["Young Wolf, focus your soul, gather your will, sharpen your mind! You can resist the corruption of Chaos!"]
[With a solemn expression, Draigo roared, his voice booming over the plains, filled with urgent command and spiritual force.]
[He charged toward you in his holy-shielded Terminator armor, intending to break the connection between you and the terrifying light that enveloped you.]
[Swinging his heavy Storm Shield and the the Nemesis Force Sword you had just returned, Draigo swiftly eradicated the few remaining flesh hounds crawling on the ground near your feet, ensuring no immediate physical threat remained.]
[Your towering figure was completely enveloped in a pillar of crimson light, the energy from the newly acquired sword immense and terrifyingly focused.]
[Yet, you felt no familiar signs of Chaos corruption: no whispers in your ears, no disturbances in the Warp flames within you. The energy felt raw and physical, not manipulative.]
[You blinked your cyan wolf eyes, the blue glow contrasting sharply with the red light, and bared your fangs in confused contemplation.]
[Gazing at the terrifying daemon sword in your palm, you faintly sensed fragmented, ancient information—memories of power and bloodshed clinging to the metal.]
["The Daemon Sword… Bloodthirster Katos…" You couldn't help but lift your chin and speak slowly, the name foreign yet resonant, your gaze fixed on the solemn-faced Draigo.]
[Draigo, his beard white as snow, slightly widened his eyes in surprise and let out a sigh of heavy recognition.]
["I had thought it was nothing more than an ancient legend from Khorne's domain…" Wrinkles deepened on Draigo's aged face, his profound eyes filled with heavy concern. The implications of the sword were immense.]
[He explained the dreadful lore: The Lord of Slaughter once plunged a terrifying daemon sword into the belly of a flesh hound, using the beast as a living scabbard.]
[If someone was brave enough, strong enough, or merely lucky enough, they could claim it as their ultimate reward after endless slaughter, becoming Khorne's new, temporary champion.]
[But the moment the Lord of Slaughter grew bored of his champion, the sword and its wielder would once again be devoured by a flesh hound, awaiting the next successor. It was a cycle of betrayal and doom.]
[Soon, the towering pillar of crimson light gradually dissipated, absorbed completely by the daemon sword, and even the chaotic storms in the blood-red plains calmed completely, the brief burst of power having settled the region.]
[Expressionless, you tossed aside the daemon sword, the weapon an unwelcome mark of ownership.]
[But every time, the sword would reappear on your 'Iron Shell' power armor with a jarring clank. It was a curse now bound to you.]
[Sometimes the sword was on the power pack, sometimes at your waist where weapons were holstered, and sometimes clutched in the metal claws of your servo-arm, always finding its way back.]
[Your cyan wolf eyes narrowed slightly in frustration.]
[Instinctively, you activated the powerful hydraulics of your 'Iron Shell' and hurled the daemon sword skyward with all your might, a powerful, desperate toss.]
[Yet, mid-air, the sword suddenly changed direction, arcing rapidly back before plunging into the grotesque, shifting skeletal ground before you, vibrating with stubborn insistence.]
[You couldn't help but exchange a glance with Draigo, a shared look of annoyance and resignation.]
[You casually accepted the Titansword he handed you, the pure Nemesis blade cool and comforting in your palm.]
[The Warp flames within you surged, mixing with Draigo's powerful fire, both forces directed and surging against the grotesque blade of the daemon sword in a combined attempt to destroy the binding.]
[In the next instant, before either psychic force could fully take hold, the furious howls of Khorne's legions once again echoed across the blood-red plains, louder and more fanatical than before.]
[An unending horde of Khorne's daemons launched a frenzied charge in your direction, their previous kneeling forgotten, replaced by a lust for blood.]
[The once-peaceful crimson sky was once again engulfed in a chaotic, blood-drenched storm, the power of Khorne responding to the threat to his champion.]
[Looking up, you saw an uncountable number of towering Bloodthirsters gradually taking shape in the clouds, massive, winged silhouettes forming in the turbulent skies.]
[Immediately, you and Draigo ceased your efforts to destroy the daemon sword, realizing the disastrous consequences of antagonizing the Blood God further.]
[At once, the daemonic horde halted their charge, instead dropping to their knees instantly, offering reverent prayers in your direction, the frenzy replaced by sudden, rigid obeisance.]
[Even the horrifying silhouettes of the countless Bloodthirsters in the sky slowly faded and dissolved, as if they had never existed, their manifestation halted by their master's will.]
[Your face darkened beneath your helm as you gazed at the daemon sword embedded in the ground, recognizing the forced, terrible favor it represented.]
[Lowering your head, you pondered for a moment, the silence of the legions unnerving.]
[Without hesitation, you drew the daemon sword—the symbol of your forced servitude—and fastened it to your 'Iron Shell' at your waist, treating it as a new piece of gear.]
[You were seething with barely contained fury at Khorne's forced "blessing," the violation of your free will a bitter pill.]
[You quickly blinked your cyan wolf eyes, forcing back the emotion.]
[Taking a deep breath, you inhaled the pungent mix of blood and decay that tainted the air, letting the reality of the situation ground you.]
[Rationality swiftly smothered the seething rage in your chest. Fury was a weapon, but only when controlled.]
[Controlling one's emotions was the first lesson you were forced to learn upon becoming a Space Wolf, a necessary spiritual discipline.]
[And the Lord of Slaughter's many dominions did not allow you to indulge in reckless anger; that was his weapon, not yours.]
[Draigo, his deep-set eyes narrowing slightly in understanding, suddenly lowered his heavy Storm Shield and clapped his massive, armored hand on your pauldron in silent comfort, recognizing the impossible burden placed on you.]
[You returned the Titansword to Draigo, taking back your 'Khorne Axe' from your shoulder.]
[Together, the two of you continued your arduous journey across the bloodstained plains, your purpose now clear: escape.]
[The vast legions of Khorne trailed behind you like persistent shadows, their presence both an escort and a threat. They would not attack, but they would not let you leave easily.]
[Everywhere you passed, whether Bloodletters wielding Hellblades, towering Brass Beasts, or wild Rampage Behemoths:]
[Each daemon of Khorne that encountered you would first kneel in prayer, a brief moment of reverence… before launching a suicidal charge, driven by their core need for blood and skulls, even if it meant striking their temporary champion.]
[You swung the 'Khorne Axe' relentlessly, cleaving through their daemonic flesh, knowing every kill only strengthened the chaotic bond, yet unable to stop the killing.]
[Yet as long as the daemon sword remained, you continued to attract endless waves of Khorne's daemonic hordes, forcing you into continuous combat.]
[The repeated "blessings" of Khorne and the relentless burning of your Warp flames had pushed your physical strength to a monstrous level, far surpassing what an Astartes should achieve.]
[But you cared little for that. The power was a means, not an end.]
[You only wanted to slay more daemons of Khorne, venting your rage and maintaining control.]
[Draigo, ever solemn, believed your destructive power had already surpassed that of an ordinary Bloodthirster, observing your terrifying efficiency.]
[You grinned but said nothing, accepting the comparison as a grim fact.]
[Hoisting the now-enlarged and even heavier 'Khorne Axe' onto your shoulder, its surface throbbing,]
[Expressionless, you charged toward a herd of colossal Brass Beasts stomping the ground beneath them, eager to close the distance and inflict maximum damage.]
[Before long, you and Draigo finally crossed the bloodstained plains, reaching a treacherous mountainous region known for its unstable peaks and dark shadow.]
[The ever-present legions of Khorne seemed to have received new orders, as they began setting up camp, reorganizing their ranks at the base of the mountains, unwilling to follow you into the difficult terrain.]
[You pressed on toward a perilous peak known as 'Bloodfall Summit,' Draigo's intended escape passage.]
[Draigo, his eyes deep and thoughtful, recounted his past battles: how he slew a Greater Daemon of Khorne, seized its weapon, and reforged his broken blade in a different forge, a subtle lesson in daemon weapon handling.]
[Your cyan wolf eyes widened as you listened intently, realizing the wealth of practical knowledge he possessed.]
[Though you were both blessed by the Emperor, you still believed Draigo was far stronger than you. His indomitable will, unshakable soul, and vast battle experience, all honed through countless perilous years drifting through the Warp, were unmatched.]
[Yet, just as you neared the peak of Bloodfall Summit, a low, guttural roar echoed across the peaks.]
[The crimson sky twisted violently into a chaotic storm, the winds ripping through the shadows.]
[Suddenly, eight towering Bloodthirsters, each over ten meters tall, with massive crimson wings and twin horns atop their heads, manifested before you, coalescing from the chaotic energy.]
[Descending from the sky, they roared in fury, wielding monstrous daemon weapons as they blocked your path—Khorne's final, deadly welcome.]
[You instinctively took a deep breath, the challenge immense.]
[From the servo-arm mounted on your 'Iron Shell' power armor, a fully loaded Storm Bolter instantly raised itself, tracking the nearest daemon, ready to fire.]
[The 'Khorne Axe' in your grasp dragged against the rocky ground, carving a deep, meter-long trench into the stone as you took a heavy stance.]
["Come, lapdogs of the Lord of Slaughter!"]
[With a solemn expression, Draigo raised his Storm Shield, the Titansword igniting in radiant psychic fire, preparing to meet the assault of eight Greater Daemons of Khorne.]