Warhammer Cultivation: Cultivating the Tao Te Ching in the 40K Universe

The armor was devoid of any superfluous decorations, possessing only the purest, most streamlined beauty. He wore no helmet, revealing a face so handsome it would make even the gods envious.

His hair cascaded down his shoulders like a waterfall. A confident and elegant smile played on his lips.

He is the embodiment of the word "perfection".

But what's most eye-catching is the sword in his hand.

That sword seemed to possess a life of its own. The silver light flowing across its blade, like liquid mercury, radiated a mesmerizing, dreamlike glow under the soft light of the arena.

It doesn't resemble a weapon; it's more like... a sacred relic from a lost mythological era, possessing incredible power.

When Lucius walked to the center of the arena and gave the Primarch's box a flawless chest-touching salute, the entire "Phoenix Nest" erupted in a thunderous cheer that came from the depths of the soul!

"Lucius! Lucius! The perfect son!"

The cheers were uniform and filled with religious fervor, as if they were about to overturn the force field of the dome!

Lucius smiled, savoring the moment. He slowly raised the sword of Ral in his hand.

Then, the demonstration began.

That was not a battle.

It was a... sword dance.

A divine dance that perfectly blends violence and art.

His first movement was slow. It was just a simple, textbook thrust. But the tip of the sword left a straight, lingering silver trail in the air, like a light pen drawn in the dark.

Precise, stable, even the vibrations of the armor and the sword were eliminated.

Then came the slash. His body spun like a top. The Sword of Ral, in his hand, transformed into a silver, ever-expanding full moon! The sword light was so pure, so perfect, that it didn't even stir up the slightest gust of wind!

A perfect circle! Even the reflection is flawless!

His sword dance grew faster and faster!

His movements were no longer bound by the laws of mortal physics. At times, he was like a ghost, leaving a series of blurry afterimages in place; at other times, he was like a startled swan, flashing from one end of the arena to the other in an instant at a speed that surpassed the limits of vision!

His sword transformed into hundreds of streaks of light! These streaks intertwined and swirled in the air, forming breathtakingly beautiful paintings composed of pure geometry and light and shadow! Sometimes they resembled blooming roses, sometimes soaring phoenixes, sometimes swirling nebulae…

He was no longer a warrior.

He is an artist! A great artist... who is using the sharpest brush in the universe to depict the true meaning of "perfection" on the canvas of reality!

The entire "Phoenix Nest" was already deathly silent.

Chapter 81 The Champion's Tragedy

All the emperor's sons were frozen in place by Medusa's gaze, staring blankly at the scene before them that exceeded the limits of their imagination.

Their breaths had long since stopped. Their heartbeats seemed to be in perfect harmony with the rhythm of the sword light.

Even in the Primarch's private room, a dazzling light burst forth from his violet eyes!

"Look! Hector!" His voice was filled with excitement. "He has surpassed the limits, surpassed the limits of Astartes!"

Only Hector remained calm.

He simply sighed softly in his heart.

“No, my Primarch,” he answered in his mind, “He is merely…burning.”

Under his "Aura Observation Technique," he clearly saw that Lucius's pale, burning soul fire, which was already burning like a supernova, was being consumed at a frantic, suicidal rate!

The sword of Ral, like a greedy vampire, absorbs all the burning life essence and transforms it into a more magnificent and deadly illusion!

This is the most magnificent... magic show, fueled by life itself.

Just then, the sword dance on the field reached its climax!

Lucius let out a shout filled with ecstasy and power!

He poured all his life force, all his will, and all his pride into the demonic sword in his hand without reservation!

“Buzz——!!!”

The Sword of Ral erupted with an unprecedented, dazzling light that could outshine even the stars!

The light was no longer pure silver, but had a hint of... an eerie, alluring purple!

A purple sword light, hundreds of meters long and composed of pure spiritual energy, soared into the sky, seemingly capable of cleaving through space itself!

Fugrim stood up, opened his arms, and let out a praise full of joy and pride!

From the Primarch's perspective, Lucius's swordsmanship and martial prowess were not particularly remarkable, but he did surpass the limits of the Third Legion's Astartes. The pursuit of the limit is precisely what Forgrim currently understands as "perfection."

However, it was precisely at this moment—

At that most brilliant and perfect peak—

A very faint, discordant sound, like a snapping string, suddenly appeared in the magnificent symphony.

A crisp "crack" rang out. Clear. Harsh. Not metal. It was bone.

The smiles on everyone's faces froze instantly.

In the center of the arena, Lucius stood frozen. Then, under the gaze of tens of thousands of eyes, his arm bent backward at an angle that defied all biological principles.

Then came the second sound, the third sound...

"Crack! Crack! Crack!"

A dense, cracking sound, like popping beans, rang out wildly from beneath his seemingly perfect power armor!

His spine arched backward uncontrollably, forming a terrifying, inhuman curve!

His limbs, like puppets manipulated by an invisible hand, twisted and broke, piercing through the sturdy terracotta armor, exposing the stark white bone fragments and the eerie, constantly writhing purple tendons!

"Ah... ah ah..."

From Lucius's mouth came inhuman groans, filled with pain and... extreme ecstasy!

On his face, which was as handsome as a god, all the features began to melt and distort! His eyes burst open from their sockets, turning into two empty holes burning with purple flames!

His mouth split open to his ears, and a long, barbed tongue, like a snake's forked tongue, darted out and greedily licked the air!

"This...this is..."

Forgrim's smile froze. He felt no horror, only a sense of... collapse.

It was as if all the cornerstones he had used to build his 'perfect' palace throughout his life had turned to dust in that instant, and his soul was falling weightlessly from a great height into an endless, ugly abyss.

Fabius Bayer, standing beside him, wore a look of astonishment and disbelief on his slightly pale face, which was pale from confidence.

"No...it's impossible...the data...the data is wrong..."

However, the most terrifying and ugliest "artistic creation" has only just begun.

"Fuck-"

The flawless power armor that Lucius wore, crafted by a legendary artisan, began to melt, like a wax figure thrown into a furnace!

The purple, scorching molten ceramsite completely merged with his constantly mutating and multiplying flesh and blood!

His back was suddenly ripped open! Two enormous, insect-like claws covered in purple carapace emerged, dripping with blood! His legs melted into a pool of writhing, slug-like flesh!

That sword, Ral, seemed to have come to life!

It emitted a joyful hum, and the flowing silver light on the sword's blade completely transformed into an eerie purple!

Countless purple energy tendrils, like blood vessels, extended from the hilt of the sword and pierced Lucius's arm, turning him and the demonic sword into an inseparable symbiotic entity!

In just over ten seconds, the legion champion, once hailed as the embodiment of "perfection," was transformed, before the very eyes of tens of thousands of his brothers, from a god into something... indescribable, twisted, abhorrent, and blasphemous...

"Haha...hahahaha...I...I feel it..."

The monster let out a raucous, agonizing laugh in a shrill voice that was a mixture of several different tones.

"...More...pleasure! More...pain! This...this is...true...perfection!!!"

The thunderous cheers abruptly ceased.

The entire Phoenix Nest fell into a deathly silence more terrifying than a vacuum. Tens of thousands of Space Marines seemed to have their throats gripped by a collective force.

Immediately afterwards, the first suppressed gasp, filled with disgust and disbelief, rang out, like a signal that instantly ignited the entire stands!

Their worldview, their proud belief in "perfection," was shattered at this moment by this extreme and undeniable "ugliness."

Some weak-willed warriors couldn't even withstand the sudden and enormous contrast, and felt nauseous.

Their stomachs were churning.

Meanwhile, Bayer was still muttering, "Data... data overflow..."

Chapter 82 Blade of Fire

The initial astonishment, like a crack in ice, vanished in the face of Bayer's logic-driven thinking.

Then, a more powerful flame called 'the thirst for knowledge' instantly engulfed all emotions. What he saw was no longer failure, but data!

It was unprecedented, beyond the Emperor's decree, the most precious data belonging to 'evolution' itself! His eyes, wide with shock, burst forth with an unprecedented, morbid light!

He rushed to the edge of the private room, staring intently at the constantly mutating monster below, muttering to himself as if in a dream:

"Unprecedented gene expression! It...it has broken through! It has truly broken through the shackles set by the Emperor! Although...although the form is somewhat unexpected, this...this is true 'evolution'! This is the posture of 'god'! Data...I need more data!"

Far from feeling fear, he was completely captivated by this "new species" full of unknowns and possibilities!

However, his Primarch, Forgrim, seemed to have all his strength drained away, and slowly slumped back onto his magnificent couch.

His eyes, which once shone like violet gemstones, have now completely lost all their luster.

He saw more than just Lucius's ugliness.

What he saw was the ultimate reflection of his own ridiculous pursuit of "perfection".

Fragile, false, and vulnerable.

The twisted, hideous monster dancing wildly in the center of the arena, and his own soul, already corrupted by the black void of "dissatisfaction," slowly overlapped at this moment.

"This...is this my perfection?"

From his mouth came a voice that didn't sound like his own, a voice filled with self-doubt and like a dream.

"A magnificent..."

Just then, the monster, which had completely lost its human form, seemed to sense the "delicious" aroma emanating from the Primarch, a mixture of fear and self-doubt.

Its two hollows, burning with purple flames, suddenly turned towards the Primarch's private room!

It let out a shriek filled with greed and joy, and dragged its writhing, slug-like lower body toward the private room in a nauseating manner!

"My Lord! Come! Join me in sharing this... ultimate 'perfection'!!!"

At this moment, the entire "Phoenix Nest" was finally awakened from its deathly silence!

Panic, like a real plague, instantly ignited the entire scene!

Hector Kane, on the other hand, simply stood quietly in his own secluded shadow.

His face showed no shock, only a deeper sense of pity for this inevitable tragedy.

He slowly closed his eyes.

He knew that the string, stretched to its limit, had finally...

......

Inside the "Phoenix Nest," time seems to be frozen into an eternal glacier by the extreme ugliness and desecration.

The cheers and praises that once symbolized the pinnacle of the legion's glory had already come to an abrupt end the moment the first cracking sound rang out, leaving only a deathly silence.

Tens of thousands of Space Marines, the most resilient and proudest warriors in the galaxy, were now like mortals facing the terrors of the universe for the first time, nailed to their moon-white crystal seats, unable to move.

Their senses, their beliefs, their proud pursuit of "perfection," were all shattered by the writhing, multiplying mass of flesh and blood that had once been called Lucius.

Panic, like an invisible plague, spread wildly across the desolate ruins.

The monster, the former champion swordsman, was dragging his writhing, slug-like lower body, leaving a nauseating trail of viscous fluid and purple filth on the smooth, mirror-like white marble floor.

Its two hollows, burning with purple flames, were fixed on the direction of the Primitive Chamber. The piercing shrieks, a mixture of several different voices, were filled with the most twisted yet sincere "love" and "sharing" for its creator.

"My Lord! Come! Join me in sharing this... ultimate 'perfection'!!!"