Angron's twin axes crossed, hacking at Khârn, the chainblades tearing through Khârn's flesh.
But Khârn's form shifted in an instant, as if fate had deviated at its most rugged corner.
Raum hadn't been devouring so many Tzeentch Great Unclean Ones and Erebus' power for nothing.
Relying on the power of the Greedy Dissolution Domain, he had learned Erebus' spell of using Tzeentch Great Unclean Ones to bear his own fate.
However, he couldn't achieve a complete death substitute like Erebus; at most, he could only substitute for injuries.
Almost in the blink of an eye, the one wounded by Angron's twin axes became Raum, his body grotesquely disfigured.
Raum looked at Angron, or rather, at the Blood God behind Angron, with a mocking gaze.
He was different from Khârn; he had known from the very beginning that the Blood God was behind Angron's death.
This was also why he had willingly accepted the Dark King's power and lurked in the Blood God's grasp.
Finally, fate granted Raum good fortune.
He had not only completed his revenge against Erebus but also had the chance to retaliate against the Blood God himself.
Raum had consumed a large number of Wrestling Eagle Persons and Tzeentch daemons, acquiring some characteristics of a Tzeentch daemon, allowing him to serve as a fate-bearer like a Tzeentch Great Unclean One.
He bore the fate of Khârn being struck by Angron.
widowmaker and Blood Axe plunged into Raum's twisted, broken flesh, but the mocking smile on his lips remained unchanged.
He did not fear death, not even the complete death that other daemons dreaded.
The ritual dagger was one of the few things, besides the Emperor's Psyker power, that could utterly kill a daemon.
The ritual dagger that had killed Angron back then had also nearly destroyed Raum's existence.
It was solely the Psyker fluctuations and vengeful obsession generated by Angron's death that sustained Raum's existence.
He did not fear death; he had already died on the day Angron perished.
But Khârn, at the last moment of having Raum substitute for his injury, did his best to avoid vital points; though this axe strike caused Raum excruciating pain, it was not immediately fatal.
Khârn's figure emerged from Angron's side; at this moment, he had disengaged from Raum, returning to a form and appearance closer to a normal person.
He swung bloodson, hacking at the wound on Angron's neck left by Kolarng.
But Angron's incredibly fast reaction speed made him instantly turn, and bloodfather in his hand shot straight for Khârn's forehead.
Father and his child were so close.
Khârn smelled the scent of red sand, the scent of Angron, the scent of Nuceria.
This scent seemed to stimulate Khârn's nerves; fragmented memories flowed through his mind.
In these memory fragments, he seemed to have sparred with Angron, seemed to have been taught by Angron.
But this was absolutely impossible; how could Angron educate his bloodsons?
Angron had never once taught the World Eaters how to fight.
Just as the Emperor had never taught Angron.
Therefore, all of Angron's martial arts essentially came from the arenas of Nuceria; they were the martial arts of a gladiator.
The arena was a spectacle of blood; the audience sought extreme sensory stimulation, more blood and more wounds.
And the gladiators took pride in their wounds, seeking victory in danger, often neglecting defense in attack, tending to trade blows.
This thought suddenly surfaced in Khârn's mind.
He had seen this axe strike of Angron's before.
His father had taught him how to counter this axe strike.
Kill for kill, blood for blood.
Kolarng must have discovered this point back then to leave that wound on Angron's neck.
Khârn suddenly smiled; he almost didn't hesitate, lunging towards the incoming bloodfather.
bloodson grazed the edge of bloodfather, a shower of sparks erupting.
Ten thousand years, bloodson and bloodfather had never been so close.
Khârn laughed wildly, letting bloodfather hack into his flesh, cutting open his body.
But Khârn also used this to break through Angron's axe-blade defense, bringing bloodson down on the wound Kolarng had left long ago.
bloodson cut into that wound, severing flesh, and moist blood flowed down.
Ten thousand years ago, the wound left by Kolarng helped Khârn cut into Angron's neck.
The Lord of the Red Sands instinctively opened his gaping maw, letting out pained roars and howls.
"Father."
Khârn, severed at the waist, softly said:
"I won."
The glutinous rice dumpling he had hidden in his palm shot from his fingertips into Angron's mouth.
Then, Khârn's broken body fell from mid-air, cutting through the blood-scented air, and crashed heavily onto the sand.
Sand scattered, yellow dust billowed.
Blood continuously flowed from his body, staining the sand red and warming it.
Khârn lay there, looking up at the sky with its rolling, boundless blood-clouds, feeling the sand envelop his body.
That peculiar warmth was like a father's embrace, a warmth Khârn had never known in his lifetime.
It seemed someone had once wished that Khârn could set foot on a warm red sandy land.
At this moment, that wish was fulfilled.
It turned out that the warm red sandy land was dyed red with blood and warmed with blood.
He suddenly understood, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curve into a slight smile.
He knew that the moment that glutinous rice dumpling entered Angron's mouth, his victory was already assured.
Khârn rarely trusted a person or a thing.
But he believed in the power of Saint Doraemon's tools.
[Tool Name: Momotaro Maruko]
[Origin: 22nd Century Earth — Future Department Store]
[Production Date: 261.M3]
[Function: Shaped like a glutinous rice dumpling, when eaten by a person or animal other than oneself, the recipient will become docile and tamed, obeying any command from the feeder. Effective for thirty minutes.]
Angron, falling from the sky into the sand, tightly clutched his head. The glutinous rice dumpling melted upon entry, transforming into a warm current that surged into Angron's brain and entire nervous system.
The Butcher's Nails buzzed and roared, sensing their dominance being shaken, and desperately inflicted boundless rage and pain upon Angron.
But this rage and pain were utterly unable to resist the warm current brought by the glutinous rice dumpling.
Even a product of the Dark Age of Technology could not nullify the effect of a 22nd century secret tool.
The warm current spread through Angron's brain, and a feeling of docility and peace diffused from his mind; all that rage, pain, and sorrow were replaced by tranquility.
Angron's eyes instantly became clear, and the abilities he had once lost returned as the rage subsided.
The surrounding emotions also surged towards him, and Angron felt Khârn's emotions, instinctively letting out a soft whimper.
"Khârn… my child…"
Just as Angron whispered, the Blood God on the Brass Throne suddenly widened his eyes.
His connection with Angron had been inexplicably severed.
Now Angron no longer belonged to him.
"Liar!!!!!!!!!!"