The alloy combat blade sliced through the air, carrying the powerful kinetic energy reinforced by the power armor, and hacked directly toward David's face. Marcus's eyes were bloodshot, ten years of hatred condensed into this single strike. No matter how heavy or helpless David's defense sounded, it appeared pale and weak against the fact of his family's tragic deaths.
David did not retreat. Instead, he lunged forward, condensing a shield of pale gold psychic energy in his palm. In an instant, the two forces collided violently. Cracks immediately spread across the psychic shield. David was jolted back several steps by the massive force, his soles carving two deep furrows into the ground.
"Do you truly leave no room for compromise?" David looked up, his voice carrying a trace of exhaustion.
"Heh. In Lobo City ten years ago, did you leave any room for my family, or for those innocents?" Marcus roared as he rushed forward again. His combat blade swept horizontally, the resulting wind blowing away the ore slag covering the ground. The hydraulic joints of the power armor emitted a piercing roar, each strike as heavy as a mountain.
David stopped explaining and let his psychic power erupt fully. A pale gold halo enveloped his body. He was no longer just the steady, cold Governor; he revealed an unknown side of himself. The two were instantly locked in a fierce struggle. Ore piles were overturned, conveyor belts were severed, and the ground was blasted into deep craters one after another by their clash.
Marcus disregarded his own safety entirely, every move an attempt to trade his life for David's. The alloy shell of the power armor was covered in scratches from the psychic impacts, yet he fought on without fear of death.
"You're mad. You've truly gone mad." David dodged the combat blade with a side-step. The psychic energy in his palm surged abruptly, transforming into a slender light sword that stabbed hard into the joint gaps of Marcus's armor—the weakest points of the power suit.
"What if I am mad?" Marcus seemed oblivious. He used his left arm guard to block. With a crisp crack, the alloy arm guard was pierced by the light sword. The pain from his arm only triggered a deeper ferocity; Marcus swung the blade in his right hand back, aiming directly for David's neck.
"Today, either you die or I do!"
David's pupils shrank. Forced to lean back to dodge, the blade grazed his chin, taking a few strands of hair with it. Borrowing the momentum of his lean, he tapped his toe against the ground and leaped into the air. His psychic energy converged into several light blades that shot toward Marcus in unison.
"Marcus, I felt more pain than you regarding what happened back then. I have remembered those who died for ten years, and I have felt guilty for ten years."
The light blades slammed ruthlessly into Marcus's armor, sending sparks flying everywhere. The surface coating of the armor was shattered, revealing the cold-gleaming alloy lining beneath. Marcus stumbled back two steps. The sensation of psychic burning within him grew more intense, but the crimson in his eyes did not fade in the slightest.
He suddenly raised his hand and pressed the red button on the chest of the armor. The engine immediately went into overload, and a blinding red light pulsed around him as his combat strength surged once more. The price of this maneuver, however, was that his armor would be completely scrapped in half an hour. But Marcus didn't care. The moment he came here, he had prepared himself for death.
Ignoring David's words entirely, Marcus flickered forward like an arrow released from a bow, his combat blade wreathed in violent energy. David looked at the charging Marcus, a flash of resolve crossing his eyes. With a side-roll, he evaded Marcus's attack and reached out to snatch a melta-blade from a fallen guard's waist.
The moment the melta-blade was infused with psychic energy, its crimson fire erupted, even more intense than when the guard had used it. Since Marcus was determined to kill him, they would have a proper battle.
Meanwhile, on the eastern side of the transfer station.
As the battle progressed, Byrne increasingly felt that the silent black-armored warrior before him bore some resemblance to Buer's puppet avatars. However, this opponent's moves were sharper, and his strength was superior.
Though the black-armored warrior hid it well, Byrne detected Chaos energy belonging to Tzeentch within his body through the perception of his psychic threads. With this discovery, Byrne thought of a better strategy. Perhaps he could resolve the enemy before him by relying on the golden light cluster inside his body. But first, he had to break through that layer of black armor.
Byrne moved forward instead of retreating, dodging to the side with a sudden burst of speed. Simultaneously, he pointed Black Fire at the elbow joint of the warrior's left arm and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The psychic bullet hit the target precisely but only left a shallow dent on the alloy armor, kicking up a few sparks.
Heh, as expected, it's not that easy.
After a brief internal complaint, he noted that while the impact was poor, having some effect was better than none. Next, as long as he kept outputting damage to the same spot, he would eventually crack this "black turtle shell."
Having made up his mind, Byrne stopped dodging passively. Weaving and jumping through the area, he constantly sought the right moment to fire at the same spot. Over time, the dent at the elbow joint deepened and widened.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three more precise hits. The final bullet finally pierced the armor at the black-armored warrior's joint, exposing the flesh and veins beneath. Purple Chaos energy leaked from the wound, carrying a pungent and eerie scent.
Good, the chance is here.
Seeing this, Byrne paused his footing before charging straight at the warrior. At the exact moment when the warrior's old strength was spent and new strength had yet to form, Byrne leaped into the air. His right hand reached out like lightning, precisely gripping the damaged joint.
The moment his fingertips touched the flesh, the long-dormant golden light cluster within him woke up with a roar. Carrying an undeniable power of purification, it surged into the warrior through the exposed skin.
The black-armored warrior, who had been as silent as a puppet, let out a roar of pain for the first time. In just a few seconds, the once-mighty warrior completely shattered and dissipated.
Having dealt with the warrior, Byrne took a long breath of relief. Retracting the golden light cluster, he turned his head toward the western side of the transfer station. He wondered how the Captain was doing and hoped everything was going well.
With that thought, Byrne didn't linger and hurried toward the Governor's location. Before he could reach the center of the transfer station, a massive roar erupted from that direction. A violent shockwave of energy slammed into him. Before he could react or even look up, he instinctively crossed his arms in front of his chest. Yet he still couldn't withstand the impact.
He was instantly blown away like he had encountered a super typhoon. Byrne flew back like a kite with a broken string, slamming heavily into a mountain-like pile of ore.
Dammit, who is it? To make such a huge commotion?
Byrne forced himself to stand up, rubbing his aching back.
"Are you alright, Byrne?"
Hearing this, Byrne turned and saw Marco appearing beside him.
"Captain, I'm fine, it's just—"
Byrne stopped mid-sentence. He turned his gaze toward the Governor's location. After the energy shock passed, a massive black cocoon had emerged.