Holy hell, the primarch is that strong?!
Watching Curze carve through the battlefield, Bruce could not help but marvel. A primarch was still a primarch—no matter how tiny she had become, her combat power was nothing to scoff at.
But by observing Curze in battle, Bruce arrived at a conclusion that was both chilling and exciting.
Namely—
Curze's raw physical strength had not changed at all just because she had turned into a girl.
She might have become tiny, but the force behind a single punch of hers was more terrifying than a Dreadnought's. Her demi-god primarch body had been preserved intact.
Not only that, she could also use all the powers associated with Remilia—the spell cards, blood magic, demon summons—so naturally and effortlessly that it was absurd.
Which meant one thing: Curze now retained both the demi-god physique of a primarch and the blood-magic abilities of Remilia. Combined, that was practically on the level of a Warp awakening.
Even more terrifying was the fact that these powers, not being native to the Warhammer setting, were not suppressed by anti-psyker methods. One enemy Librarian had tried to stop Curze's rampage—
—and was skewered through the body by a blood-red spear the very next second.
Tiny little Curze had ended up single-handedly farming kills in the final stretch of the battle, climbing straight to the top of the kill board.
Even the allied Dark Angels, watching all this, were left unsure what expression to make. Before, they had not understood what kind of strange charm that little girl possessed to hook Lion's soul like this.
But now?
Now they understood.
It was simply because she was that powerful!
As expected of the Lion. Even the woman he chose was monstrously strong.
"My children! Attack! Kill every last one of these traitors! Leave no survivors!"
Curze was getting more and more into it. She no longer cared about anything else—anything that was not friendly was to be killed on sight.
So you dared call me a little shrimp?
Damn you all!
If I don't kill you here, how am I supposed to keep any dignity in the Legion after this?!
"The Lord of Night, forever!"
The Night Lords' morale soared.
Curze tore across the battlefield like a wraith. Every time a crimson flash cut through the air, rebel heads rolled. Even as death took them, they never realized what horrifying existence had killed them.
And death, by Curze's standards, was the only mercy and compassion she still offered these heretics.
Much like the brand-new primarch-grade lightning claws Bruce now carried in his hands.
Before long, the last Astartes of the Night Lords' Forty-Fifth Company fell beneath Curze's hand. And then she spotted the final objective of this campaign—the supposedly composed but internally panicking Savrok.
Backed up against the entrance to the underground doomsday bunker, Savrok knew the situation was hopeless. Even if he managed to hide inside, the Night Lords would dig him out eventually.
So instead, he chose to stand openly at the entrance and raised both hands toward Curze in surrender as she approached with her blood-red spear in hand.
"F-Father… I…"
"Whatever you want to say, say it. I'm listening."
Curze walked toward him at a measured pace, each footstep in the blood-slick floor sounding like the tolling of a funeral bell.
Though he was facing nothing more than a little girl, Savrok was terrified to the point of collapse. For one awful moment he nearly screamed, but he knew if he did, he would only die faster.
"I—I surrender! And—I accept any punishment you decree without condition!" Savrok begged for a way to survive. "Please, spare me this once! Even if you throw me into a penal legion, I'll accept it! Please, Father!"
"Oh? Three wishes in one breath. I see you still haven't understood your mistake."
As she spoke, dense footsteps thundered in from behind. Large numbers of allied troops had arrived and sealed off the area completely. Seeing so many Astartes surrounding him, Savrok only sank deeper into despair.
Even if he detonated the melta charges on his person and took everyone with him, it would change nothing now.
He had no chance of surviving.
"Father, how should this traitor be dealt with?" Bruce arrived with two Black Guards. They bound the surrendered Savrok and forced him to kneel to await judgment.
"Not yet."
Once Savrok was kneeling, Curze hopped lightly and planted one foot squarely on his face. She ground it back and forth over him while snarling out curses.
"So it was you, huh? You were the one mocking me?"
"Come on, then! Keep talking! It's not as if I'm not giving you the chance!"
Savrok did not dare make a sound.
Being stepped on in the face was humiliating to both body and soul—but at that moment, what he really wanted to point out to his primarch was that she did not seem to be wearing anything under her skirt.
The crucial parts were still hidden, yes—but from the sheer lack of fabric anchoring anything in place, Savrok got a very bad feeling. Either the design was extremely strange, or there was simply nothing there at all.
Damn it! Who was responsible for maintaining the primarch's image? Not even making sure she wore underwear?
Around them, the assembled Night Lords all breathed a little differently as they watched the scene.
For some reason, the whole thing felt a bit strange.
It almost felt less like their primarch was punishing a traitor and more like she was rewarding him.
Smack—
After stomping until the sole of her foot was damp with sweat, Curze finally snapped and kicked him away with one hard strike.
A crisp crack rang out. Savrok's head twisted at a horrifying angle, almost bent entirely off—but even that was not enough to kill him.
Astartes vitality and regeneration were far too monstrous for such an injury to be fatal.
"Hah."
Satisfied after venting her anger, Curze tapped the toe of her boot against the floor a few times, adjusting it back into a comfortable position before letting the sole settle flat on the ground again.
Then she turned back toward Bruce and issued her order.
"New recruit, I'm leaving this one to you."
She had already vented plenty of anger. There was no need to dirty her own hands further. More importantly, Bruce was the one now speaking for the Night Lords. Curze had no intention of interfering in any decision this new recruit made.
Whether he killed Savrok, persuaded him to surrender, or tortured him—that was Bruce's freedom.
"Any way I like?" Bruce looked at the disheveled Savrok, his face covered in blood and dust, and asked for confirmation.
"Mm. Anything you want."
At that moment Curze was facing away from Bruce, while three Black Guards helped her change her shoes. One knelt down to serve as a seat with her back, while the other two worked on replacing the sweat-damp pair.
Those had been Sevatar's standing instructions: no matter what happened, the primarch's dignity had to be preserved at all times.
And the Black Guards took immense pride in it.
Because they had the right to keep the discarded shoes and clothing afterward.
Within the Legion, such things were priceless treasures—valuable enough to buy back a life when necessary.
"All right. I understand."
Bruce drew a deep breath, then turned to Savrok, whose face was twisted with humiliation and resentment, yet who did not dare resist.
On one side stood the acting commander deeply favored by the primarch. On the other, a prisoner brought low by rebellion. There was no comparison between them.
Savrok wanted to live, which meant he had to endure. More than that, he even had to try currying favor with Bruce—despite never having truly respected him.
"Acting Commander, I—"
Boom.
A single bolter shot cut off his voice.
The mass-reactive shell blew Savrok's head apart instantly. Then Bruce brought up his lightning claws and tore straight through both master-crafted armor and chest, crushing the two hearts still beating inside.
That settled it. Savrok was dead beyond all question. Even if one of the Chaos Gods had been present in person, they would not have been able to bring him back on the spot.
And why kill this heretic so decisively?
Because Bruce needed to ensure the timeline changed.
The easiest way to alter the plot was simple: save someone who was supposed to die, or kill someone who wasn't supposed to. Savrok—the future Painted Count—was exactly that kind of variable. So long as he died here, the future was guaranteed to shift.
Whew…
After finishing the act, Bruce let out a long breath.
But just as he turned to explain himself to the primarch behind him, a wave of icy dread began spreading through the area.
Then he realized everyone around him was gone.
Just a moment ago there had still been battle-brothers everywhere. Now the place had become eerily empty.
"Hm?"
Bruce understood at once that something was wrong. He raised both claws and watched the surroundings warily.
When things looked like this, either there was a ghost—
—or one was about to appear.
"What a marvelous change…"
An airy, mocking voice drifted out of nowhere.
At the same time, a freezing presence poured into Bruce from all directions. He had never felt cold like this before. His thoughts and soul both began to falter under the pressure, and he found he could barely breathe.
Then Savrok's corpse—the one Bruce had just blown apart and torn open—suddenly rose into the air in twisted suspension. A cluster of ghostly blue flames emerged from the wounds, gathering into the shape of a long-necked bird unlike anything natural.
"You have brought change to this world."
"You deserve my reward."
"Bruce Wayne."
"I think…"
"...we should talk."
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 175)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 126)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter105)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter100)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter82)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter134)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 70
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 87
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 79
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass 64
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 73
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 45
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 49
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 45
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 45
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