This is our Warhammer journey

Chapter 266 Lemanrus: Only true warriors deserve to be my son!

"Bjorn is the champion!"

A deep roar, like thunder, rolled through the hall.

"Oh!"

Thousands of goblets slammed onto the oak table, the golden foam from the splashing mead shimmering in the torchlight.

Bjorn is still the champion!

The red-haired giant raised his blood-stained battle axe high above his head, the blade reflecting the light from the chandelier and casting a giant wolf-headed shadow on the stone wall.

"Oh!!"

The wolves' echoes created a second wave of sound, causing the smoked ham hanging from the beam to tremble.

Bjorn is always the champion!

As the bronze bells rang, Bjorn's scarred chest heaved violently.

"Oh oh oh!!!"

The Fenris warriors pounded their breastplates with their fists, and as the bronze bell fell again, the towering red-haired man in the center raised his axe once more, while the howls of the wolves continued incessantly.

The surrounding dark angels, led by the Knight King, also paid their respects in unison.

"So strong."

Even Arthur couldn't help but sigh, watching the ripples in his hand caused by the trembling of the wine. Then he turned slightly to the side, his deep red cloak sweeping over the bone relief, and gently placed his palm on the trembling shoulder armor of a dark angel.

The warrior's visor was shattered, and the pupil of his right eye, still throbbing with undiminished fighting spirit, was contracting violently.

"It's not your fault. Bjorn has been systematically worshipped by the Space Wolves for ten thousand years. Just the name itself has a special advantage, especially since Fenris also possesses the Soul of the World. You didn't lose unjustly."

He explained the reason to the veterans in a low voice.

In terms of combat skills and physical attributes alone, Kai, including the Dark Angels of the Broken Claw Order, are already the pinnacle of Astartes, but they just can't beat Bjorn.

Upon hearing His Highness's explanation, the old soldier from the Broken Claw Order slowly removed his tattered helmet, revealing a face etched with crisscrossing scars. His breathing gradually became steady, and the resentment in his eyes receded like a tide, finally turning into a heavy sigh.

The expressions of the crowd, who had initially felt ashamed of their defeat in the duel, softened considerably.

They accepted the answer.

My own stats are normal, even higher than Bjorn's, but Bjorn can deal 1000 damage with only 100 attack power. It would be a miracle if I could win.

"The significance of leading five people to a draw against the Fallen Primarch."

Ramses added:
In the Battle of the Longtooth, Bjorn led the 12th Space Wolves against the Thousand Sons' attack, fighting against Magnus with the assistance of the then 12th Space Wolves' lord, Vol Grelock, and his personal guards.

The battle raged in the ruins of the Wolffang Keep hangar, with both sides fighting their way to the open slopes surrounding Wolffang Keep. Bjorn used fire and swords to inflict severe damage on Magnus, inflicting the most serious wounds on the Fallen Primarch since the Horus Rebellion.

They held out until the main force of the Space Wolves returned to reinforce them. Wolf Lord Greylock was killed in action, and Bjorn was only injured by his weapons. He was about to throw Magnus off a cliff when he was persuaded by the other Wolf Lords to leave the battlefield. The wolves then completely banished the seriously injured Magnus.

This inevitably brings to mind a certain Primarch that will one day wage war against Magnus on the moon.

"The master of the subspace is the master."

Listening to his companion's sentiments, Arthur watched as Bjorn lifted his opponent up on the dueling platform, shared a drink, and then smiled broadly.

a thousand years.

Enduring pain that ordinary people cannot bear, and doing things that the original body cannot do, the legend ferments naturally over time like mead.

In a sense, this is indeed an honor that this veteran deserves.

Not everyone has the luck and willpower to persevere until now.

It should be noted that on the day Bjorn was carried into the Dreadnought, the sound of horns startled the predators of the Fenris Permafrost Sea. At that time, this wolf guard was already over a thousand years old.

“He looks younger than Logan now.”

Ramses was earnestly explaining the advantages of the Warp to the Dark Angels when he caught sight of Logan, who had just entered the hall, and immediately began to dramatically spread his arms wide in a gesture.

This caused Logan's weathered face to twitch involuntarily. Putting everything else aside, this reunion completely shattered his image of the Primarchs as sacred and noble.

Especially this Qianzi, he's a complete social terrorist.

"Figured out?"

Arthur ignored his companion's daily, routine warp ramblings, and simply turned slightly to cast an inquiring glance at the old wolf.

"Ah."

Logan nodded, then strode heavily to the seat beneath the Primarch and sat down, grabbing the jug and pouring himself a glass of mead.

“Our past actions were indeed somewhat inappropriate and will disappoint Ruth.”

After saying that, he drank the wine.

He held the wine in his mouth for a while, the mead lingering briefly. The burning sensation felt like countless tiny blades scraping across his esophagus, bringing an almost self-destructive clarity. He closed his eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing, and swallowed the bitter sweetness.

When he looked up again, his gaze passed through the noisy crowd and landed on Bjorn, who had been given a new lease on life.

The wolf guard was laughing loudly as he grabbed the reluctant Kai and forcefully shoved a wine glass into his palm, his joy almost overflowing.

Hmph, he said he wanted to die, but right now he's the happiest person.

"That's right. When we get back, we'll gather a hundred thousand or two hundred thousand space wolves, and with the large fleet, we'll all charge into the Eye of Fear. We'll definitely bring back the Wolf King and the Khan who's racing on the net. We really don't want to eat up this huge pile of Empire right now."

Surrounded by verified beings, Ramses spoke without restraint about secrets unknown even to demons.

Logan's facial muscles twitched slightly, and an unnatural embarrassment appeared on his bronze skin. The Primarch's words sounded like their wolf king was shirking responsibility.

"To put it another way, follow in the footsteps of the wolf king and embark on a journey with him."

Arthur added a few words from the side.

It was immediately apparent that the wolves became energetic.

That's the requirement—

"Two Hundred Thousand Space Wolves"

Thinking of this goal, Logan subconsciously swallowed, feeling a deep pressure from the objective set for him by the Primarch.

"That's probably going to be very difficult."

Logan couldn't help but reply.

Although this Ramses was a smooth talker, he still took the other person's words to heart.

Such a request is really wishful thinking.

Because of the selection of Space Wolves
Robert Guilliman: I have provided you with excellent educational opportunities. Even if you fail the Astartes selection, do not be discouraged. As outstanding as you are, you can still get involved in other affairs of Ottara.

Also, do not call me father; your fathers and mothers are still waiting for you to come home.

Roger Dorn: I have provided you with a proper and effective trial. I believe that you, as nobles of Terra or Invic, have received ample education from a young age and are the finest soldiers. Even if you fail, it is alright. You can still return to your families and serve the Emperor in other ways.

Lehmann Russ: This is the Wolf Spiral that can awaken your genes and allow my gene seed to be implanted into your bodies. The mortality rate is up to fate.

This is the Fenris giant wolf, capable of rivaling Astartes in individual combat; this is the snow lion, able to withstand a direct hit from a bomb with its skull; this is the Kraken siren, numerous in number, each nearly a kilometer in size.

This is Asaheim, teeming with predators, a blizzard with temperatures plummeting to -80 degrees Celsius, and Wolf's Tooth Fortress, perched high in the clouds at an altitude of over 8,000 meters.

You ask me why I brought this up?

Only those who drink the Wolf's Spiral, overcome the darkness in their hearts, avoid being completely controlled by it, survive the blizzard and the encirclement of these creatures, seize the spoils, and reach Wolf Fang Fortress alive deserve to be my son!
Logan's rough fingertips unconsciously traced the rim of his wine glass as his gaze swept over his brothers who were drinking merrily in the hall.

Behind every face are elites selected through Fenris's rigorous trials.

It can only be said that any being who can survive under such conditions, even if not an Astartes, is a remarkable figure among mortals.

　P.S.: More will be added after 11 PM; I'm currently writing.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)