Corvus Corax stood in the shadows at the edge of the arena. His black power armor blended perfectly with the shadows cast by the massive stone pillars.
His gaze shifted back and forth between the Nameless One and Angron, who was fighting a bloody battle in the arena with a furrowed brow.
In the end, he decided not to act on his thoughts—because the Nameless One had not moved.
The Nameless One had gone through so much trouble to come all this way. It was impossible that his only goal was simply to destroy Angron.
He must have had another intention.
The Raven Lord chose to remain hidden in the shadows and wait.
In the center of the arena, Angron's roar shook the heavens.
His war axe split the head of the last beast clean in two.
The massive, grotesque body crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of blood-red sand.
Angron stood amid a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, his entire body drenched in crimson—most of it the blood of his enemies.
Mechanical eyes floating in the air circled around him, emitting an ear-splitting buzzing sound.
"Victory!!!" one of the mechanical eyes declared in a high-pitched electronic voice. "The invincible Angron has won again!!!"
"Citizens of Nuceria, the invincible gladiator Angron has once again drenched the arena in the blood of his foes!"
Deafening cheers erupted from the stands.
Nobles and commoners alike waved their arms and shouted the victor's name at the top of their lungs.
"Angron! Angron! Angron!"
The shouts rolled forward like a tsunami, engulfing the entire arena.
Their faces were flushed with excitement, their eyes burning with bloodthirsty desire.
These people showed no concern for the dead beasts or the fallen slaves.
All they cared about was the burning blood, the brutal slaughter, and this grand festival of death.
The slaves had survived through immense hardship, but the nobles of Nuceria refused to give up.
A new duel as about to begin.
From the gate beside the arena, fifty ferocious beastmen with sheep heads and human bodies poured in.
These creatures possessed human limbs yet had twisted goat heads, and their bodies were large and powerful.
The moment they appeared, they attacked the slaves. The slaves in ragged clothes stood no chance against these monsters.
Skulls were split open, brains splattered everywhere. Spines were broken, torn apart by sharp claws, and viscera spilled onto the ground.
Crimson blood mixed with the yellow sand, dyeing it a deep red.
Only Angron and the old man beside him were exceptions. With their powerful physiques and exceptional combat skills, they fought and defeated the monsters.
After a fierce battle, all the beastmen were slaughtered.
However, the slaves suffered heavy losses. The survivors were all wounded and in a truly miserable state.
The cheers from the stands were deafening.
The spectators waved their arms wildly and cheered the bloody massacre.
They did not care how many had died. All they cared about was whether the performance had been sufficiently thrilling.
But the performance was not over yet.
The underground gate opened again.
The protagonists this time were beastmen imprisoned in the most terrifying underground prison.
Their physiques were even more exaggerated than those of Angron's kind, with bulging muscles. But the most terrifying thing of all were the steel cables dangling from the beastmen's heads.
These steel cables were none other than neural implants known as the Butcher's Nails, capable of amplifying aggressive impulses to the extreme.
They constantly stimulated the brain, leaving the victim with nothing but the emotion of rage.
They tormented the implanted person's brain every single moment, suppressing all emotions and thoughts except the desire to kill.
The beastmen implanted with the Butcher's Nails fell into a frenzied state, completely ignoring their injuries and treating every attack as a fight to the death, with no regard for the consequences.
After an intense and brutal battle, the old man was injured, but Angron still emerged victorious.
He killed two of the Butcher's Nails-implanted beastmen with his war axe.
The cheers from the stands reached their peak.
The spectators stood up, waving their arms wildly and cheering for the magnificent gladiatorial battle.
Slaughter, bloodshed, death—these were the entertainments they loved.
The floating mechanical eyes emitted sharp sounds as they quickly moved through the air.
"What a magnificent gladiatorial battle! Let us cheer for the undefeated Angron!"
"Angron!"
"Angron!"
"Angron!"
"It's not over yet!!!" the mechanical eye's megaphone was turned to maximum volume, filled with malicious excitement.
"It seems the spectators of Nuceria are not yet satisfied! You two are excellent warriors, the audience's favorite gladiators!"
The mechanical eye rotated, focusing on the injured old man and Angron. It paused for a moment before shouting even louder.
"People of Nuceria, wouldn't you like to see which of these two great warriors will survive the duel?!"
The moment these words were spoken, the entire venue erupted in cheers.
The people who had been cheering moments ago began shouting even more frenziedly.
They stood up, waved their arms, stomped their feet, and expressed their desires with all their might.
The sound was like a landslide and a tsunami crashing down at the same time—an ear-splitting roar that sent chills down the spine.
The spectators cheered wildly, their fighting spirit ignited by the recent battle.
Now they craved even more bloodshed and slaughter.
Either Angron or the old man would have to offer their own blood or the other's blood.
They wanted to see the two warriors who had fought side by side kill each other and entertain them.
"No…" Angron roared. "I will never lay a hand on Oenomaus. Never."
After being captured by the nobles of Nuceria and thrown into the arena, Oenomaus had always taken responsibility for raising and educating Angron.
It was absolutely impossible for Angron to raise a hand against his adoptive father.
The old Oenomaus smiled with satisfaction.
This elderly gladiator had become a gladiator long ago and knew little besides how to survive, but Angron had not disappointed him.
"Is that so?" the mechanical eye sneered. "You are nothing more than a guard dog raised to entertain us. You have no right to refuse."
"Take up your weapons, fight each other, and entertain the audience. Otherwise, we will teach you a lesson until you obey."
"I have no intention of laying a hand on Oenomaus," Angron replied firmly.
He raised his face, glared at the floating mechanical eye, then looked out at the frenzied crowd.
Finally, his gaze turned toward the high-ranking noble seats. He raised his war axe and aimed it at the group of people.
"If you love death and slaughter so much, why don't you come down here and fight me? Or are you just a bunch of pathetic cowards who only know how to hide in the stands and take pleasure in others' blood?!"
When Angron said this, the cheers stopped for a moment, replaced by an eerie silence.
Then an even greater commotion erupted…
"Arrogant stray dog!"
"Kill him!"
"Teach him a lesson!"
"..."
"Angron, watch your words," came Oenomaus's voice from behind, filled with anxiety and fear. "Those nobles are burning with vengeance. They will definitely take revenge on you…"
Angron turned his face and looked at his adoptive father.
"I've been killing for these bastards. I won't let them take you away from me," Angron said.
Oenomaus's eyes were slightly moist. Angron was still the same kind and considerate boy.
The mechanical eye floated in front of Angron, buzzing around, its camera focusing on the Primarch.
Do you think you can defy our will?
"You are nothing but a guard dog. Do you have the right to refuse?"
The mechanical eye rose higher and addressed everyone present.
"People of Nuceria, how should we discipline a disobedient stray dog?"
The people in the stands became even more frenzied.
They all stood up at once.
They raised their fists and shouted in unison words that sent chills down Oenomaus and Angron's spines.
"The Nails!!!"
"The Nails!!!"
"The Nails!!!"
Oenomaus's face instantly turned deathly pale. He muttered to himself, "No… that can't be. The Butcher's Nails will kill you, Angron…"
The Butcher's Nails were a cruel torture device used especially on disobedient slaves.
It was something implanted in the brain that turned a person into a human who knew nothing but killing like a beast.
It stripped away all reason and emotion except anger, turning them into monsters that knew only slaughter.
Corvus Corax, hidden in the shadows, frowned and looked toward the Nameless One, then at his brother.
He knew the horror of the Butcher's Nails. The Twelfth Legion had been turned into nothing but slaughterers because of them.
Once the Butcher's Nails were implanted, no matter how noble one's innate qualities were, daily torment would turn them into a killing machine.
Yet the people of this world used this inhumane device on others without any restraint.
The world of Nuceria and its people were sick.
The nobles of Nuceria acted quickly.
Dozens of figures leaped out from the noble district, standing atop hovering aircraft, clad in magnificent armor and holding strangely shaped weapons.
They were high-ranking cavalry, Nuceria's elite forces, tasked specifically with suppressing rebellious slaves.
Angron gripped his war axe and stood in front of Oenomaus.
"Angron, run…" Oenomaus shouted from behind. "Don't worry about me, just run…"
But Angron did not move. He would never abandon Oenomaus.
The high-ranking riders approached, their anti-gravity engines humming.
The aircraft drew arcs in the air, surrounding Angron from all sides.
Angron roared endlessly and fought the fully armed high-ranking cavalry with his primitive weapon.
Using his astonishing intellect and Primarch power, he turned the tide of battle and successfully killed many of the high-ranking riders.
However, Angron was no match for overwhelming force. Hit by over a hundred tranquilizer darts, he finally collapsed from exhaustion.
The high-ranking riders swarmed in, dragging Angron away like a dead dog, preparing to perform the Butcher's Nails implantation surgery.
"Angron!!"
Oenomaus rushed forward, wanting to help Angron.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Seven or eight high-ranking riders instantly landed on both sides of Oenomaus and subdued him in the blink of an eye.
Now was not the best time to execute this elderly gladiator.
After implanting the Butcher's Nails in Angron, they would let him tear this old man to pieces himself.
It would surely become the most exciting gladiatorial battle in history, driving countless spectators into frenzied cheers.
"Angron!!"
Oenomaus, restrained by several high-ranking riders, let out a despairing scream.
He had been unable to protect Angron. He could only watch helplessly as they took him away.
He considered suicide, but the high-ranking riders were already prepared.
His life had to be taken by Angron himself. Only then would the audience be satisfied.
In that moment, Oenomaus felt intense hatred toward his own powerlessness.
Angron was a good boy who could understand others' pain.
In front of others, he always used his talents to absorb others' suffering and pass it on.
Because of this, both slaves and gladiators loved and respected him.
Oenomaus was not afraid of death, but he was terrified of being killed by Angron after the Butcher's Nails were implanted in him.
Even if the boy regained consciousness, he would be tormented by endless regret and despair.
That child had been too kind. He could never have endured such a shock. In the end, he would fall into the abyss and numb his own suffering through slaughter.
Datch had been watching the entire scene out of boredom, squatting and jumping to pass the time.
Then a golden exclamation mark appeared above Oenomaus's head.
Datch stopped his meaningless actions, summoned his hoverbike, and charged at full speed toward the high-ranking riders.
Seeing the Nameless One move, Corvus Corax no longer hesitated.
He transformed into a flock of ravens and dove toward the high-ranking riders on flying machines, intending to tear them to pieces.
The ear-splitting roar of engines instantly drew everyone's attention.
Under everyone's gaze, Datch rammed his hoverbike into the high-ranking rider holding Oenomaus.
With a thunderous crash, the unfortunate man was sent flying, rolling across the ground before finally stopping after slamming into a pillar.
Before the other riders could react, thousands of black ravens attacked all at once.
Their sharp beaks and claws were strong enough to easily tear through helmet visors.
Those sharp claws easily ripped through thick armor, and screams of agony echoed throughout the room.
After eliminating all the high-ranking riders surrounding Oenomaus…
Datch attacked the opponent with the Golden Hammer, healing their injuries.
Only after finishing all of this did he ask a question.
"Oenomaus, is there anything I can do for you?"
The recovered Oenomaus stood up and looked at the man in front of him—riding a bike and wearing golden armor—with an expression of surprise and confusion.
He did not know who the other person was or why he was trying to help him.
However, judging from their attire, they were definitely not subordinates of those despicable nobles.
"Please… please save Angron. I beg you. Don't let them implant the Butcher's Nails in him. And don't let him fall into the abyss."
After a moment's hesitation, Oenomaus spoke to Datch in a pleading tone.
A task interface suddenly appeared.
[Mission: Save Angron and prevent his corruption.]
Implanting the Butcher's Nails, which would lead to the murder of his adoptive father Oenomaus, was a decisive turning point in Angron's fate.
Indescribable despair and guilt tore Angron's soul apart, leading him down an irreversible path.
And now, you have the power to overturn all of this.
Help Oenomaus and stop the nobles of Nuceria from doing something terrible to Angron.
[Quest Rewards: 2,000 Points, 2,000 EXP, +500 Reputation, Time Stone ×1]
Datch looked at the quest reward—it was the Time Stone! He was only one step away from completing the full Infinity Gauntlet.
So he nodded and accepted the mission.
He mounted his hoverbike and charged straight toward the high-ranking riders who were dragging Angron away.
At that moment, a mechanical eye flew in front of Datch.
"Stop, you bastard."
"Who the hell do you think you are? How dare you act so rudely in front of us!"
Hearing this, Datch paused for a moment, then opened the Room of Requirement.
He released the Dark Angels and Black Templars from inside.
"Slaughter all those nobles and high-ranking riders."
What kind of attitude is this, showing off in front of the Player?!
Kill them all. Don't leave a single one alive.
Otherwise, do you really think the Player is running a charity?!
Mordachi and the other Astartes did not know the details, but they still immediately obeyed the Nameless One's order and began purging everyone in the arena.
Grenades exploded with thunderous roars, their muzzle flashes blooming like crimson flowers in the stands.
Amid the roar of chainswords, chunks of flesh and blood sprayed everywhere.
The nobles who had been shouting "The Nails!!!" were now screaming and scattering in all directions.
Corvus Corax transformed into a flock of ravens and dove toward the highest point to capture the leader of the bandit group.
The guards panicked and fired at the ravens. Some of the smarter ones brought out flamethrowers.
However, before the enemy could pull the trigger on the flamethrower, the flock of ravens gathered and transformed into Corvus Corax.
One swing of his sharp claws instantly tore through the throats of several guards.
The uncontrolled flamethrower sprayed fuel, igniting everything around it, and seven or eight people were engulfed in flames one after another.
Corvus Corax continued advancing using the flames as footing, his claws tearing through the armored guards like paper.
The Raven Lord passed by the corpses and stood before the ruler of Nuceria, grabbing the back of his neck and lifting him up.
Then he transformed back into a flock of ravens and flew toward where the Nameless One and Angron were.
Datch floored the accelerator and sped forward at full speed. The high-ranking riders holding Angron had no time to react.
They were sent flying after being rammed by the golden bike and sliced apart by the greatsword in his hand.
After defeating the enemies, Datch used the Golden Hammer to wake the sleeping Angron.
Angron opened his eyes, shook his head, looked around, and noticed the chaos. A horrific massacre was unfolding in the arena.
High-ranking riders, nobles in silk robes, and cheering spectators were being slaughtered, their screams echoing throughout the land.
At that moment, Corvus Corax descended from the sky and threw the prisoner he was holding in front of Angron.
This is the supreme ruler of Nuceria.
This man, who had once been a noble and arrogant ruler, was now completely trembling with fear and kneeling on the ground.
He realized that these people had come for Angron.
Though he did not understand why, he resolutely knelt before Angron.
"I repent for my past actions, Angron."
"I know I was wrong. I truly know I was wrong. Please tell them to stop. They are innocent. They have done nothing wrong."
Angron looked at the slaughtered civilians and nobles in the distance and smiled with satisfaction.
"No. There is no such thing as innocence."
"Besides, you don't even realize you're wrong. You only know that you're going to die."
…
…
PS: Please support me and read advanced chapters at patreon.com/AbsoluteCode