, aimed at his profusely sweating forehead.
"Guilliman?"
Finally, the Lion King spoke.
His eyes held a hint of suspicion as he stared directly at the young man before him, his voice suddenly much deeper.
"Show me proof, otherwise—I will make you know the price of daring to deceive a Lion!"
Close, that was close!
Emrys swallowed hard.
This time was different from before; if he had spoken even a half-second slower, that punch would have blown his head off!
Damn it, he'd remember this debt!
He'd settle accounts with this old man if he ever got the chance!