In Warhammer, throwing a muddle is impossible.

"I'll fucking kill you!!!" Vlad's glasses flashed red, the humiliation of being slapped in that area driving him completely berserk. "I'm going to chop off that tail and roast it!!!"

"Unforgivable... Absolutely unforgivable!" Caesar's knuckles turned white as he gripped the twin swords, all elegance vanished, replaced by savagery. "I'll slice you into sashimi!"

When Forgrim saw the three ants who had been listless just moments before suddenly unleash a killing intent even more terrifying than that of the Khorne Berserker, he was momentarily stunned.

"Oh? Such extreme emotions..."

Fugrim took a deep breath, a look of ecstasy on his face. "Anger, shame, disgust... what wonderful seasoning. Your souls have become even more delicious."

But he had no idea what he was about to face.

The battle broke out again.

But this time, the rhythm has completely changed.

If the four of them were "fighting" just now, then they are now "fighting desperately".

Moreover, it was the kind of desperate struggle driven by personal grudges.

"Go to hell! You filthy thing!"

Osiris charged ahead, the trigger of his plasma rifle welded shut.

He didn't care about the possibility of accidental injury; he only had one thought in his mind right now.

Let's completely wipe out that dead snake on the other side!

Each burst of plasma energy, imbued with his rage against the "unclean," slammed heavily against Forgrim's psionic shield.

"Is this still the same silent apothecary from before?" Westerio stared in disbelief.

Vlad completely abandoned dodging, maxed out his health bar, and decided to rely on his high health to engage in close-quarters combat.

His claws no longer sought vital points, but instead stared intently at the snake's tail, each strike attempting to tear off a piece of flesh.

"Chop it up! Chop it up!" Vlad shouted as he chopped.

Caesar's twin swords transformed into countless afterimages.

Driven by rage, Caesar's sword speed exceeded all limits, each strike incredibly fast, even leaving deep marks on Forgrim's armor.

Fogrem's previously composed expression gradually disappeared.

He discovered that this group of "ants" had gone mad.

That reckless fighting style, that gaze that seemed to want to devour him alive, gave the Primarch a thrill.

"enough!"

Fugrim swung all four arms, the blades transforming into a storm that exploded around him, attempting to drive back the pack of mad dogs.

But Solomon had been preparing for a long time.

"Divine Shield!"

A golden light curtain opened, forcefully withstanding the impact.

"Who exactly are you people?!"

"This power...this fighting style...you are definitely not ordinary Astartes!" Fugrim said curiously.

"You're the one who'll take your life!" Taking advantage of Fogrem's distraction, Vlad slashed his lightning claws hard at the tip of Fogrem's tail, drawing a spray of blood.

"what!!!"

Fogrim let out a piercing scream.

It wasn't because of the pain, but because of the anger at the destruction of one's own "perfection".

"How dare you injure my perfect body!"

Slaanesh's power surged wildly within him, and his speed increased to a new level.

when!when!when!

A series of rapid clanging sounds rang out.

Even though Caesar's Chanabal saber was infused with adamantite, it was still just a prototype, and it eventually succumbed to its strain after repeated clashes with demonic weapons.

Click!

With a sharp crack, Caesar's saber broke in his right hand.

Fogrem seized on this weakness.

"Die! Now, I'll give your soul a proper welcome!"

The longsword in his hand, like a venomous snake's tongue, was aimed at Caesar's throat at an extremely tricky angle.