Outside the Colosseum lay a garden of slaughter, composed of corpses and ruins.
Fogremia's figure was the only dancing splash of color in this garden.
Her magnificent pink and purple crystal power armor flowed with a mesmerizing radiance under the dim, yellow sunlight of Nuceria, unstained by a single drop of blood.
Every swing of the ornate longsword in her hand seemed to slice a perfect silver rift through the air.
Surrounding her, over three hundred corpses of World Eaters Space Marines lay fallen.
Not a single corpse was intact.
Some had their heads precisely shorn off, the cuts smooth as mirrors.
Others were pierced through the most vulnerable joints of their power armor, the sword energy shredding their internal organs.
Still others, while in the midst of charging, were split in two from head to toe by a flash of sword light too fast to track.
This was a slaughter, but it felt more like an artistic performance.
A faint, enjoying smile played on Fogremia's face.
She was like the proudest of dancers, waltzing with a group of the crudest beasts.
Every time she dodged, she stepped on the very edge of the wind pressure created by swinging chainaxes; every time she struck with her sword, it was accompanied by the end of a World Eater's life.
"Vulgar, barbaric, completely lacking in aesthetic."
She gracefully sidestepped, dodging a Warhammer that came crashing down with the sound of wind and thunder.
Her sword tip flicked upward, like a viper striking, precisely piercing the visor of the ambusher's helmet.
"Your anger is like a chaotic fire that can only burn yourselves."
She murmured softly, her voice carrying the extreme pickiness regarding combat aesthetics that belonged to the phoenix of the past.
In her eyes, these so-called "brothers" were nothing more than wretches enslaved by pain and anger, barely even qualified to become "works" under her blade.
She enjoyed this uneven, dimension-crushing style of combat.
It made her feel like the sharpest sword, polished by a goddess's own hand, proving her value through an impeccable slaughter.
However, just as she prepared to elegantly "prune" this last small squad of enemies, a discordant note abruptly intruded upon this movement of slaughter.
The actions of those World Eaters changed.
They remained berserk, remained fearless of death.
But within that pure anger, born solely for battle, there was something else.
A hint of... agitation.
It was as if an invisible whip had lashed out deep within their souls.
Their roars were no longer for intimidation, but carried a sense of unease similar to beasts searching for their companions.
Fogremia's brows furrowed ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly.
"Hmm?"
She halted the finishing blow she was about to deliver, her figure drifting backward like a feather for dozens of meters to put some distance between them.
Her deep purple eyes scrutinized the enemies before her with true seriousness for the first time.
Just then.
A roar like a thunderclap boomed from the direction of the World Eaters Legion's command headquarters!
"Father—!!!"
The owner of that voice was one of the most berserk warriors in the World Eaters Legion, Captain Kharn.
But at this moment, his roar lacked its usual bloodthirst, replaced by an extreme, incomprehensible shock and panic.
"Father's rage... has subsided!!"
This roar was like an invisible psychic command, instantly detonating the pain engine known as the "Butcher's Nails" in the minds of all the World Eaters present.
Hum—!!!
Thousands of blue-and-white armored giants stiffened simultaneously.
Between them and their Primarch, there existed a twisted and profound link derived from neural implants.
They could share each other's anger and, to a certain extent, perceive each other's pain.
That pain and rage from their father, as scorching and eternal as a star, was the background noise of their world, the source of their strength, and the totem of their faith.
But just now.
That "star" suddenly... went out.
That violent background noise that supported their entire world had vanished.
In its place was a deathly, maddening void.
This feeling was even more terrifying to them than having their skulls split open by the sharpest chainaxe.
Their god... had gone silent.
"Something happened!"
"In the Colosseum!!"
"Protect Father!!!"
No command was needed.
A frenzy born of animal instinct to protect the nest instantly overwhelmed all reason.
The next second, a scene occurred that even made Fogremia's expression change.
"ROAR AAAHHH—!!!"
Thousands of World Eaters Space Marines, as if having received the same order, instantly turned around.
They abandoned the elegant yet deadly enemy before them, abandoning all tactics and formations.
In their eyes, only one target remained.
That magnificent Colosseum, standing alone amidst the ruins.
Like an unstoppable tsunami composed of blue-and-white steel, they launched the most frantic, reckless collective charge toward that direction!
BOOM! Rumble!
The earth groaned under the trampling of thousands of Astartes.
The entire surface of the planet seemed to tremble violently before this torrent of destruction.
Fogremia's expression became grave for the first time.
"This is bad."
She could not let them pass.
Big Sister is still inside.
Fogremia no longer held anything back.
Her pink and purple crystal power armor shone brilliantly, and she transformed into a bolt of silver lightning that tore through the heavens, actively meeting the tsunami of steel.
"Halt, you beasts!"
Her voice was cold and proud, carrying unquestionable majesty.
The longsword in her hand stirred up a storm of death, more brilliant and lethal than any before.
Wherever the sword light reached, flesh and blood flew, and severed limbs and broken pieces of power armor were tossed high into the air like debris caught in a hurricane.
The dozens of World Eaters charging in the front row were completely dismembered in a single breath, unable to even see her movements clearly.
However, it was useless.
Her interception, against this violent torrent composed of thousands, was like trying to stem a bursting river with a small knife.
A drop in the bucket.
More World Eaters didn't even glance at their fallen comrades.
With red eyes, they stepped over the corpses of their kin, bypassed the silver storm of death, and continued to charge frantically and unswervingly toward the Colosseum.
Their goal was never to defeat her.
It was to return to their father's side.
Fogremia's figure flickered constantly within the rampaging legion, each appearance claiming several lives.
Her sword skills remained perfect, her killing efficiency remained astonishing.
But she was only one person.
She could kill a hundred, two hundred.
But she could not stop thousands of completely insane Space Marines at the same time.
Watching the vanguard of that steel torrent reach within five hundred meters of the Colosseum, a hint of genuine urgency finally appeared on Fogremia's stunningly beautiful face.
She immediately diverted a sliver of her focus and sent an incredibly urgent psychic transmission toward the Colosseum.
The voice penetrated the barrier of space and resonated directly in Leticia's mind.
"Big Sister! They are coming!"
"Something is wrong with their state; I cannot hold them back for long!"
After doing all this, Fogremia no longer attempted large-scale interception.
She took one deep look at the legion surging toward the Colosseum like a tide, gritted her teeth slightly, and a flash of determination crossed her face.
She poured all her strength into her legs.
The next instant, her figure left a faint afterimage in place, and she transformed into a streak of pink and purple light, moving several times faster than the World Eaters' charge.
Starting after them but arriving first, she rushed toward the only main entrance of the Colosseum before the tsunami of steel could reach it.
...
Inside the Colosseum.
The fragile peace that had just been established was completely shattered by a vibration coming from deep underground, growing increasingly violent.
Rumble... Rumbling...
Fine sand and gravel fell in a rustle from the ancient dome, pelting Angron's broad, blood-and-sweat-stained shoulders.
His eyes, which had just faded from blood-red and appeared somewhat dull and dazed, were jolted awake by this sudden vibration.
He instinctively looked up toward the direction of the Colosseum's massive gate, forged from heavy alloy.
"THUD—!!!"
A deafening boom came from the gate without warning!
The sound was as if a prehistoric beast had slammed its head hard against the door.
The sturdy alloy gate was forced to bulge inward by this immense power, emitting a teeth-grinding groan of twisting metal.
"ROAR AAAHHH—!!!"
Immediately following was the sound of hundreds, thousands of roars mixed together, filled with agitation and fury.
The sound penetrated the heavy gate, like demonic voices surging from the depths of hell, echoing madly within the empty Colosseum.
It was his children.
It was the World Eaters.
Angron's nerves, which had just been soothed by the power of Vitality, were once again pulled by this familiar sound.
The brutality stemming from the "Butcher's Nails," which had been forcibly suppressed, seemed to show signs of rearing its head again.
His massive body tensed slightly once more.
At this critical moment.
A streak of pink and purple light, as if tearing through space, rushed into the main entrance of the Colosseum like lightning, ahead of the deafening impacts and roars.
The light faded, revealing Fogremia's slender and upright figure.
Holding her longsword, with her back to Leticia and Angron, she stood alone, blocking the massive gate that was violently deforming and likely to be burst open at any moment.
Her flawless, pretty face was now filled with unprecedented gravity and determination.
Sweat trickled slightly down her smooth temples.
"THUD! THUD! THUD!"
More violent impacts, like a raging storm, rang out in rapid succession.
Fogremia did not look back; her cold and hurried voice rang out in the empty arena, carrying a hint of irrepressible panting.
"Big Sister!"
"I can only... hold this place!"
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