No wonder Krast always liked to delve deep into the front lines; it turns out it was a problem inherited from his roots!
Emrys was very helpless. As a Commander, shouldn't he stay in the bridge command room, calm and composed, directing thousands of troops?
But what happened?
He was dragged to the front lines again.
And this time, it was even more dangerous!
Although Guilliman was surrounded by the Ultramarines' most elite Honor Guard, the problem was that their position was far from other companies, and they couldn't coordinate with each other.
What if Khorne's legion concentrated its forces and prioritized surrounding them? No matter how powerful a Primarch was, even if he was made of iron, how many nails could he hammer in?
Emrys truly didn't understand why the Regent, who was known for his outstanding strategy and wisdom, always had to play the trick of going deep alone, as if to prove himself.
"For the Emperor!"
In front, the blue-gold giant's figure let out a thunderous roar, instantly overwhelming the battlefield's clamor.
"The Imperial Regent, Gene-Primarch, Lord of the Thirteenth Legion, Roboute Guilliman is here! Follow me and crush them!!!"
Emrys rolled his eyes and couldn't help but curse under his breath, "Lord, you truly aren't afraid of death!"
To openly shout his name in the rear of Khorne's daemon legion, surrounded by Khorne's daemons spread across the mountains and plains—if this isn't seeking death, what is it?!
Sure enough, the situation was as Emrys expected.
Guilliman's shout instantly attracted the attention of a large number of daemons. The daemons, servants, Chaos Sorcerers, Skull Cannons, Iron Warriors, world Eaters, and others, who had been thrown into disarray by the Ultramarines' airborne strike, immediately fell into an eerie silence, all turning their gaze towards the giant clad in magnificent blue-gold armor.
"Oh no, this is bad!"
Cold sweat trickled down Emrys' forehead.
Being stared at by tens of thousands of malicious eyes, like meat on a chopping block, who wouldn't feel immense pressure?
Yet, Guilliman remained unmoved.
"Primarch?!"
Suddenly, on the chaotic battlefield, the ground violently shook. A massive, blood-red war-armor, four to five meters tall, covered in flesh-corroded, twisted spikes, squeezed out from among the daemons and servant armies, its feet crushing friendly forces in front of it, letting out a blasphemous roar.
"You are the Gene-Primarch? Good! Today I shall offer your head to the 'Blood God' as a sacrifice!"
Chaos Dreadnought!
The blood-red Khorne Dreadnought advanced with earthquake-like steps, charging directly towards Guilliman, who stood proudly in the center of the battlefield, protected by the Honor Guard.
A roaring chainaxe, stained with gore, its terrifying power tore through the air!
However.
Guilliman was expressionless, watching the approaching Chaos Dreadnought. After his powerful computational ability perfectly simulated every one of the opponent's movements in his mind, he—moved.
Taking a step forward, the power armor's servo-system let out a powerful hum, and the Emperor's Holy Sword traced a perfect arc, burning with golden flames.
The entire movement was clean, without any hesitation, and not a single superfluous action.
"Blood for the Blood God—"
Whoosh!
The Chaos Dreadnought didn't even have time to let out a complete battle cry before its massive body, burning with endless rage, was split in half by that peerless golden sword light!
Foul daemon blood sprayed like a waterfall, but was instantly completely evaporated and purified the moment it touched the flames of the Emperor's Sword.
The massive daemon's remains transformed into scattered ashes amidst its wails.
Guilliman surveyed his surroundings, his gaze carrying an invisible pressure, and said with extreme disdain.
"Is this all Khorne's legion is capable of?"
Emrys' eye twitched. Even if you are a Primarch, you can't be this arrogant, can you?
"Kill him!!!"
"Slaughter him!"
"So what if he's a Primarch? Charge! With so many of us, we can pile on him and kill him!!!"
Khorne's legion roared in fury, surging towards them like wave after wave of blood-red tides!
However, the Ultramarines' Honor Guard lived up to the honor of their name. Under the frenzied assault of Khorne's legion, they actually formed an unbreakable bulwark, blocking the flood-like impact!
Guilliman, even more so, did not stop, like a war god descended, leading the Under the Light Honor Guard, he plunged into the sea of blood!
Every swing of the Emperor's Sword brought forth a golden storm of flames, precisely severing the critical joints of daemon engines, or reducing swathes of Chaos infantry, along with their blasphemous armor, to ashes!
The Gene-Primarch's deep penetration into the enemy lines, a scene of slaughter as if he were invincible, instantly infused the Ultramarines with supreme courage, and their morale soared to its peak.
The roar of bolters grew denser, the advance of the shield wall became firmer, and the tide of blue armor, led by Guilliman, this indestructible blade, truly began to irreversibly tear through the crimson daemon frenzy that sought to engulf them!
Guilliman's sword split open the twisted cannon barrel of a Hellbrute, and golden flames incinerated the Chaos Sorcerer controlling it into screaming psychic residue and ashes. His murderous gaze actually forced back these fanatical Khorne followers.
They were brave, but not foolish!
A Primarch, one daemon per sword strike; even Chaos Dreadnoughts and Hellbrutes fell before him like chopping melons and dicing vegetables. Who could stop that?!
"Your target isn't Emrys, is it?"
Emrys had thought that confronting them directly was the limit for a Primarch, but he never expected that this Regent lord suddenly pointed a hand, landing on him.
"He is right here, and I, the Regent, am also here. If you have the guts, come and kill us!"
Oh no, he was being used as bait!
At this moment, Emrys suddenly understood. It turned out the Regent had brought him along to use him as fishing bait!
As for who the 'big fish' Guilliman intended to catch was—Emrys sighed, having largely guessed a few possibilities.
The next second.
The vast blood-red torrent suddenly stilled.
A deeper, more terrifying blood-red pressure, like a tangible tsunami, carrying a horrifying roar, burst into the battlefield.
"Roboute—!!!"
Guilliman's eyes narrowed slightly, but there was no trace of panic on his face. His lips curled into a cold smile, and the Emperor's Holy Sword hummed in response.
As if sensing the Primarch's deep-seated rage, pure flames burned, and the surrounding atmosphere trembled and wailed under the killing intent.
"You finally appeared. It's time to put an end to the feud between us, Angron!"
The terrifying blood-red daemon appeared again!
The Hammer Skulls, which had slaughtered billions of lives, suddenly fell, carrying a horrifying storm, pulverizing hundreds of daemons and servants in its path. Amidst the sky-high blood rain and muddy swamp of flesh, the berserk figure once again appeared in Emrys' sight.
"Angron—you're still not dead, you bastard?!"
Emrys was completely speechless. How tenacious was this bastard, that he still hadn't been cut down by the Lion? It truly was Khorne's blessing!
"Emrys—!!!"
Damn it, Angron is still chasing me!
Some people seem to be dead, but are actually to live; while others seem to be to live, but are actually dead. As for Angron Alwen, he can only be described as having the resilience of a cockroach.
How many times has this been?
Alwen had lost count of how many times he had seen Angron in this wretched place.
He had originally thought that the tactics he had devised with Lyon before leaving, even if they couldn't severely wound Angron, would at least send him rolling back into the Warp.
But who would have thought—damn it—he'd run into that jinx Angron again the moment he returned!
Alwen wasn't too worried about Lyon; after all, the old man had divine artifacts bestowed by the Emperor himself, so even if he couldn't defeat Angron, nothing serious would happen to him.
But Guilliman... that's another story.
He was genuinely afraid that if Guilliman and Angron fought one-on-one, Guilliman would end up being carried off by the 'stretcher team'.
Last time, it was a stasis field, Eldar, and the miraculous Arkhan Land that barely managed to get Guilliman out of the ICU. What about this time?
Or... maybe we should reconsider?
It's not a flaw to be bad at one-on-one combat!
Alwen rushed forward, grabbing Guilliman's restless hand, his eyelids twitching wildly.
"Lord Regent, please think this through!!!"
""
Guilliman, who had finally managed to brew up some fighting spirit, was immediately broken by this interruption. He turned to stare at Alwen, somewhat speechless. Though his helmet obscured his expression, his tone revealed a hint of exasperation.
"What does that expression mean? Do you think I'm not his opponent?!"
Don't you know if you are or not?
Although Alwen did indeed think that in his heart, Guilliman was a Primarch after all, so he absolutely couldn't say it like that. Therefore, considering the need to spare the Primarch's feelings, he pulled at the corners of his mouth and lowered his voice.
"Of course not. I absolutely believe in you. A mere Daemon Prince is just a roadside beast that you could cut down in minutes. But the problem is, as the commander of the entire fleet, you have more important tasks. How can you stoop to the level of this thing?"
He said all this in one breath, afraid that Guilliman would get hot-headed and challenge Angron to a duel.
"I suggest we make a tactical withdrawal, gather the Dark Angels, Blood Angels, and Ultramarines main forces, and then besiege this thing!"
Guilliman stared at him with a half-smile, but forcefully shook off Alwen's hand and said calmly.
"Of course I know what you're saying is right, but I must deal with him personally."
The old grudge between him and Angron, the time has come to settle it, even today.
That's it, he's lost his head!
Alwen was on the verge of tears, only able to look hopefully at the Honor Guard, wishing they would dissuade the Primarch.
But—the Honor Guard officer, however, spoke without hesitation.
"We trust the Primarch's judgment; it will absolutely not be wrong!"
"Did you say that to Karlgar on Vigil when you were there?" Alwen's eyelids twitched, and then he asked... The Honor Guard officer fell silent.
"Enough, no more talk."
Guilliman's words carried an undeniable tone. He raised his hand and patted Alwen's shoulder, saying calmly.
"I know what you're worried about, but you can rest assured. Since I have made my preparations, there will be no accidents."
Preparations? What preparations?
Alwen was very curious, but on second thought, Guilliman was definitely not a reckless man. Since he said so, he must be confident.
Besides, if it really came down to it, he could just throw a 'nuclear bomb' to save Guilliman!
"Come!"
While he was pondering, Guilliman had already walked towards the blood-red Daemon, beckoning to the insane Angron.
"Angron, you pitiful beast, a rabid dog enslaved by Chaos, the ghost of Nuceria, let me grant you 'release'."
It was better that he hadn't spoken, but saying that made Angron even angrier. If it weren't for the 'Butcher's Nails' limiting his speech and thought, he would probably be cursing by now.
Cursed by the Emperor, then cursed by Lyon.
After being cursed by Lyon, now comes a Roboute, who also calls him a rabid dog of Chaos—will it ever end?!
"Ro—bou—te—!!!" The roar, born of extreme fury, was not language, but a pure, destructive sonic weapon!
The air was compressed and burst, and the eardrums of nearby Chaos warriors and Ultramarines instantly ruptured, blood flowing from their seven orifices!
The next second, Angron moved!
No skill, no tactics, only the most primitive, most violent charge!
The enormous demonic body transformed into a scarlet storm of destruction. Each step he took made the earth tremble. Hundreds of meters became mere inches under his feet. Gorechild and Spinegrinder, trailing burning trajectories, descended upon Guilliman with space-tearing force!
The momentum was as if he would cleave the entire mountain range in two!
"Angron!"
Guilliman's will was firm. He chose not to retreat. As the Lord of the Ultramarines and the Imperial Regent, he would never allow himself to back down.
The data stream detected by his augury system flashed wildly in his eyes, predicting Angron's seemingly chaotic, yet destruction-rule-laden, trajectory.
Then, the Holy Sword, at a cunning angle, drew a perfect golden arc, carrying the divine will to purify evil and Chaos, meeting the descending chainaxe giants with unparalleled precision!
Two Primarchs.
No, or rather, one former Primarch, now a Daemon Prince, and a Primarch officially began their struggle!
Clang!
An indescribable roar, mixed with terrifying air currents, centered on the two, swept hundreds of meters in an instant. The ultimate clash of Order and Chaos, Reason and Madness, the Emperor and the Blood God, carrying the intense psychic energy of the Warp, actually tore space!
In a light more dazzling than a star, golden and scarlet flames, like a bursting dam, poured out madly in all directions!
A pure energy Impact, spread in a ring, melting rock and metal into scorching lava. And any warriors caught in its path, whether Chaos warriors or Ultramarines, were instantly twisted and vaporized by this force!
The ground beneath Guilliman's feet exploded into a deep crater. The power armor system, capable of withstanding a Titan's stomp, immediately emitted a piercing alarm. Even the servo systems in the joints overloaded from the immense Impact, emitting blue smoke.
Angron's Impact forced the Primarch to retreat, each step leaving deep footprints in the molten ground.
Angron, on the other hand, merely swayed slightly. The Butcher's Nails embedded in his forehead emitted an even more violent electrical hiss, transforming pain into greater power, causing this mad beast to let out a more ferocious, brutal laugh.
His twin axes rose again, with an even more terrifying momentum, slashing down at Guilliman like a furious storm!
The situation took a sharp turn for the worse!
Aside from Alwen, no one expected that while Lyon could fight Angron to a draw as a bastard Primarch, Guilliman, in contrast, was being suppressed!
I told you already, don't expect too much from the 'Regent's' one-on-one skills—Alwen covered his face in agony, why did no one believe him!