Chapter 76: They Can't Leave
Clang!!!
The two weapons wielded by the Primarchs collided violently.
Mortarion's "Judgement" scythe, whistling through the air, slashed upward from the lower left at an extremely tricky angle, aiming directly for Fulgrim's thick serpentine tail.
Fulgrim's four arms thrashed wildly.
His two upper hands gripped a silver blade and a poisoned whip, while his two lower hands held a claw and a short sword.
"Die! Die! You fence-sitter! You dare to fight me with weapons?!"
Fulgrim screamed, his blade blocking the scythe, the immense recoil causing his serpentine body to shudder.
At the same time, the poisoned whip in his hand, like a nimble giant serpent, lashed out at Mortarion's neck.
Crack!
A crisp sound rang out.
The purple-glowing poisoned whip struck Mortarion's shoulder guard.
A charred crack instantly appeared on the grey, finely crafted power armour, emitting a plume of purple smoke.
Mortarion remained expressionless, not even blinking.
"Is that all the strength you have?"
Mortarion flicked his wrist; the blade of his scythe slid down Fulgrim's poisoned blade, sparks flying, before leaving a deep gash on Fulgrim's arm.
Purple blood spurted out, splashing onto the ground and sending up puffs of acrid smoke.
"Ah! My beautiful skin! But this is far too pleasurable, brother!" Fulgrim let out a scream that was hard to decipher—a scream that was neither pure pleasure nor rage—his weapons flailing wildly, attempting to slice his "traitorous" brother to pieces.
Meanwhile, on the other side.
Guilliman, facing Slaanesh's most powerful hunter, was also locked in a stalemate.
"Your soul… is burning."
Zarakynel's spear rained down like lightning, each strike aimed at the gaps in Guilliman's armour.
"That pain… that burden called duty… is delicious."
The Keeper of Secrets gracefully dodged a heavy blow from Guilliman, the screaming faces on its shield emitting a jarring noise.
Guilliman ignored its provocation.
He fought steadily, each swing of his sword carrying a carefully calculated trajectory and power.
Clang!
Guilliman's left Hand of Dominion shot out, seizing Zarakynel's lightning-fast spear in mid-air.
The immense grip caused the spear haft to creak.
Zarakynel's expression changed; it tried to pull its weapon back, but found the blue giant's hand unmoving like an iron clamp.
"You talk too much, daemon."
Guilliman said coldly.
He yanked the spear back, using the momentum to lunge forward, his right hand wielding the Emperor's Sword, which blazed with flames, and slammed it into Zarakynel's shield.
Boom!
The Keeper of Secrets was thrown back several metres by the impact, several faces on its shield charred beyond recognition.
Behind the two Primarchs, a much larger melee was raging.
Hundreds of Ultramarines formed an impenetrable line; the sound of boltguns firing was incessant.
"For Macragge! For the Emperor!"
"Fire! Drive those daemons back!"
Across from them, countless Slaaneshi Legionaries and daemon beasts poured forth from the warp rift.
The two sides clashed fiercely in the narrow hall.
"Watch the left flank!"
a veteran Ultramarine shouted.
A nimble Slaaneshi daemon bypassed the defences, its sharp claws raised high, poised to slit the throat of an Astartes who was reloading.
Just then—
Whoosh—
A silent, black figure darted out from the side.
He did not utter a battle cry.
His power sword, burning with pale flames, swung precisely.
Thud!
The Slaaneshi daemon's head had not even had time to bite its target before it was severed by the sword.
Pale flames instantly engulfed its corpse.
The silent warrior sheathed his sword without pausing. He reached out a hand and helped the Astartes to his feet.
"Thank you! Brother!" the Ultramarine said. "For the Emperor!"
The warrior did not speak.
His eyes, burning with white flames, met his gaze, and he nodded.
Then, he turned and charged back into the most densely packed area of daemons.
Many more silent warriors were fighting.
Like a swarm of ghosts, they moved through the ranks of the Ultramarines.
Each strike claimed the life of a daemon.
They needed no cover, no support. They were spears unstoppable.
Under this onslaught, the Slaaneshi lines began to retreat steadily.
The purple tide that had previously occupied most of the area was forcibly compressed to the vicinity of the massive warp rift.
Eileen stood in the safe zone at the rear.
Cohl, Sicarius, and Sergeant Varo stood like three guardian gatekeepers protecting her.
She surveyed the battlefield; though her vision was blurred, she could tell that her two brothers and the Imperial warriors were gaining the upper hand.
[Ding!]
Suddenly, a crisp sound rang in her mind.
It sounded a bit like the foreman's lunch bell.
[Alipay payment received… Ah, sorry, wrong channel—it is energy purification complete!]
Old Huang's voice echoed in Eileen's mind, still with that same frivolous tone.
[Lucius, that ugly bald guy, although he is a bit of a pervert, this energy is really good.]
[Having lived for ten thousand years, and still carrying that perverted woman's curse scent—I did not expect that old bitch to have such unique taste in people. The warp energy from his death is enough to repair your losses and the damage to your body just now.]
"Really?" Eileen's eyes lit up. "What else can we do? Call some more people out?"
[No need to call more people.]
Old Huang chuckled.
[Remember how we beat up those green-skins a while back?]
[Let us do it again!]
[Since these perverts love seeking thrills, let us give them the run for their money!]
Eileen took a deep breath and gripped her short sword tightly.
The previously dim, orange-red flames on the sword suddenly burst into brightness.
Boom!
A dazzling orange-gold light erupted from the blade.
Meanwhile,
in the centre of the battlefield.
Mortarion, locked in combat with Fulgrim, suddenly felt the scythe in his hand become scorching hot.
"This is…"
He looked down.
He saw that the giant war-scythe called "Judgement," which had previously only faintly flickered with psychic energy, was now engulfed in raging flames.
A warm power surged into his body through the scythe's haft.
"Roboute! Can you feel it?!"
Mortarion shouted.
"Of course!"
The Emperor's Sword in Guilliman's hand was now engulfed in flames.
The flames illuminated the entire hall as if it were daytime.
Even the Ultramarines noticed their boltguns spewing golden-tinged fire.
"What… what is this power?!"
Fulgrim screamed.
He was horrified to discover that the wounds inflicted by Mortarion, which should have healed rapidly under the influence of the dense Slaaneshi power here,
now had golden flames burning on the wounds.
These flames were preventing his regeneration and were corroding his soul like poison.
"No… damn it! This is not fun!! It is the Anathema!!"
Zarakynel the Calamity was also forced back by Guilliman's sword; its shield glowed red-hot, and smoke rose from its hand gripping the spear.
A fear from the depths of their souls—the oppressive feeling unique to facing the "Anathema"—made the two accustomed-to-arrogant daemon lords consider fleeing for the first time.
"Retreat! Retreat to the rift!"
Fulgrim roared, ignoring his still-slaughtering minions, and turned to plunge into the purple fissure.
"Hmph? Trying to escape?"
Eileen, on the platform, raised her short sword.
"Ahem."
Eileen cleared her throat.
Her voice, amplified by psychic energy, became grand and majestic, echoing across the entire battlefield.
"Since you enjoy causing havoc on human land so much…"
"Then—"
"Stay here!!!"
Her words were so domineering that even Guilliman could not help but turn back, his eyes filled with admiration for Eileen's presence.
But that was not all.
After shouting this, Eileen's face suddenly fell.
She put her hand to her mouth and muttered softly, with extreme embarrassment,
"Do I really have to shout the last part? That is so stupid!"
"…Fine."
Eileen sighed helplessly.
She straightened her face again, raised her short sword, and pointed it at the group of daemons scrambling to squeeze into the rift.
With all her might, she roared the words:
"They are not going anywhere!!!"