Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 239 Eight-Day Competition
The loser serves the victor for life.

Vulcan made demands that seemed to contradict his magnanimous character, revealing a characteristic of feudal society—conquest and enslavement.

Despite his kindness and compassion, a Primarch still possesses an inherent arrogance.

The Emperor and Durm arrived uninvited and made boastful remarks at the celebration, showing no respect for the locals whatsoever.

They even disregarded the dignity of the king and brazenly challenged a soon-to-be new king.

An ancient Terran proverb says, "Even a clay figure has a bit of fire in it, let alone a Primarch, born to be a war machine."

Vulcan's kindness was not weakness; he decided to punish the foreign madmen who had offended him.

He must establish unquestionable authority and prestige by punishing offenders to prevent more such incidents from happening.

After defeating the strangers, he might forgive them out of kindness, but before that, he must first curb their arrogance.

Vulcan rose, his dark skin gleaming in the dim sunlight, revealing to everyone the powerful strength hidden beneath his bulging muscles.

His stance was imposing, like a giant towering between heaven and earth, his scarlet eyes making him seem like a dark demon with a menacing appearance.

The giant picked up the iron hammer beside the throne—the hammer that had repelled the Dark Eldar and witnessed his first battle and achievements—and slowly walked down from the high platform, his powerful aura pressing down on people's hearts step by step.

The mortals were horrified; the invisible fury unleashed by Vulcan burned their skin and seared their fragile throats bit by bit.

They instinctively retreated, the intense burning sensation in their throats rendering them unable to utter a sound.

Finished!

Doom was inwardly screaming, but outwardly showed no reaction. Unfortunately, his brother had stepped into the Emperor's trap.

The emperor was just looking for a suitable reason to take Vulcan away from Nocturne, and the wager provided just such a reason, which was exactly what the emperor wanted.

The man deliberately made outrageous remarks in order to provoke the mild-mannered Vulcan and induce him to make a bet.

The emperor succeeded; he successfully outmaneuvered his own son.

As expected, the black iron tower pressed closer, but it did not frighten the outsider. Instead, a mysterious smile appeared on his lips because of Vulcan's suggestion.

“I accept your proposal: the loser shall serve the winner for life.” The outsider raised his chin and smiled arrogantly.

The smug expression on his face was seen by the Nocturne alien, who wished he could rush up and tear him apart.

But they also wondered if the outsider had ulterior motives.
Comparing the size and imposing presence of the two sides, the ordinary man frowned in thought, still unable to discern the source of the outsider's confidence.

The tall man in the cloak silently withdrew from the square, making room for the two to compete.

It was clear that although he had come with the shorter man, he did not want to participate in the battle.

A thought suddenly popped into people's minds: Could it be that the dwarf deliberately provoked them, so that he could lose the contest and become a slave of Vulcan?
The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. The Nocturne's eyes were filled with regret, lamenting why he hadn't thought of this way to become a close attendant of the new king and get closer to the new power.

Regardless of what ordinary people might think, Vulcan sensed a sense of crisis from the short man before him.

His keen instincts told him that the person before him was far more powerful than he appeared, and that he should not underestimate him.

"What are you laughing at? What's so funny?" Vulcan asked the provocative middle-aged man in a low voice, his vigilance growing.

He chose to test the waters, using words to probe the challenger in order to gather more information and intelligence.

“Of course I should laugh,” the Emperor replied to Vulcan, his tone no longer smug but full of sincerity: “I am about to gain a powerful warrior, an excellent general, and a commander full of compassion.”

Hmm~~~~
The outsider's words caused an uproar among the crowd. He didn't seem to be seeking refuge through a different route; he genuinely wanted to defeat Vulcan.

"Vulcan! Defeat him!"

Some in the crowd, unable to bear it any longer, roared in anger, urging Vulcan to defeat the enemy.

"defeat him!"

"defeat him!"

His words resonated with many, and more people joined in the shouting, igniting the tense atmosphere at the scene.

“You seem to have me figured out!” Vulcan walked up from the stage to the stranger, looking down at him with wary eyes.

"Let's see who's the best." The Emperor stopped provoking and simply gestured for Vulcan to come at him.

“Then let’s begin our first contest—arm wrestling!” Vulcan slammed his hammer into the ground, the steel striking the stone slab with a clang and sparks.

The emperor laughed heartily, showing no surprise, and agreed to the competition: "You decide the competition."

Having lingered on Nocturne for a long time, the Emperor and Doom not only observed Vulcan but also thoroughly learned about the planet's customs and traditions. This death world, already sparsely populated, was further ravaged by the Dark Eldar, making its population even more dire.

Therefore, although competitions and duels exist on Nocturne, they are conducted in ways that reflect local characteristics.

The two sides used a variety of fighting styles, but all of them stopped short of killing each other.

Arm wrestling, forging, farm work, brewing wine, building houses...

Any matter can be used for comparison, as long as both parties feel they are not at a disadvantage and the most basic notarization is maintained.

"Alright!" Although Vulcan disliked the outsider's provocation, he still admired the man's boldness and uninhibitedness, and he responded with equal boldness: "Wait for me here."

He laughed loudly, strode towards the city gate, and gradually sped away from everyone's sight.

After only a few minutes, the black figure returned, carrying an obsidian slab on its shoulder and a stone stool under its arm.

"A contest needs a venue, and I've prepared the stage for your defeat."

Vulcan roared like thunder, placing the obsidian slab on the stone bench and setting up a stone table for arm wrestling—this was the stage he spoke of.

The emperor held the obsidian, feeling its coldness and resilience, and was very satisfied with the pitch-black stage his son had prepared.

“Come on, prepare for your defeat.” He sat at the table, elbows resting on the obsidian surface, and beckoned to Vulcan.

Vulcan, with his arms outstretched and swords drawn, sat opposite the obsidian, extending his palm for the stranger to shake.

The stark contrast between the black and white fighters, and the enormous physical difference between them, made the serious match seem somewhat comical.

Doom sat under a shed, silently shaking his head; the outcome of the contest was already decided.

Vulcan was indeed powerful, the strongest of his brothers, but he could not possibly defeat the Emperor.

The power possessed by the Lord of Humanity cannot be fathomed by common sense; beneath his seemingly ordinary body lies unfathomable strength.

The outcome of the competition depends on how the emperor wants to win and to what extent the "parent-child interaction" takes place.

He stopped paying attention to the competition between the two sides, sat down at the table, and smiled as he looked at the fruits and vegetables prepared for the celebration. Finally, he could eat some human food.

Instead of waiting for a predetermined outcome, let's savor the food of Nocturne.

Unlike Doom's relaxed demeanor, the Nocturne aliens surrounded Vulcan, cheering on their king.

The emperor held his son's dark arm, feeling its rough texture, as well as the warmth and determination it conveyed.

Vulcan was taken aback. Although his dark face was expressionless, he could still sense the strange feeling conveyed by the outsider.

It was a contradiction of warmth and indifference mixed together, yet also a soul-piercing intimacy, as if we were connected by blood.

"Start!!!" The host's command instantly dispelled the strange feeling and allowed the two sides to begin their competition.

The two began to exert their strength, and despite their vastly different arm sizes, they were evenly matched in terms of power.

Both arm wrestlers were all smiles, and the emperor looked at his son with a mysterious smile on his lips.

Vulcan was even more confident, believing he couldn't possibly lose. He maintained a confident smile on his dark face, but the Emperor's gaze made him feel extremely uncomfortable.

Creep~Creak~
As his strength increased, his arms trembled slightly, and the obsidian panels beneath his elbows creaked.

Vulcan's smile vanished, his expression gradually turning serious. He felt the force he had exerted sink into magma like iron, disappearing without a trace.

The middle-aged man opposite him did not move his arm at all, and the smile on his face did not waver.

So he continued to increase his strength, gradually unleashing the immense power he had hidden and the innate divine strength that had been deeply suppressed!

The veins on his jet-black arms bulged, trembling as they released their power, and the obsidian tabletop began to crack.

Pat-pat~
The tabletop began to crack, and layers of obsidian crumbled, causing the two men's elbows to sink into the surface.

"Get out of the way!" Vulcan roared, ordering the people behind him to leave; he had always kept his eyes on the mortals.

Due to the immense force exerted by the two individuals, the obsidian, layer upon layer, crumbles into sharp fragments that shoot towards the surrounding crowd.

The Nocturne aliens were startled awake and, realizing the seriousness of the situation, immediately retreated.

“That’s what I like most about you, Vulcan.” The middle-aged man’s smile deepened, his admiration evident in his eyes.

(End of this chapter)