Warhammer 40K in a box

Chapter 633 Fierce Battle of the Primarchs

Fugen's figure suddenly blurred, like a maliciously distorted reflection, or like a drop of water falling into a boiling oil pan, stirring up a blasphemous ripple on the surface of reality.

His movement was not achieved through brute force, but rather through a kind of teleportation that completely disregarded the laws of physics and possessed an eerie elegance.

With a single step, he traversed hundreds of meters of smoke and blood, appearing like a ghost directly at the forefront of the impenetrable steel hand's defenses!

Wherever he passed, the air was torn apart, leaving behind a short-lived trail of psionic energy that constantly flickered with iridescent evil light, like the viscous saliva left by some supreme evil creature, exuding a sweet and rotten aura.

Near the trajectory, several loyal Iron Hand warriors didn't even have time to raise their explosive guns before their heavy power armor melted, twisted, and deformed instantly, as if it had encountered an invisible strong acid. Their flesh and blood inside turned into pools of sizzling, eerily pulsating, colorful gel, resembling some hideous nascent life forms that had been forcibly shaped and were struggling in agony.

This is not killing, but a disgusting "transformation," the most direct display of Slaanesh's power.

This sudden arrival, displaying absolute power and terrifying blasphemy, instantly ignited all the taut nerves on the battlefield to the point of explosion!
Ferrus did not respond verbally.

Her response was the terrifying howl of the massive power hammer known as the "Forge Hammer" tearing through the air—a decisive strike of power concentrated to its extreme, enough to eclipse the stars.

The hammerhead was covered with a kinetic field powerful enough to shatter starship armor. Without any fancy tricks, it smashed straight at Fugen's head, which shimmered with an eerie light and could be described as "perfect," with absolute power and speed, carrying Medusa's cold wind and millennia of resentment.

"boom--!!!"

A deafening roar, far beyond what could be produced by the collision of metal, suddenly erupted!

That was the most primal collision of two completely different Primarch-level forces, a head-on clash between belief and depravity, steel and desire!
The terrifying shockwave spread out in a perfect ring, turning all the rubble, debris, abandoned armor, and even corpses within tens of meters into dust. Even the hard ground cracked and caved in, forming a huge radial crater!
Fu Gen did not dodge.

He raised an arm covered in ornate, grotesque armor, its curves so perfect they were almost unsettling. The demonic sword known as the "Man-Piercing Sword" gracefully parried the earth-shattering blow with a seemingly effortless yet incredibly precise motion.

Where sword and hammer clashed, it was not a metallic clang, but rather an explosion of blinding psionic lightning and scattering sparks of energy like molten gems. The very fabric of space seemed to twist and dent in agony, refracting bizarre and fantastical subspace colors.

"The power is still so intoxicating, my dear sister! This cold hardness, this stubbornness that refuses to melt, always stimulates my senses most profoundly!" Fugen's voice carried an exaggerated, venomous admiration, while his other three arms suddenly shot out like lurking vipers, the weapons in his hands—a demonic blade that constantly hissed with blasphemous tones, a rapier that flowed with a mind-bending aura of desire, and a whip-like chain inlaid with countless tormented souls and constantly twisting—transformed into three deadly, dazzling evil lights, attacking Felus's vital points from various unbelievable angles that defied human ergonomics.

His attacks were not simply killings, but rather a dance of death filled with malice, pursuing the ultimate "artistic sense" and "expressiveness." Each strike was designed to strip away armor, create wounds, and bring the greatest pain and visual humiliation. He sought a morbid beauty that was sublimated in destruction, rather than instantaneous death.

Ferrus, like an anvil standing firm in a storm, responded with absolute calm and near-mechanical precision.

Her fighting style is the ultimate embodiment of the Tenth Legion's steel philosophy: efficient, ruthless, and devoid of any superfluous emotion. Every movement is meticulously crafted, aimed directly at the ultimate goal. Each powerful swing of her Forge Hammer is accompanied by the sound of wind and thunder, forcing Fuggen to concentrate on blocking or dodging. Her Gorgon Skin, a liquid metal, can sometimes harden instantly and extend into an indestructible tower shield, and at other times it can launch incredibly sharp metal spikes like living things in a fierce counterattack, even simulating the force field sheen of powered weapons.

Her steps were steady as a mountain, and she could always evade Fugen's strange, cunning, and evil attacks with the slightest movement at the last second, like the most precise instrument.

New, deep scratches and charred marks from energy weapons were constantly added to her silver-gray power armor. Some wounds were even deep enough to expose bone, or reveal the complex mechanical structure and bionic tissue beneath, which flickered with electric sparks. But she seemed oblivious to it all. Her will was like solid ice encasing a star. Only in her silver eyes burned a chilling hatred and an unwavering determination.

This was a godlike war that completely transcended mortal comprehension.

Their Primarch-level power and speed made every clash like a cataclysmic collision, each strike of their weapons shaking the very foundations of reality, and the dissipated energy was enough to easily tear apart a company of ordinary Astartes.

The magnificent final forge plaza beneath their feet continuously cracked, melted, and then reformed into a bizarre glassy state in the dissipating high temperature.

The towering, already stalled giant furnaces around them trembled precariously from the violent energy shockwaves, their surfaces constantly shedding huge chunks of metal, as if offering a heavy drumbeat for this duel.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of ozone, the stench of sulfur, the heat of molten metal, and a cloyingly sweet fragrance that could subtly erode one's will—this was the pollution of the real world by the power of Slaanesh.

Fugen grew increasingly excited, his attacks becoming more and more flamboyant and extravagant, like a mad artist intoxicated with his own creations, playing a brutal symphony with destruction and pain as its notes.

His laughter, like honey-soaked silver bells, echoed across the bloody battlefield, yet it was also infiltrated with chilling, mad whispers that pierced the very soul, drilling directly into the minds of those who listened.

"Yes! That's it! Feel it! Feel the surge of this dark gift! Feel the ultimate existence! Why resist it with cold reason? Look at this power, this freedom, this supreme joy! Embrace it! You and I should share this eternal, twisted perfection! What a magnificent sight that would be!"

Ferrus responded with silence throughout, like the most sophisticated and ruthless killing machine, constantly calculating, parrying, and counterattacking.

She was indeed "retreating," her steps seemingly laborious and slow as she moved backward under Fugen's frenzied, storm-like onslaught, inch by inch, steadily approaching the core area of ​​the static force field.

As her armor began to break more and more, she couldn't parry in time. Fugen's rapier, which shimmered with the glow of desire, even managed to strike her heavy shoulder armor with a subtle touch. The sinister power instantly eroded and disintegrated the composite armor, cutting a deep wound that revealed the bone. The silver-gray metal rolled up, revealing the intricate and complex mechanical structure and bionic muscle fibers beneath, which were now flashing with electric sparks.

A drop of silvery molten metal seeped from the edge of the wound, then stretched and dripped down by its own gravity, creating a tiny crater in the scorched earth.

(End of this chapter)