That golden figure was utterly unstoppable.
Any foe that dared stand in its way was obliterated by the twin holy flame swords—burned to ash, even their souls erased.
"Hissss~ The Emperor's clone-body is ferocious! Infinite stamina, infinite warp charge… no wonder they call Him the man closest to a god!"
Eden was on a killing spree.
His power sword never stopped swinging, as if he had endless strength to spare. It felt like he could fight ten thousand enemies without pause.
He hacked his way through the Chaos tide as if it were nothing.
"You're not escaping."
Eden's blade swept down toward a shifty-eyed Lord of Change. He had noticed that crooked-necked blue-feathered schemer long ago.
The daemon had hidden in the Chaos tide, harassing him with sorcery again and again, insufferably annoying.
But the flaming sword cut through empty air—the Weaver's body dissolved into a fractured illusion.
Clang!
The trickster had deceived the Savior, then struck from behind with a warp-forged venom blade, aimed straight at Eden's kidney, carrying toxins meant to cripple psykers.
Yet the blow failed even to scratch the golden armor.
Eden slowly turned his head toward the Weaver, his gentle smile appearing utterly terrifying to daemonic eyes.
"You dare trick, you dare strike me, the Savior?!"
The Lord of Change clutched the snapped dagger, his long avian head frozen, his entire body quivering like a leaf.
He bowed low before the Savior, eyes wide in fearful reverence.
"By the Cursed One above, O great Hope Primarch, Daemon-Eater… I beg you, spare me!"
Eden's voice carried no wrath, but soothing warmth:
"You are perceptive. I'll allow you to run first."
Whoosh!
The Weaver reacted instantly, bolting before Eden's words had even finished.
He flapped furiously, darting into the densest knot of the daemon tide, desperate to escape Eden's range and melt back into the horde.
Yet as he fled, dread prickled his soul.
Instinct screamed of impending doom.
He risked a glance back—squawked in terror, wings thrashing.
Behind him, the Hope Primarch raised his power sword. Holy fire surged forth, the blade stretching into a forty-meter-long greatsword.
"I already gave you a head start. If you fail, don't blame me!"
Eden poured more sacred psychic might into the weapon and brought it down.
The colossal flame cleaved across the void, cutting the five-meter-tall Weaver in two. The daemon shrieked, then burst apart into cinders.
"Ha!! I've had enough of you wretches! Come on—every filthy daemon, die for me!!"
He tore into them again, seizing a Keeper of Secrets by her delicate throat.
Ignoring her flawless beauty, her pale curves, her pleading whimpers, Eden pummeled her face with brutal, hammering fists.
Such merciless savagery from the Savior sent shockwaves of terror through the Chaos host.
The Slaaneshi daemons especially shrieked in fear, utterly unnerved.
"THE SAVIOR… KA'BANDHA WILL TAKE YOUR HEAD!!"
At that moment of dread silence, the roar of the Supreme Bloodthirster thundered out.
Ka'Bandha had arrived.
His challenge was fearless, his bellow shaking the battlefield.
The sound carried through the entire warzone. All turned to hear it. Even the chaos of battle stilled, quieting around them.
"Oh?
Old Ka'Bandha wants a duel?!"
Eden heard the Bloodthirster's challenge. He slammed one more punch into the Keeper of Secrets, then flung her broken body aside, where she whimpered faintly.
He turned toward the source of that roar.
And there he saw it—the towering Bloodthirster, his frame wreathed in bloodfire, war-hunger blazing.
"Th—the Cursed One?!"
Ka'Bandha froze when his eyes beheld Eden's radiant golden form. His heart lurched.
The severed head of Syll'esh the Doom of Secrets slipped from his claws, thudding to the ground. Even the fire on his horns bristled stiff.
Any daemon that beheld the Cursed One would feel terror gnaw their soul. Even the Chaos Gods tread carefully before His shadow.
But then—Ka'Bandha looked again.
Not the Cursed One. No…
It was the Savior, the Hope Primarch!
That face. That hated, dreaded face.
How many nightmares had it haunted him?
How often had it cowed him into silence, frozen him from battle, burrowed into his heart as a crippling fear?
Only recently had he clawed free of that terror.
"Savior! My eternal foe! Is this your true strength?!"
Ka'Bandha trembled as he felt the Primarch's boundless power. His blood-red eyes quivered, his immense body shuddering.
This couldn't be right.
Eden's colossal form shimmered with molten gold, drenched in daemon blood and shattered limbs, more terrifying than ever.
When he turned with his twin holy flame swords in hand, the Chaos host parted before him, unwilling to be caught in his gaze.
The Savior's attention fell upon Ka'Bandha.
Other Greater Daemons stared at the Bloodthirster, aghast.
"You? Duel the Savior—now wielding the power of the Cursed One?!"
Impossible.
No chance of victory. Only certain death—body and soul annihilated.
Ka'Bandha swallowed hard.
"Damn it! Why has he grown so strong?! Must I forever remain beneath him?!"
The Supreme Bloodthirster seethed with bitter despair.
He had pursued Eden with all his might, breaking his chains of fear, ready at last to battle him as an equal…
Yet now, his foe wielded the might of the Cursed One itself.
When Eden turned fully toward him, the dread he had just cast aside returned sharper than ever.
Ka'Bandha faltered.
"Impossible… I cannot fight him. Perhaps… I must retreat…"
He racked his mind, seeking some way to withdraw without disgrace.
Just run? Cover his face and flee?
But then—he saw the eyes of the Khorne daemons around him.
Their gazes burned with awe.
This was valor. This was the courage of a true champion of the Blood God.
Only with such fearlessness could one crush all foes.
"KA'BANDHA—VICTORY!!"
As the Bloodthirster grit his teeth, ready to turn and flee, the daemons raised their axes and roared his name.
They hailed him for daring to challenge the impossible.
Now he was trapped.
All battles nearby had paused. Every gaze fixed upon him and the Savior.
The duel of the age was about to begin.
Ka'Bandha froze mid-turn, tears threatening his eyes. Only one thought echoed within him:
Damn it all!
Why had he spoken?
Now, under the weight of so many stares, to flee would mean mockery eternal.
His hard-earned name, his terror-forged honor, all would crumble. He would be a laughingstock in the warp.
In his mind's eye, he saw himself cast down, stripped of rank, mocked by rival Bloodthirsters.
Even Khorne's gaze would turn away.
Yet if he pressed the challenge, death was certain—his soul to burn forever in the fire of the Cursed One.
His heart clenched, fear swelling deeper than ever.
Worse than before.
Now, he couldn't even raise his head to meet the Savior's eyes.
"Perhaps… no one would mock such retreat…"
His aura shrank, his massive body slumping.
He whispered to himself:
"The Savior wields the power of the Cursed One. None can prevail…"
He wanted to run.
The daemons on the field saw Ka'Bandha's hesitation; the mood sagged, even the Khornate host fell gradually silent.
A faint disappointment showed in their eyes.
Yet none mocked or blamed the Supreme Bloodthirster.
For his opponent was the Daemon-Eater, the Voidstorm, the Hope Primarch—the Savior who now wielded the might of the Cursed One!
That golden figure had crushed every daemon with invincible poise. None could stand against him.
Perhaps for countless nights to come, the daemons of Chaos would shiver at that aureate silhouette, cursing the Imperium for harboring such a man.
Chaos would struggle to win and suffer defeat after defeat.
"Looks like this duel won't happen."
Eden glanced at the Supreme Bloodthirster without a word—no mockery, no gloating.
It was just as well. He did not wish to duel Old Ka today.
He was too ruthless right now.
Once they started, he doubted he could pull his blows. If he slipped and killed Old Ka, wouldn't he lose a dear brother-in-arms—his right-hand champion?
Just as he turned to leave, the Bloodthirster's voice rang out—battle-fervor blazing.
"Duel me, Savior—my lifelong foe! Let us end it here on this field!"
Ka'Bandha forced down the terror of the Cursed One and the Savior alike, regripping his blood-axe.
He raised his horned head high; though his voice trembled, it grew steadier:
"I, Ka'Bandha, Supreme Bloodthirster, fear no foe—and dare raise my axe to any being!"
He chose: no more running. No more fear. He would not be prisoner to dread.
Even if he died here, he would swing his axe at the Savior and fight to the bitter end!
While the other daemons scattered in fright, the Supreme Bloodthirster strode forward alone, lifting his axe to face the Hope Primarch—
—to face the man who terrified daemons.
In that instant, the Khornate host's blood ran hot; their earlier gloom blew away.
Weapons thrust skyward, they roared their homage:
"Blood for the Blood God!"
The tide of Chaos parted, opening a path and watching Ka'Bandha march to meet the seemingly unbeatable man.
Eden watched him come, felt the Bloodthirster's resolve. This would be a true duel—with nothing held back.
"Ka'Bandha… I accept."
Eden answered solemnly. In this world, every duel deserved respect.
He would honor this foe—never humiliate him with a pulled strike.
"Saaaa-viour—use all your strength!"
Honored by such respect, Ka'Bandha's eyes held no regret.
Today, he would bring his saga to a close—becoming a legend lost to the warp.
Before the gaze of all fiends, the Supreme Bloodthirster vaulted high, blood-axe scything down with nothing reserved, a crimson gale howling.
So swift—there was no room to dodge.
Boom!
Eden felt the pressure clearly. He raised his twin Holy-Flame swords and caught the blow; stone spider-webbed beneath his boots.
For all its terror, the strike did not truly burden him.
Even as Supreme as he was, Ka'Bandha was far below Eden's present might.
Eden pressed the axe away—
—but Ka'Bandha did not yield. He crashed in close, smashing a brutal headbutt.
He discarded defense entirely, fighting madly—wound for wound, life for life.
"Supreme Bloodthirster, your courage deserves honor. I name you the greatest of Greater Daemons!"
Eden paid him the highest respect—even now, he praised him.
It was to leave this daemon-brother a last dignity, never a shame.
Eden slammed a headbutt in reply, then erupted—blow after blow of sacred fire hewed into the Bloodthirster's frame.
Each strike drew a shudder from the watching Greater Daemons.
Such cuts, if carved into them, would undo their bodies and burn their souls to ash.
Ka'Bandha endured.
Even as holy fire charred his flesh and filled him with primal fear, even as blackened bone showed through—
—he did not bow to the Cursed One's flame. He forced his counter-attacks through.
One desperate cleave bit into the golden plate and traced a thin wound across the Savior's armor.
But that was his limit.
KRRAAASH—
The axe fell; Ka'Bandha spent his last burst of strength and was blasted back, crashing down.
Hardly any sound meat remained on him; bones black and cracked jutted everywhere. He could not even stand.
He had given everything—and could not defeat the Hope Primarch.
No daemon laughed. They looked upon him with reverence. None among them could have done better.
With tragic eyes they watched this champion of the Blood God slip toward final death.
"…Sigh. The daemons invade, yet somehow I look like the big villain here…"
Eden winced at the pathos. He had granted Old Ka his wish for a death-match—yet he might truly lose this daemon-brother.
Whatever help Ka'Bandha had given the Imperium for reasons fair or foul, the two remained foes—righteous and wicked—forever opposed.
"That's farewell, Old Ka. I… will remember you…"
As Eden mourned, a stubborn aura surged again.
Ka'Bandha rose!
That charred, shattered frame staggered upright, clawed up his ruined axe, and faced the terrifying Hope Primarch.
His voice was defiant—and oddly exultant: "Savior, I have not fallen. I… can still fight…
Blood for the Blood God!"
He hurled himself forward anew, eyes iron-bright. If he must die, he would die fighting.
"KA'BANDHA! KA'BANDHA! KA'BANDHA!"
The Khornate daemons howled his name with grim devotion, pouring their slaughter-power toward him—
—to aid their champion.
...
Within the Brass Citadel—
The hordes stood silent, a somber air upon them.
The Hope Primarch was terrifying beyond words.
They had seen Ka'Bandha unbowed beneath the Cursed One's flame. They were humbled by that courage, axes to breast in salute.
"Ka'Bandha… you are the rightful First Among Greater Daemons…"
High upon the brass walls, the former First, Anggrath, hung upside-down, roasting in punishment; a glint of tears and respect welled in his eyes.
Perhaps the Supreme Bloodthirster would be ashes by duel's end—
—but to have such a rival was an honor.
Across all Khorne's domain, the Supreme Bloodthirster had won their hearts—the Blood God's true champion.
Not only Khorne's realm; daemons of the other powers, too, acknowledged him.
The undisputed greatest of Greater Daemons.
For he faced not only the Savior—he faced the power of the Cursed One—and none could have lasted so long as Ka'Bandha had.
Back at the Black Throne field—
"How much top-up did the Blood God just spend on Old Ka to tank like this?!"
Eden battered Ka'Bandha back again, reluctant to strike his "Friend of the Imperium" another killing blow.
Yet the Bloodthirster still fought on, unbowed—his flesh burned away, only blood-smeared bone remaining.
Truthfully, Ka'Bandha held on not only by Khorne's continual benedictions, but by his own will.
Without that, no amount of blessing would suffice.
But against Eden's absolute power, even iron will has limits.
This time, Ka'Bandha couldn't even lift an attack. The axe slipped from his grasp.
"Is… this where my battle ends?"
He fell to one knee, life flickering.
Too much remained undone in his heart; he refused to stop here.
He lifted his head; his voice was faint:
"Blood God, Ka'Bandha wishes to keep fighting!"
The Greater Daemons watched and prayed their champion would rise again.
Perhaps the Blood God would grant more—enough to let him stand against the Savior's Cursed might a while longer.
"Where is the Blood God's blessing?!"
Some daemons burned with that hope. They would not believe Khorne would stint a champion like Ka'Bandha.
In the high dimensions of the warp—
Colors writhed, resisting the golden sanctity eating through them.
The Changer of Ways screamed—the Emperor had him by the scruff, rubbing him into the floor again and again.
He didn't understand—he'd only come to spectate, never even neared Commorragh's webway! How had he been grabbed and pummeled?
Surely there was a mistake?!
Khorne and Slaanesh hunted for an opening, yet dared not cross the boundary.
For the Emperor stood ready to trade His life—an unheard-of thing.
He would slay any god who tried to breach the Commorragh webway—die-god for god.
He had lost once in the webway wars—He would not lose again.
Khorne's attention, however, was not on that god-brawl—it was fixed upon His First Champion.
He felt the tides of daemon-emotion and nearly wept.
It was not miserliness.
Ka'Bandha's valor awed even Him; His blessings had flowed without pause—but the Cursed One's power was too vast.
Khorne's buff-rockets simply couldn't outpace it!
His stored slaughter-tithe was empty—He could grant no more.
For the first time, the Lord of Skulls felt the pinch of an empty purse.
Compared to the Cursed One's bottomless coffers, He was… poor. He could not give his champion further aid.
"Blood God, Ka'Bandha wishes to keep fighting!"
The prayer reached Him again—the champion still wished to fight.
Could He, the Blood God, have less courage than His own servant?
Ka'Bandha's stance left Him no room to retreat.
Khorne felt that indomitable fighting spirit—and burned with shame.
He clenched His metaphysical jaw:
Such a warrior—He must support him!
This was not only Ka'Bandha vs. the Savior—it was Khorne vs. the Cursed One. How could the War-God yield?
His stored slaughter-power was gone—
—but other power remained.
With a wince and a roar, Khorne bled His own essence, tearing free a shard of His divine might—and hurled it to Ka'Bandha…
(End of Chapter)
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