Chapter 78: Meeting
Pfft—
Fulgrim spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, the purple liquid corroding a small crater in the ground.
His half-caved-in face rapidly writhed and healed under the nourishment of the dense warp energy, instantly regaining its sinisterly handsome appearance.
He carefully tidied his dishevelled white hair and dusted off the dust from his shoulder armour.
Then, he spread his four arms, his serpentine tail coiling into an elegant circle on the ground, a dramatically expressive smile spreading across his face.
"Oh~ look who this is…"
Fulgrim's voice no longer trembled, but instead became excited, as if he were performing the climax of an opera.
"My most stubborn, and also my shortest-lived, brother, dear Gorgon."
He was not furious about having his face smashed by a punch; instead, he welcomed his long-lost friend.
"I never imagined this damned fate would play such a cruel trick on us. To meet again in this muddy swamp in such a… unusual way."
Fulgrim turned slightly, displaying his massive, magnificent body to his brother.
"Look at me, dear Gorgon. And look at you."
He pointed at the headless giant engulfed in black flames, his eyes gleaming with superiority.
"Ten thousand years. I have enjoyed an eternal feast in the Prince of Pleasure's garden, evolving in endless pleasure. And you?"
"You have been forged by the Corpse-Emperor into a pile of… smoking scrap metal?"
"Look, I have lived longer than you. And I am… more beautiful than you. I have won this new 'forging contest.'"
Ferrus did not respond immediately.
The burning black flame at his head slowly turned toward Fulgrim. Though it had no features, everyone could feel a cold gaze.
He seemed to have no intention of reminiscing.
Those flowing silver iron hands gripped The Forgebreaker tightly.
"Fulgrim."
Ferrus's voice was deep and brief, devoid of any extraneous emotion.
"You are still… so repulsive."
These words were like a bucket of ice water poured over Fulgrim's enthusiastic face.
"Repulsive?"
Fulgrim was not angry; instead, a hint of intimacy crept in.
"No, no, no, dear Gorgon. This is art you do not understand! Beauty your rusty little brain cannot comprehend!"
He began to move around, pointing to his surroundings and himself.
"Look at this body! Look at the creation around me! What power and harmonious beauty this is!"
"Blessed by the Prince of Pleasure, I have gained true freedom! No longer bound by those hypocritical morals, I no longer need to suppress my true nature for that sycophantic father!"
Fulgrim grew more and more excited, waving his four arms in the air as if conducting an orchestra.
"I won, my dear! I survived! And evolved into a being more perfect than ever before!"
"And you… you are trapped in the past, a lost soul who can never find its way back!"
Faced with these bitter words, Ferrus simply took a step forward calmly.
Thump.
The Gorgon's footsteps interrupted Fulgrim's self-absorbed reverie.
"Perfect?"
Ferrus raised his warhammer, its head pointing at Fulgrim's writhing serpentine tail.
"All I see is a pile of… poorly designed, redundant junk."
His tone remained coldly factual.
"Extra limbs only make you unsteady. And those useless decorations are a burden in battle. Finally, your will, if you still have it, is more fragile than glass."
"You are even… less than a freshly baked spoon."
"As for being a living being…"
Ferrus shook his head, a gesture filled with disdain.
"You have become a lump of… cheaply gold-rimmed trash, ornate but utterly worthless."
Fulgrim's smile finally crumbled.
His facial muscles twitched, the smugness in his purple eyes replaced by aggrieved anger.
If anyone else had said this, he probably would have just taken it as a joke and then killed them with a single strike.
But it was Ferrus.
His most beloved Gorgon.
"How could you say that?!"
Fulgrim roared, his voice filled with grievance and accusation.
"We were once the closest of brothers! We talked all night in the forge! I even forged The Forgebreaker for you with my own hands!"
He pointed to the warhammer in Ferrus's hand, a testament to their friendship.
"You should understand me! My dear Gorgon! You should understand my pursuit of perfection! You should understand my yearning to surpass the ultimate!"
"Why do you look at me like that?! Why do you deny me too?!"
"You owe me! That is my—"
"That hammer."
Ferrus interrupted his hysteria.
He lowered his head, looking at the warhammer burning with black flames in his hand.
"It was given to me by a brother once named Fulgrim."
Ferrus raised his head, the gaze in his fiery head hardening.
"And you…"
His warhammer swung toward Fulgrim's face.
"You are nothing but a daemon who stole his name and wears his skin."
"I have no brother by that name."
"Even less… a monstrous brother with a serpent's tail and a mouthful of nonsense."
Ferrus's words shattered the last shred of hope in Fulgrim's heart.
"A monster?!"
Four arms swung their weapons wildly, smashing everything around them to pieces.
"I am the chosen one! I am the Phoenix! I am the embodiment of perfection!!"
"And that Corpse-Emperor who used you as a tool, who discarded you after using you, is the monster!!"
Fulgrim pointed at Ferrus, his voice shrill and piercing.
"What did I do wrong?! I just did not want to die like you! Like a fool!!"
"I just wanted to live! To live a more exciting life! What is wrong with that?!"
"Your existence is your fault."
Ferrus said no more.
He strode forward, his oppressive aura growing ever stronger.
His warhammer was raised high, black flames gathering on its head.
"Your very existence is an insult to humanity. A betrayal and desecration of the once noble Third Legion."
"You need…"
Ferrus's voice was like a final judgment.
"…to be forged."
He watched the warhammer draw ever closer.
He watched his brother, once beheaded, now returned.
The madness in Fulgrim's eyes momentarily faded.
"If…"
Fulgrim asked softly, as if afraid the other would hear.
"If that day on Istvaan… on that damned warship…"
"If I had not drawn that sword… if I had listened to your advice…"
"Could… we have had another possibility?"
Ferrus paused.
He looked at Fulgrim. The Phoenix that had once shone brightly, now fallen to the depths of depravity.
"There are no ifs."
Ferrus's voice was icy, drawing a period to this long ten thousand years.
"The sword has fallen. Your choice has shaped the outcome."
"It is over, Fulgrim."
"Now—"
"Accept your fate."
The words fell.
Ferrus's warhammer, wielding destructive force, crashed down.
Boom!!!
Just as the warhammer was about to strike Fulgrim's head,
a dense, tangible pink beam of light descended without warning, piercing the hall's dome and enveloping Fulgrim's entire body.
"Ughhhhhh!!"
Fulgrim let out a groan, a mixture of pain and pleasure.
It was a blessing bestowed from the depths of the warp, personally descended by Slaanesh itself.
It seemed someone had reacted to the near-destruction of one of its favoured.
This immense energy instantly healed Fulgrim's injuries; his body grew larger and more solid in the pink light.
His previously ethereal serpentine scales became like crystal, and the muscles on his four arms bulged.
Bang!
Fulgrim raised his four weapons, forcefully blocking Ferrus's warhammer.
Though the ground beneath his feet shattered, though his arms were numb from the shock, he had withstood the attack.
"Hahaha… Did you see that? This is the power of a god!"
Fulgrim laughed maniacally, but he did not seize the opportunity to retaliate.
Instead,
using the recoil, he sprang back with his serpentine tail, sliding dozens of metres, retreating directly to the edge of the expanding warp rift.
Even with the blessing, his power surged.
But looking at his three brothers before him—Guilliman wielding the Emperor's Sword, Mortarion holding the Scythe of Judgement, and the resurrected Ferrus wielding The Forgebreaker—
plus the little girl beside him, lurking menacingly, reeking of the Anathema's power…
it was clearly a battle that would not bring him any pleasure.
"This time… that is enough."
With that, he turned to disappear into the rift.
"Trying to run?! Not so easily!"
Guilliman roared, drawing his sword to give chase.
Just then—
the Greater Daemon who had been hiding to the side, temporarily ignored by everyone—Zarakynel the Calamity—suddenly moved.
This cunning Slaaneshi Keeper of Secrets, though arrogant, was also extremely conscious of its own survival.
It had chosen this moment—the moment when Slaanesh's blessing descended, and the warp energy fluctuations were at their most intense.
"Now!"
A ruthless glint flashed in Zarakynel's eyes.
It knew that to escape unscathed from this force, it would have to pay a price.
"For the Prince of Pleasure!!"
Zarakynel let out a piercing scream.
It did not attack anyone.
Instead, it swung its spear, slashing viciously at its own left side.
Thud!
Two limbs—one holding a shield, the other a secondary weapon—were severed cleanly at the root.
A torrent of purple daemonic blood gushed out, instantly transforming into a dense cloud of poisonous mist that enveloped everyone.
Using this blood mist as cover, Zarakynel's form blurred for a moment, transforming into a streak of purple light, plunging into the warp rift before Fulgrim could react.
"Damn it! You bastard!"
Fulgrim cursed furiously.
Buzz—
As the Greater Daemon fled, the massive purple rift began to collapse and close.
A few seconds later,
the hall returned to calm.
The poisonous mist dissipated, and the warp fluctuations vanished.
Only Fulgrim remained, along with the Slaaneshi daemons who had not managed to escape.
And—
standing in the centre of the hall:
Roboute Guilliman, wielding the burning Emperor's Sword.
Mortarion, wielding the Scythe of Judgement.
Ferrus Manus, wielding the black-flame-wreathed Forgebreaker.
and the little girl perched on Sicarius's shoulder, holding a short sword, with a look of utter astonishment on her face.