The dozens of fighter-servitors spread out their massive bodies.
Just as Belisarius Cawl had said, these servitors were all killing machines meticulously designed by him. Each one was so enormous, like the product of five or six mortal corpses stitched together. Numerous weapons, which Alexander couldn't identify, were exposed from their outstretched metallic arms.
The roar of plasma erupted, and scorching energy beams whistled towards the hundred Primaris Space Marines.
"For the Emperor!!!" a purple-painted Primaris was the first to let out a battle cry.
His voice, amplified through the helmet's vox-caster, spread throughout the entire arena, thundering like a clap of thunder. Many mortals even showed fear.
With the purple-painted Primaris Space Marine leading the charge, the other Primaris also let out their battle cries, attacking the servitors who were unleashing firepower upon them.
They were fast, at least faster than regular Space Marines. In just a brief moment, they had crossed most of the gladiatorial arena.
But it wasn't fast enough. The servitors, equipped with weapons specially designed by Cawl, quickly completed their cooling. Amidst the surging heat, they launched a second round of firing at these Space Marines.
Cawl, to demonstrate the performance of the Primaris, only allowed them to use combat knives. This was cruel.
Alexander clearly saw a Primaris hit by an energy beam, half of his head sheared off, falling heavily to the ground.
There was also the purple-painted Space Marine who first let out the battle cry. His Power Armor was torn open by an energy beam, and a terrifying wound was scorched into his lower abdomen. Yet, he gritted his teeth, seemingly relying on a surge of pride, and continued to charge at the servitors.
To Belisarius Cawl, this seemed to be a necessary process for demonstrating the Primaris.
Guilliman merely observed these new Space Marines with an indifferent gaze, his emotions unreadable.
Alexander, however, felt this was a waste. Astartes, especially Primaris, were not cheap to produce.
He subtly extended a finger, and a string of flowers flew from Nobita's fingertip, scooping out the Primaris whose body lay across the gladiatorial arena.
Then, with a gentle flick of his finger, he pointed at the Primaris' broken head, and he immediately came back to life, his eyes widening abruptly and his head restored to its original state.
This was the power of the domain of Erosion and Destruction, reversing life and death. As long as the soul had not been drawn into the Warp and still lingered in the material universe, Alexander could resurrect them out of thin air like this.
Most importantly, this kind of resurrection cost no money; it only consumed Alexander's physical strength, mental energy, and the power he occupied in the Warp.
The Primaris' eyes were filled with bewilderment, but before he could speak, Alexander, controlling Nobita, casually tossed him aside.
Everything he had just done made everyone look on in surprise. Many mortals immediately began to pray in hushed tones, while the Imperial officials—especially the High Lords—looked a bit displeased.
Although they had long heard that Alexander possessed the ability to reverse life and death, this was the first time they had witnessed it. They suddenly realized that if Alexander wished, death would no longer be their retirement.
At the same time, the arena entered the close-quarters combat phase. The purple-painted Astartes quickly lopped off the head of a ranged servitor, then, in an almost phoenix-like manner, pounced on another servitor, taking two servitors' lives in the blink of an eye, demonstrating highly efficient killing skills.
He made Guilliman nod slightly, seemingly satisfied.
But another Primaris was cut down, his flesh and blood a mangled mess. The servitor's whistling plasma blade appeared exceptionally lethal.
Fortunately, Belisarius Cawl understood Alexander's intention. The servitors no longer used lethal attacks, but would pull their punches at critical moments, allowing these Primaris to be injured and realize they were eliminated, but not to the point of killing them.
One servitor after another was knocked down, but the Primaris were also eliminated one by one.
They were still taller, faster, and stronger than regular Space Marines, but their combat felt somewhat… mechanical, monotonous, and rigid. Though efficient, it was not perfect.
Guilliman frowned slightly, seemingly dissatisfied with the performance of these new Space Marines.
"What do you think of these Primaris Space Marines?" Alexander asked Khârn and Seth.
Alexander considered himself not a combat unit and didn't know much about fighting, but Khârn and Seth were masters of the art of killing, and their opinions were more valuable.
"..Why are they wearing the Blood Angels' colors?" Seth demanded, his voice urgent.
"Obviously, they are Blood Angels," Khârn replied, glancing at Seth.
"I only see a bunch of Ultramarines painted red!" Seth's expression instantly twisted, his fangs slightly exposed.
Looking at the Primaris Space Marines on the battlefield, who were stiff, rigid, and fought without a hint of killing intent, as if solving a problem, he was full of disdain.
Ultramarines painted red—a very sharp, very Seth-style assessment.
Guilliman must have heard it. He sighed and rubbed his head, seemingly both agreeing with Seth's words and feeling helpless about them.
Rigid, mechanical, rigid, it did seem a bit like that. Alexander looked at the situation on the battlefield and felt that Seth's sharp critique had some merit.
He couldn't help but look at Khârn again, asking for Khârn's opinion.
Khârn gazed at the Primaris on the battlefield, his eyes seeming a bit unfocused.
"They even used the gene-seed of the traitor legions?" Khârn blurted out.
Hearing this, Guilliman's expression became strange, and he turned to look at Belisarius Cawl.
Khârn almost instinctively sensed this; it seemed some gene-seed of the traitor legions were mixed in with these Primaris.
Though not obvious, Khârn saw the style of the old War Hounds in some of the Primaris.
And that purple-painted Primaris with the best combat record and the most excellent killing skills... wasn't he an Emperor's Children? Did he really not need to put on an act?
Cawl had always held a belief that the Emperor must have had a reason for creating twenty Astartes legions. Twenty legions, twenty gene-sequences, should complement each other and be indispensable.
Therefore, it was entirely possible that he secretly created some Astartes from the traitor legions—and perhaps more than just a few.
Fortunately, Khârn kept his voice low, and only Alexander, who was close by, and the two Primarchs with superhuman hearing heard it.
"I wasn't asking you about that," Alexander said with a hint of helplessness. "I'm asking you how these Primaris Astartes are performing."
Khârn paused for a moment, then replied, "They have bodies suitable for killing, but no skills suitable for killing."
"Give me eight minutes, and I can kill all of them."
Alexander nodded slightly. He knew Khârn wasn't boasting.
Even the most elite Gasterling Terminators under Abaddon were no different from cutting vegetables for Khârn. After killing Saint Celestine, he once single-handedly fought hundreds of Black Legion, including a squad of Gasterling Terminators, and Abaddon.
Although the Primaris were enhanced Astartes, the gap between them and Khârn was still too great.
But at this moment, Khârn suddenly placed his hand on his chainaxe, bloodson.
He let out a slight breath of bloody air, and the Butcher's Nails on his head hummed softly.
"Shadow Step? Or Night Lords' stealth? Both are a bit similar."
Khârn growled, his eyes darting around like a jackal searching for prey:
"My lord, I take back my earlier underestimation of the Primaris. There is one who can be called dangerous."
"A Primaris is secretly watching us. He's a bit displeased with what I just said. That surge of emotion exposed him."
"I didn't detect him!" Seth suddenly turned to look at Khârn, his fangs slightly bared.
He wasn't doubting Khârn's judgment. He had sparred a few times with this mysterious individual and knew his strength.
Seth even suspected this fellow was also a member of the Blood Angels; his fighting style was somewhat like the Flesh Tearers—ferocious and bloodthirsty.
He was simply angry that he hadn't done his duty as a guard.
"He hides very well, heh heh. My lord, do you want me to go and bring him back?" Khârn tightened his grip on his axe, a hint of madness in his words.
Khârn seemed to find the Primaris secretly observing them very interesting, a character worth fighting.
"There's no need for that. I know what that is..." Alexander glanced at Khârn and shook his head.
He probably guessed what Khârn was referring to, the Primaris hidden in the shadows.
Belisarius Cawl's creation, the Primaris Head.
That was a unique design created by Cawl, the template for all Primaris. It incorporated the gene-sequences of all twenty legions, modified at the genetic level in a manner similar to the Custodes, and endowed him with extraordinary Psyker powers and an almost immortal body.
That was Cawl's most dedicated work, a technological miracle he himself could not replicate. He even injected his own gene-sequence into the Primaris Head. The Primaris Head was almost equivalent to Cawl's son, and nearly the Primarch of the Primaris.
Of course, the Primaris Head was still very far from a true Primarch, and Cawl's gene-modification technology still had flaws. The Primaris Head constantly suffered from the pain it brought upon itself, an imperfect work.
Khârn must have just detected his presence.
The Primaris Head possessed the complete gene-sequences of twenty legions. Theoretically, he could simultaneously use the stealth abilities of both the Raven Guard and the Night Lords.
It was normal for Seth not to discover him. If not for the fluctuation in his emotions, showing a slight hostility towards Khârn, Khârn wouldn't have discovered him either.
However, he hadn't hidden from Alexander, after all, he was wearing Power Armor. the machine spirit of his Power Armor was loudly proclaiming its presence to Alexander.
And it probably hadn't escaped Guilliman and Sanguinius either.
Alexander noticed that Sanguinius seemed to be deep in thought.