Warhammer: I don't want to become a stinky can!

Page 371

Angron roared, his fury like a raging storm.

Is that all the tricks you have?!

The Lord of Red Sand was trapped in the mist, slashing at the monsters rushing towards him from within it. They seemed like illusions, yet also like real entities.

Drops of blood splattered onto his face.

The demonic tide surged, but before the Primarch, they were insignificant.

They were weaker than those that Angron had previously faced within the Great Maelstrom.

Before He angrily ordered the demon army to attack Angron, the Lord of Red Sand had already experienced eight cycles of illusion.

Angron ignored them; he would find his offspring, even if it meant dying in battle.

With the last demon's head severed, Angron strode into the arena's sands—

He saw the Ultra Warrior.

The Ultramariner stood there, larger than a regular Space Marine, his gleaming blue armor standing out starkly against the sea of ​​crimson.

He was stepping over the corpse of the World Eater.

The next moment, the spinning Bloodfather exploded the head, and the Ultramariner's head, cut in half, flew into the air. The last thing the suspended head saw was Angron at the entrance of the arena, with one hand raised.

At that moment, Angron felt an endless rage.

His offspring were brutally murdered, and the agony of dying overwhelmed him. He heard the Devourers shout for glory and loyalty in their final moments, and he heard their dying cries.

why,

Anglon asked himself, why?

Why is it always him? Why is it always the Devourer of Worlds who suffers all of this? Why? Why is this happening?

The Primarch ran over; the area was shrouded in blood mist, but there were no enemies.

Only the corpse of the World Devourer remained.

He stared incredulously at his offspring, their broken, bleeding bodies, and Angron trembled as he tried to reach out and close their unclosed eyes.

Seeing all this, I'm so sorry, my brother.

A strange yet familiar voice rang out. Angron turned his head and saw an unfamiliar giant.

His face was covered with scriptures, and his violet eyes were full of compassion.

Angron moved his chapped lips. He recognized the man; he had seen his brother in a portrait.

[Hallucination, tell me what you want to do?]

Angron slowly stood up, blood dripping from the battle axe in his hand.

Do you want to fight me?

【No,】

"Luojia" said, as he peacefully opened his arms.

I just feel that you're in a lot of pain, and all of this is meaningless for you.

Angron remained calm, preparing for his next attack.

A counterfeit, he thought.

[Landing in Seraphim, then the Maelstrom, and finally Macragge—this is so unfair to you.]

You could have been freed from all this suffering; your fate wasn't so difficult.

Anglong swung his axe at "Luojia," but he didn't feel any solidity when he struck it; he missed.

This "Luojia" is merely a projection.

Angron stared at the incessantly chattering phantom, cautiously backing away, preparing to leave.

I can save you, brother.

As "Luojia" spoke, the Primarch looked up, and Angron followed his gaze—

He hadn't even noticed there was an altar there before?!

At this moment, several Ultra Warriors and Word Bearers stood there, looking like corpses, like lifeless candlesticks.

Luojia opened its arms.

The power of fate is always stronger than we imagine, Angron, I am acutely aware of this.

Luo Jia turned to the side, looking with interest and patience into the depths of the blood mist.

From within the blood mist, Guilliman charged out, sword raised.

【Killiman?!】

Sword and axe clashed with a deafening roar, sparks flying into Angron's eyes.

Angron gritted his teeth. What on earth was going on?!

The Guilliman he faced seemed to be blinded by rage, his eyes filled with fury as he looked at Angron as if Angron had burned his Alteramar!

It was the Ultra Warrior who killed his warrior!

Angron roared, deflecting Guilliman's sword. He felt his blood boiling unnaturally, and anger urged him to raise his axe.

His emotions were stirred by the death of his offspring, pricking his brain like needles. Anglong tried to pull himself back to his senses, but it was not an easy task.

Angelon exhaled blood, realizing that things were not as they appeared, and he forced himself to calm down.

What should we do now? What should we do now?!

His soul was tormented by raging flames, burning with an unimaginable intensity—

Angron remembered something.

Angron abandoned his offensive initiative, futilely parrying attacks from "Killiman".

Angron gave the imposter Guilliman a deep look. He felt angry, resentful, and frustrated.

He sensed the souls of his other living offspring.

They need him, and he can't just abandon them.

No glory, no dignity...Angron thought, his instincts rebelling against him, cursing him.

But there are still people who need him: the World Eater, Hades, Guilliman… He cannot fall into the enemy's trap again.

He recalled the imposter Luo Jia's words: Why him? Anglong wondered, why him? Why was the enemy watching him so intently?

Angron's reason stung him; he felt absurd, but he seemed to know what to do.

Angron wondered if a higher-dimensional enemy sat on his throne, trapping them with blood and illusions everywhere, and that they could only fight each other in the traps He had set.

He draws strength from war and glory, Angron, you know that, you know—you know what you should do.

They had already fallen into His trap, and Anglon did not want to follow the established path into His arena any longer.

Blood spilled from Angron's mouth, and his vocal cords trembled.

You can do it, Angron, you can do it.

This is not... this is not what you thought.

As Angron thought about it, his soul trembled violently with rage, and finally, in an attempt to convince himself, he thought of Hades.

During the time he was away from the Maelstrom, after confirming that Angron was in a condition where he could engage in simple combat, Angron sparred with Hades once.

Finally, Hades used his scythe to knock away Angron's battle axe.

Angron used his battle axe to knock away the imposter Guilliman's short sword.

A forced smile appeared on his lips; Angron ultimately couldn't reach Hades' level—

"I give up! Stop fighting!!!"

Fighting you is boring and dishonorable—I will not continue to fight you!

next moment,

Angron turned and began to run away.

This was the first time he had actively chosen to run away.

No, Angron absurdly recalled Hades's ramblings to him, "This is a strategic retreat," Angron commented.

The enraged dagger cleaved through his shoulder armor, and a monstrous rage shrieked as it hurtled towards him, carrying with it a desperate cry of despair, a fury born of being fooled, a roar erupting from the blood-soaked throne.

The altar that had been erected collapsed with a deafening roar, and Luo Jia's phantom vanished with a hysterical scream.

Without a backward glance, Angron ran, running towards the direction of his living offspring.

Because he knew he had won.

And they successfully mocked that being.

He was furious.

In the past, they could only fight each other in the arena.

But on a real battlefield, fighting is never the only option.

As Anglon thought about it, he burst into laughter, feeling a strange absurdity and pain. He ran quickly, running away from the stage He had built for him, running away from his original destiny.

A surge of furious blood pounded against him, but Angron knew it was all in vain.

He found it amusing that the step to crushing the enemy was also the step to crushing his own past convictions.

But he knew it was all worth it. He knew he had a future worth sacrificing for, and that his descendants would still need him, rather than dying meaninglessly now.

In Angron's vision, he saw Rock and the other World Eaters, struggling against the Ultramarines—

Angron's pupils suddenly dilated.

Get out of the way!!!

He roared and hurled a blood-red battle axe at Guilliman, who was charging toward them at the same time.

That's it! Great!

--------

Book recommendation

The story begins with a dog, and the book's alternative name is Peturabo, my dog.

You can understand everything from the suggested names. (AC-chan covers her mouth and laughs with a fan)

Chapter 438 Can't fight, absolutely can't fight!

[Calm down, Guilliman!]

Angron roared and, without any hesitation, swung his fist at Guilliman's face.

Robert Killian had never fought Angron, nor had he experienced a fighting style as explosive as Angron's.

Killieman abruptly took a step back, and Angron's punch grazed past him.

Seeing that his attack was ineffective, Angron immediately sidestepped, grabbing the blood-stained battle axe he had just thrown. The chainsaw axe roared deafeningly.

[Retreat! Rock, lead everyone to retreat, but don't stray too far from me!]

Angron roared, his eyes fixed on Guilliman.

He was certain that he was his brother. In fact, the Lord of Red Sand, who possessed the ability to recognize the emotions of others, could distinguish between illusion and reality from beginning to end.

Robert Killman is in terrible condition.

Angron saw the thick blood flowing down his armor, mixed with some kind of blue fragments—Guilliman had killed the Ultramarines, or rather, some being disguised as an Ultramarines.

He looked much older and more tired, with dried bloodstains around his ears; the years had worn away at Guilliman.

Robert Killman was gripped by a fit of rage, but a resolute clarity remained in his azure eyes.

[Killiman! It's me! Angron!]

Angron shouted, dodging Guilliman's swing of his sword. He was certain Guilliman had heard him, but he didn't believe him.

Robert Guilliman has been trapped in the illusion for far too long; he may have already fought Angron countless times within it.