The sky of Baal flickered, and in the dim red heavens, countless stars seemed to twinkle, explode, and complete their entire life cycle in an instant.
Dante stood within Angel Keep, gazing at the constantly exploding celestial light beyond the Void Shield, his expression hidden behind the golden mask of Sanguinius.
Each explosion was a clash of steel and flesh; the Blood Angels' warships, forged of iron and electricity, were engaging the Leviathan hive Fleet, grown from flesh and blood.
Bio-plasma, plasma, living projectiles, macro cannons, lances, and torpedoes adorned the sky of Baal like starlight.
And beneath these lights, more unlit battles were taking place in the dark void.
This battle had been going on for a long time; the sun of Baal, shrouded by the hive mind's shadow, had risen and set several times, and even the Scarlet Scar seemed to be obscured by the hive mind, becoming hazy.
Dante often saw even more brilliant explosions, like short-lived suns in the dim red sky of Baal, appearing and vanishing in a blink.
He couldn't tell if it was the light from a Blood Angels' warship exploding or the death wail of a Tyranid warship.
A sadness filled Dante's heart; those warriors, familiar and unfamiliar, were fighting in the void.
The battle there was even more hopeless than on the ground; millions of Tyranid warships filled the stars, and countless void beasts roared and shrieked, tearing apart the Blood Angels' space forces.
Not long ago, Alexander hurried out of the Saint's Treasure Vault and handed Dante a copy of "an Ogryn's guide to Tyranid biology for one-eyed red-skinned Ogryns."
According to Alexander, this was a supplementary version to the previous "an Ogryn's guide to Tyranid biology," not only adding several Tyranid that did not appear in the Netherworld Star System campaign but also containing almost complete knowledge of the Tyranid hive Fleet.
The contents validated a conjecture by Dante and the Blood Angels: the hive mother ships within the Tyranid hive Fleet actually functioned similarly to ground node organisms.
For organisms as massive and numerous as the Tyranid hive Fleet, to form a true army, there must be a special individual acting as a neural center.
The hive mother ship was not only the Tyranid's bio-factory but also the hive mind's host in the real universe, the core of the entire Tyranid hive Fleet.
Destroying a hive mother ship would cause a portion of the Tyranid hive Fleet to lose control, turning them into pure void beasts, and even after a hive mother ship was destroyed, the pressure on the ground would also decrease.
Alexander suggested to Dante to target the hive mother ships as much as possible, but not to attempt to wipe them out completely.
Firstly, the void forces currently possessed by the Blood Angels made this impossible; destroying hive mother ships was still the goal, but they should never risk completeness. According to Alexander's estimate, there were at least five digits of hive mother ships acting as nodes in the void alone.
Secondly, Dante calmly lowered his gaze, looking at the booklet in his hand, which depicted a red one-eyed Ogryn.
This book described several individual organisms never before discovered by the Imperium, and even their subspecies were unheard of.
Dante was even terrified by the descriptions in the booklet, instinctively doubting their authenticity.
If he hadn't known that Saint Doraemon might have been an enemy of the Tyranid for countless ages and had extensive experience fighting the Tyranid, Dante truly wouldn't have believed it.
The Tyranid actually concealed such powerful units, and in past battles, the Imperium had never pushed the Tyranid to the point of needing to create them?
Another star exploded in the void, brighter than any before.
Dante seemed to feel the tremor caused by that warship's explosion, even though they were so far apart.
"Avenging Blade," Dante murmured softly.
As if to confirm his guess, he saw a flickering meteor streak through Baal's atmosphere, carving a scorching river of fire across the dim yellow sky, cleaving half of the heavens.
Then, the earth trembled, black smoke rose in the distance, and the light dot symbolizing the Avenging Blade on the screen beside Dante extinguished.
That warship, the one that had served as the Blood Angels' flagship ever since the Red Tears vanished into the river of history, had fallen.
Dante let out a mournful cry in his heart; this meant the Tyranid had broken through the defenses in the void. Dante believed that the warriors who sacrificed themselves in the void had fulfilled their duty.
Every warrior who went into the void was filled with the courage to die, and the machine spirit of the warships also seemed to be influenced by Saint Doraemon, becoming impassioned.
Ultimately, they held back the Tyranid in the void for six full days. During these six days, they greatly weakened the Tyranid, but the pressure on the ground still could not be underestimated.
After the meteor brought by the fall of the Avenging Blade came a sky full of fire rain, like sulfur fire sent down by gods to punish Baal.
But Baal, without the need for scorching fire, was already a crimson wasteland; only Angel Keep was the last bastion in this world.
This fire was not punishment, but destruction.
Every drop of fire rain was a spore sac, laden with Tyranid beasts.
Roars echoed from Angel Keep; countless defensive lasers and anti-aircraft cannons whistled, striking the falling enemies from within the Void Shield.
The sky of Baal was so vast, and the cannons of Angel Keep, restored by Dante to their ten-thousand-year-old state, were extremely powerful. Most of the countless spore sacs were destroyed by anti-aircraft fire, but the Tyranid were endless, and even the stragglers were enough to form a flood.
Spore sacs fell on the crimson desert outside Angel Keep, and piercing, sharp insect cries rang out. Countless Tyranid were emerging from the spore sacs, gathering into a tide and surging towards Angel Keep.
Burning the entire Netherworld Star System, starving the Tyranid with Exterminatus, destroying hive mother ships with fleet power, and blocking spore sacs with anti-aircraft fire.
Every step weakened the Tyranid, but the power mobilized by the Leviathan hive Fleet this time was so immense that even after repeated weakening, the Tyranid remained terrifying.
"This is the final battle."
Dante murmured to himself, looking up slightly, his eyes hidden beneath the Sanguinius mask becoming a little more resolute:
"To the walls, either death or victory."
As he said this, Dante couldn't help but glance at the courtyard below the high tower.
Alexander and Mephiston stood in the courtyard, also gazing at the spore sacs continuously falling from the sky.
Alexander noticed Dante's gaze, turned to him, and nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
Then, Alexander produced the pinkish-red wooden door from somewhere. He gently pushed it open.
Behind the door was a world composed of crimson crystals; Alexander and Mephiston stepped into it.
The Water of Thirst rippled in the moat, a terrifying, water-like weapon with a faint, almost imperceptible silver sheen, undulating in the moat.
Youji, the water vendor, watched this scene with a slight tremble. As a water vendor, a mortal who grew up on Baal II, Youji had known to fear this liquid since childhood and couldn't imagine that the Angels had collected such a vast amount of Water of Thirst and placed it beside the sacred Angel Keep.
This liquid was intelligent; it would escape through the sand, then self-replicate into hundreds or thousands of copies, hiding in concealed places, waiting to hunt. It might take thousands of years to completely clear these dangerous liquids.
Youji believed the Angels were wise, and that there must be a reason for such dangerous actions. But what kind of enemy would make the Angels do something so perilous?
He recalled his mother-in-law's dying words; the old woman's eyes were wide, and she was still fiddling with her tarot cards before she died.
"River of tears, Doraemon, severed death, gray storm."
Youji murmured those words. After making that prophecy, the old woman died. Youji buried her and his wife's remains in the same desert. He wondered if he himself would have that chance.
He might die here, and so would his foolish son.
Youji looked with a hint of sorrow at his simple-minded son beside him. He was clutching a lasgun, his expression so blank he seemed unaware of where he was.
"You—" Youji was about to speak when he was interrupted.
The ground suddenly began to tremble, and a wave of yellow, gray, and purple appeared on the horizon beyond the moat, appearing at the distant boundary.
A terrifying sound erupted, a sinister, sharp shriek. This sound seemed carefully designed, perfectly awakening the innate fear in people's hearts.
Then Youji heard the clicking of chitinous carapaces colliding, the sharp, wailing sound of weapons firing, and the roaring of plasma tearing through the void.
Before the battle, Youji had received simple training from the Saint Doraemon Church, learning how to use weapons and understanding the approaching enemy.
But when he actually saw them, Youji's legs still turned to jelly. He even felt his brain couldn't process the sight before his eyes.
Endless, screaming, roaring Tyranid were rushing towards the moat.
"Ahhh!!!" His foolish son wailed, turning and running backward.
"No!!!" Youji quickly turned, wanting to stop his son. The people from the Saint Doraemon Church had already told them the consequences of deserting.
"By Saint Doraemon's round hand!!! Get back here!!!"
The muzzle of a lasgun was pressed against Youji's son's forehead. Youji's son jumped in fright, trembling and shrinking beside Youji.
"Your son?" Youji recognized the face of the person holding the gun; it was an ugly, old face, crisscrossed with wrinkles, but Youji dared not be disrespectful.
That was Lager, one of the leaders of the Saint Doraemon Sect. Youji knew his name.
"Brain damaged?" Lager said after glancing at Youji's son.
Youji could only nod, his body trembling uncontrollably.
"Buddy, you're scared, aren't you?"
Lager raised his voice slightly. Youji immediately understood that he wasn't just speaking to him, but to everyone who was scared:
"Believe me, brother, I'm scared too. For the past few decades, I've just been a thug in a hive city, only caring about how to survive every day."
Youji believed this because he noticed Lager's hand, holding the gun, was also trembling slightly.
"I only know how to survive!" Lager took a deep breath of the dry air and said, "So I'm telling you, running won't save your life. You'll only die by your own people's guns."
"Grip your guns tight! The enemy is on the other side of the moat. As long as you repel them, you can live!"
"The Angels told me this is just a probing attack. Don't let them touch the moat."
"..So, now, buddy! Whether you're from Ashford, Lexio, or Baal, hurry up and shoot!"
"May Saint Doraemon protect your gunfire!"
Youji's finger trembled slightly. Looking at the rapidly approaching Tyranid in the distance, he couldn't help but roar, pulling the trigger.
Lager, beside him, also raised his lasgun. He roared loudly, seemingly wanting to dispel his own fear and that of those around him:
"First, I ask Boss Reyna to bless me; second, I ask Alexander to protect my gun; third, I ask Leman Russ to possess me; and again, I ask Doraemon to extend his round hand! Fire!!!"
Baal's Heart, Mephiston recited the name of this place in his mind.
The Eldar believed in the existence of the World-Soul, believing that every planet had its own will, its soul, its spirit.
If what they said was true, then Baal's soul might reside before Mephiston's eyes.
Baal's Heart was a crystal layer hidden deep within the Baal Mountains, accessible only through a series of complex tunnels. These tunnels were older than the history of the Blood Angels, and were wide and low, clearly not meant for human passage.
Presumably, the xenos who once occupied Baal discovered and modified this place.
What lay before Mephiston's eyes was a world entirely composed of bloodstone. From the floor to the walls, from the walls to the ceiling, everything here was made of bloodstone as pure as blood, emitting a blood-red light that illuminated the entire crystal layer.
Countless hexagonal columnar bloodstones extended outwards, pointing towards the center of this crystal layer, into a natural high platform.
Bloodstone was a specialty of Baal, a precious gem. A pure bloodstone was a symbol of honor for every warrior with Sanguinius' blood flowing through them, representing their achievements on the battlefield. For mortals, even the murkiest bloodstone was a rare fortune.
However, only the Librarians of the Blood Angels knew that bloodstone was not merely jewelry; beyond wealth and honor, bloodstone also possessed unique Warp characteristics.
Every bloodstone could produce a slight spiritual resonance, aligning to some extent with the powers in the Warp, and even, to a certain degree, strengthening the wearer's limbs and sharpening their mind.
It was just that elsewhere, the quantity of bloodstone was too small to cause any significant effect.
But here, in Baal's Heart, in this grotto enveloped by bloodstone, every bloodstone was at work, resonating with Mephiston's spirit, blurring the line between reality and the Warp.
Sometimes, Mephiston even felt that this bloodstone-enveloped grotto had, to some extent, already sunk into the Warp, and the powers of the Warp were becoming active beneath the thin veil of reality.
Mephiston couldn't help but glance at Alexander beside him, feeling a chill down his spine.
"What's wrong?" Alexander noticed Mephiston's gaze and turned his head with a smile to ask.
From Mephiston's perspective,
He saw Alexander enveloped in a grey aura of death, like a worn-out grey robe clinging to him, his face withered like a mummy.
And in the blink of an eye, the grey robes intertwined, transforming into endlessly spinning metal gears, his face covered by complex machinery.
And the moment Alexander smiled at Mephiston, those gears intertwined again, forming a swirling, ouroboros-like dragon. Alexander's mouth seemed to split open, forming a bloody maw to devour him.
Finally, these strange visions slowly settled, combining on Alexander's body, making him appear to transform into a racoon dog shimmering with metallic blue light.
This strange illusion always lingered on Alexander's body, but he himself seemed to ignore it as if he couldn't see it.
Mephiston even suspected that perhaps Baal's Heart was too close to the Warp, and Alexander's physical body in the material universe was about to be unable to bear the power projected from his Warp form.
"No, it's nothing." Mephiston was silent for a moment, then shook his head and said.
Alexander shrugged, not asking further, merely observing the surrounding bloodstones and muttering softly, "How much are these things worth?"
Mephiston's eye twitched. He truly couldn't understand why a Warp entity would care about money. Could it be that his venerable self was also involved in wealth-related domains within the Warp?
Unable to fathom the reason, Mephiston could only take a deep breath, reaching out to signal Alexander to walk with him onto the high platform pointed to by the numerous hexagonal columnar bloodstones.
"This way." Mephiston led Alexander onto the high platform.
On the high platform, the Blood Angels' Librarians stood before a Warp Engine that resembled a mechanical tower.
This Warp Engine was emblazoned with a symbol: an arrow shooting through three concentric rings, surrounded by two ears of wheat composed of twenty-one grains.
The Blood Angels' Librarians were pouring fresh blood onto it and using a brush to outline layers of strange runes and patterns. These twisted and bizarre patterns seemed to possess some kind of blasphemous power.
盖尤斯·拉塞勒斯, the second-in-command of the Blood Angels' Librarians, nodded slightly in greeting to Alexander and Mephiston.
When his gaze fell upon Alexander, his eye couldn't help but twitch, clearly also seeing the illusions rising from Alexander's body.
"My friend, how is it going?" Mephiston stood before the Warp Engine and asked Lascelles.
"This engine was originally corrupted by the plague God's power, but strange.
He paused before continuing:
"Strangely, the plague God's daemons made no attempt to enter reality through this Warp Engine."
"Even when we began to try to wash away the corruption with blood and runes and guide it towards the Blood God's domain, those plague God's daemons seemed quite cooperative. I even faintly heard the grateful voices of the nurglings."
As he spoke, Lascelles' gaze couldn't help but fall upon Alexander.
He clearly suspected Alexander had done something.
Alexander's mouth also moved slightly. This Warp Engine was the one he had found in the Bottom Nest. After being corrupted by Nurgle, Alexander had stuffed it into his four-dimensional pocket.
Quite a few daemons had actually poured out of this Warp Engine, but they all ended up in the four-dimensional pocket and were sold by him.
Unfortunately, Nurgle daemons were not fools. After realizing that the gate opened by this Warp Engine was a trap, they never showed their faces again. Even the Great Unclean One, Rainfather, personally closed that Warp gate.
However, this thing originated from one of CNSA's colonies, and out of a collector's habit, Alexander had kept it in his four-dimensional pocket.
But now, it was proving useful.
"Once we open the gate to the Blood God's domain, the runes on it will begin to operate, transferring that gate onto this Warp Engine," Lascelles explained.
Alexander nodded slightly upon hearing this. This was their plan.
Mephiston and the Blood Angels' Librarians would open a gate to Khorne's domain through a series of rituals that could only be described as blasphemous sorcery.
Then, the runes drawn in blood on the Warp Engine would begin to work, connecting and transferring the Warp gate onto it.
And if Ka'Bandha attempted to enter reality at this time, he would emerge from the Warp Engine... and this Warp Engine would be placed in...
Alexander's mouth curved into a smile. He lifted the Warp Engine with both hands.
This tower-like colossal machine instantly flowed like liquid into Alexander's four-dimensional pocket.
If Ka'Bandha emerged from the Warp Engine, he would directly fall into Alexander's four-dimensional pocket and be sold off immediately.
Lascelles seemed slightly surprised by this scene, as he did not detect any fluctuations in psychic power.
But Mephiston cast a look at him, signaling that now was not the time for curiosity.
Lascelles nodded gently, making way for Mephiston.
Mephiston silently walked among the Librarians. His gaze swept over the surrounding bloodstones.
The bloodstones were intricately carved, stained with blood, and inlaid with countless complex patterns. These patterns had the style of the Caucasus Mountains of ancient Terra, originating from ancient texts of the Old Night era, filled with blasphemy and defilement.
This was a sacred place of Baal, but for some time, the Librarians had been desecrating it with these defiled runes.
And Mephiston would use a whole set of blasphemous and dark sorcery to perform the ritual. This sorcery came from the ancient Ursh Alliance of Terra, a truly blasphemous dark knowledge.
Regardless of the reason, everything Mephiston was doing exceeded what the Imperium could permit.
"We have no choice."
Mephiston whispered to his colleagues, his voice gradually filling with power.
In the Battle of the Underworld, the Great Devourer had left a soul-level scar on Mephiston, which had not truly healed to this day.
But Baal's Heart compensated for the loss of power caused by the scar, making Mephiston almost as strong as he was at his peak.
"Ka'Bandha is lurking, eyeing us. He is our ancient enemy, a great threat, attempting to corrupt our souls."
"To defeat him, we must perform this blasphemous sorcery. May the Emperor and Sanguinius protect our souls."
Alexander glanced at Sanguinius at the corner of his eye. Its figure was very bright, enveloped in blue and white interwoven light.
This was probably to protect Mephiston and their souls.
The ritual they were about to perform was extremely blasphemous, and they would have no help from priests or Blood Priests. They had to resist curses and corruption with their own power.
"Share the blood," Mephiston whispered.
The Librarians, except for him, unfastened their gauntlets, removed their armored gloves, formed a circle, and one after another bit into each other's flesh, drawing each other's blood. The blood flowed along the circular array they formed.
This strange ritual, combined with their shared crimson thirst within them, formed a unique link, causing their psychic powers to converge and be shared.
The only exception was Mephiston. He did not draw his brothers' blood, but he was still absorbing the power of the other Librarians.
A shadow seemed to cover him, writhing on Mephiston's body like a living thing, making Mephiston's body appear to swell, and even, faintly, black wings grew behind Mephiston.
"Hoo—"
Mephiston gently exhaled a breath of blood-qi. The surrounding environment seemed to subtly twist. In the eyes of the Librarians, the scenes of the Vengeful Spirit and Baal's Heart alternated. A part of their souls seemed to have awakened.
Alexander's nose twitched slightly. He wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but he seemed to smell blood in the air.
And the smell of gunpowder, steel, engine oil, wild beasts, manes, leather, and trenches.
Mephiston chanted an ancient incantation that flowed from the dark mountains of the Caucasus. The blasphemous sounds echoed in the air, like sticky, slick tentacles, licking every corner of reality. The writhing shadow slowly expanded from Mephiston's body, causing Mephiston's form to constantly change and twist.
The bloodstones burst forth with light like fresh blood, illuminating the surroundings in a way beyond human comprehension, like blood-soaked wounds stretched across reality.
Mephiston suddenly raised his voice, and at the same time, a series of murderous war cries suddenly echoed in the void. The boundary between reality and the Warp became thin.
Alexander saw broken armor lying in a viscous river of blood, crimson blood winding across the shattered earth, collecting in craters to form pools.
Horns sounded from afar. Warriors in brass armor roared, raged, and charged at each other through the blood.
They were engaged in an eternal war, countless grand battles erupting between innumerable warriors. They shed blood, had their heads cut off, bestowing war and violence upon this domain.
Endless shattered scorched earth spread out. The clang of weapons echoed everywhere. Blood gathered into rivers, skulls piled into mountains. Beasts forged of fire and blood lurked on blade-like mountains, and warriors filled with courage and murderous intent roared, challenging them.
And it, Khorne's Bloodthirster, the Bane of Angels... that one with an ape-like face, with four twisted horns, spreading crimson blood-red wings, showering blood rain from its body,
It wielded a steel whip and a chainaxe, galloping through the red night and the wind of blood. It wore neither crown nor robe; only blood adorned its honor.
Its followers beat war drums, let out guttural roars, and blew horn after horn.
"This is Blood! This is Blood! This is Slaughter! This is Slaughter!"
"He is Blood! He is Blood! He is Slaughter! He is Slaughter!"
"This is the Blood-Bathed Lord!"
"He rides out in fury! He makes it roar!"
"Kill, kill, kill! Kill, kill, kill again! Ka'Bandha!"
"Kill, kill, kill! Kill, kill, kill again! Ka'Bandha!"
It twisted its bestial crimson eyes, and amidst the war cries and horn blasts, took a step towards the boundary between the Warp and reality. In an instant, the entire Baal's Heart roared and raged.
Ka'Bandha, the Bane of Angels, descended upon Baal.
"The Archangel's shrimp-headed, ass-kissing, obsessed fan Ka'Bandha is here," Alexander involuntarily said during the solemn atmosphere.
A beastly roar erupted from Ka'Bandha's ape-like mouth.
His daemons beat war drums, blew war horns, and let out furious battle cries.
Ka'Bandha sensed that the barrier between reality and the Warp had thinned, and a rift appeared before him, like a wound torn from the flesh of reality, bleeding crimson blood, with the aura of the material universe seeping through the wound.
The Angel of Disaster let out a victorious roar, his steel whip cracking, and his brass armor bellowing a war cry.
He could smell blood: Baal's blood, angel's blood, Primarch's blood.
Fervent joy flickered in Ka'Bandha's murky eyes, but soon this joy was replaced by confusion.
He sensed a summons; someone had deliberately summoned him before he could even invade Baal.
Before the rift, two figures stood blocking it.
Blood mist spewed from Ka'Bandha's nostrils as he glared at the two people standing before the rift.
"So it was the little angels who called me!!!"
Ka'Bandha roared with laughter. He first noticed Mephiston:
"Are you already so eager to join us? Where is your rage? Let me feel it!"
Ka'Bandha instantly understood what Mephiston intended to do. Rather than waiting for Ka'Bandha to be drawn into the war and appear directly on the battlefield, crashing into Angel Keep from the Warp and inciting the Blood Angels' Bloodthirst, it was better to summon Ka'Bandha to Baal's Heart beforehand and then banish him.
At the same time, Ka'Bandha's gaze shifted from Mephiston to Alexander beside him.
He was an ordinary-looking mortal, with a small propeller on his head and a remote control in his left hand.
But Ka'Bandha vaguely saw something.
Ka'Bandha suddenly took a step back, a confused expression on his face.
"The cursed one? Vashtorr? Shadow?"
Ka'Bandha's murky eyes were filled with confusion. He vaguely perceived what lay beneath Alexander's material shell, something that even he, a Khorne Greater Daemon, couldn't help but be astonished by:
"No, it doesn't seem to be any of them."
"Has the ritual on the Warp Engine begun to operate?" Mephiston asked Alexander telepathically.
Alexander glanced at the Warp Engine in his four-dimensional pocket. The runes outlined in blood on the engine were sprouting blood-red tumors, growing into skulls that shrieked and roared, with fresh blood flowing from their eye sockets.
The Warp Gate had not yet been fully transferred to this Warp Engine. If Ka'Bandha were to rush into reality now, he would only enter Baal, not fall into the four-dimensional pocket.
"Not quite yet, we need to stall him for a bit." Alexander silently responded in his mind: "We also need to enrage him, so he rushes over without thinking."
"The second task is too simple, he is a Bloodthirster." A slight smile played on Mephiston's lips.
Alexander couldn't help but smile too, his fingers tapping the hot clapperboard & robot director in his pocket.
"Who understands, my family? I heard there was a fierce and Waaaaagh! battle, and I thought Skarbrand, Seed of Destruction, or Angrath would come, or even Angron if absolutely necessary. I never expected it to be this shrimp-headed pervert, Ka'Bandha! I might as well go find a grot!"
Alexander blurted it out without hesitation, leaving Mephiston, who hadn't even had a chance to speak, utterly stunned.
Mephiston's gaze immediately turned terrifying. This aggression was a bit too much...
"Think back ten thousand years ago, when the Archangel broke Ka'Bandha's spine with one knee, and he cried like a grot whose toes had been stepped on, boo-hoo-hoo, so pathetic, almost as pathetic as a certain red-skinned, one-eyed Ogryn."
"I heard that if Ka'Bandha hadn't taken advantage of the Blood God's inattention and bowed twice to Sanguinius to beg for mercy, he would surely have been captured and taken back to Angel Keep to be used as a blood-slave."
A string of words spilled from Alexander's smiling lips, leaving Ka'Bandha momentarily stunned, unable to respond.
"Do you know why Ka'Bandha doesn't hide the history of being solo-killed by angels multiple times? Actually, what you don't know is that these are all glorified. Ka'Bandha's profession in 30k was actually selling his ass. My ancestor was a genuine Lord of Change, and he walked through Ka'Bandha's tunnels. Hey! Don't even get me started, that was truly a dry path in blood!"
"Enough!!!" Ka'Bandha roared, his rage seemingly solidifying, transforming into fiery bursts filled with the smell of sulfur and gunpowder, radiating outwards from himself, spreading in all directions.
This attack was indiscriminate; many of Ka'Bandha's followers were ignited, engulfed in sulfurous flames, until only a skull covered in sparks remained.
The sulfurous fire spread towards Mephiston and Alexander. Mephiston gripped vita lars, the soul sword in his hand, and powerful psychic energy transformed into layers of shadows that enveloped him, resisting the intense flames.
As for Alexander... Alexander stood leisurely in place, allowing the flames to engulf him, the Adaptive Lamp in his hand flashing and disappearing.
He looked at Ka'Bandha with interest: "Little Ka, my Sanguinius is a high-achieving soul cultivator who graduated from Vengeful Spirit, and the heir to the Imperial Chairman's family. You, a dropout from a brass vocational school, an unappreciated youngest son of a paralyzed father, truly don't deserve him."
"It's not that I, Uncle, am telling you, but it's important for people to know their place. Your fire isn't strong enough. In the future, when Sanguinius inherits Uncle's chicken meatball business, you won't even be good at stoking the fire."
"Look at Horus next door. Although he's a bit extreme, and there might be some ethical issues with my Sanguinius, at least he's good with a hammer!"
Alexander's words were deep and tinged with a hint of sorrow, as if he were an elder worried about his child.
Mephiston trembled, his vita lars nearly falling to the ground. How did he feel that these words didn't just insult Ka'Bandha?
Ka'Bandha said no more, letting out a savage roar, swinging his chainaxe at Alexander, the howling Warp energy exploding.
Alexander dared not be careless. The Adaptive Lamp could protect against environmental damage, but not direct attacks like blades.
A faint golden light flashed in his hand, and the toy-like Denkōmaru unsheathed.
Alexander wielded the toy short sword in a manner Ka'Bandha found difficult to comprehend. A faint golden light arced through the air, deftly deflecting Ka'Bandha's chainaxe, allowing it to graze past him.
In an instant, the axe blade whistled, kicking up waves of yellow sand around Alexander. He lightly dodged the sand, his gaze meeting Ka'Bandha's.
A spark of battle intent briefly ignited in Alexander's eyes, but quickly extinguished.
In Ka'Bandha's eyes, this man seemed to crave an evenly matched battle, expecting a fated death in a bloody fight. From his eyes, Ka'Bandha saw Alexander climbing out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, defeating one opponent after another, ultimately sitting alone atop a Jingguan, bored and regretfully wiping the toy short sword in his hand.
He had never encountered a worthy enemy, nor had he fought a memorable battle.
Ka'Bandha saw the emptiness in Alexander's eyes, an emptiness that could not be faked or acted.
In that moment, Ka'Bandha felt a sense of camaraderie with his enemy, even respect.
A pure and noble, powerful yet unmatched warrior—this was exactly right!!!
"You still need practice." Alexander shook his head with a look of regret, the disappointment in his voice making Ka'Bandha perk up.
Ka'Bandha let out a roar of admiration.
Although he had just been humiliated by this damned fellow, and despite feeling the pressure from the Great Devourer as he drew closer to reality, Alexander's astonishing martial prowess still made Ka'Bandha involuntarily exclaim in admiration.
As a Khorne Bloodthirster, Ka'Bandha understood the value of that move better than anyone.
And that longing for battle further captivated Ka'Bandha. What a noble warrior!
He even felt a bit like he did when he fought Sanguinius on equal terms!
To fight a noble warrior, let fire and iron contend!
"Tell me your name!" Ka'Bandha let out a cruel laugh, his steel whip arcing to strike Alexander's face.
"Never!!!" Mephiston whispered, his silver steel longsword burning hot, blocking the steel whip in front of Alexander.
The entire Baal's Heart trembled with the impact of that strike, but Mephiston withstood the shock. He turned and swung his sword, forcing Ka'Bandha back several steps.
"Calistarius!!!" Ka'Bandha roared Mephiston's former name: "It's not your turn yet, you will be consumed by rage on the eighth day of my manifestation, but it's not your turn now!"
Ka'Bandha turned his head and pointed his great axe at Alexander: "Your name! My axe craves to chop off your head, give me a name to remember you by!"
Upon hearing this, Alexander's mouth twitched. Why did this statement reek of a pervert?
"Neoth." Alexander said seriously, "I am Neoth!"
"Speak my name, and I will fight you, Ka'Bandha!"
Alexander's voice was deep and hoarse, full of the vicissitudes forged by wind and time, as if he were a warrior who had endured countless years of tempering, his martial arts having reached perfection, longing to find a suitable opponent for a duel of life and death... His finger subtly brushed the hot clapperboard & robot director in his pocket.
The acting ability brought by this prop allowed him to successfully deceive Ka'Bandha, who seemed particularly susceptible to this approach from a Khorne Greater Daemon.
Ka'Bandha let out a hearty roar, an excited expression on his ape-like face.
He had initially thought this battle would only involve clashing with a few good fighters among the Blood Angels, and hacking at the Tyranid, but he never expected to encounter such a skilled warrior.
Although this warrior's mouth was as unpleasant as those bird-men of the Lord of Change, his exquisite martial arts allowed Ka'Bandha to overlook these minor flaws.
A fair and fierce battle, free of schemes and tricks, only blood and flesh clashing, was right before him. How could he let a little bit of foul language distract him?
A battle that began with an exchange of names, in honor.
And would end with Ka'Bandha taking the head of this man before him.
Perhaps in the thousands or even tens of thousands of years to come, Ka'Bandha would cherish this battle, occasionally taking out his head to gaze upon it, recalling every move, every drop of blood, every blade in the battle to come...
"I am the servant of the Blood God, I am the Angel of Disaster, I am the enemy of Sanguinius and the Lord of Rage!"
"I am Ka'Bandha, Bloodthirster Ka'Bandha!"
"I will challenge you to a blood war, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"