The stimm-injector harness on Lucius's back hummed, injecting large quantities of high-concentration stimms into his body.
This harness was a device Lucius won after triumphing in the Gomorrah gladiatorial arena.
It contained various nerve stimulants that could enhance his speed and strength, and also keep him constantly euphoric and excited.
Lucius's speed was incredibly fast, like a phantom; ordinary people would find it difficult to even glimpse his afterimage.
Lucius extended his long tongue, licking his chapped lips.
He was already thinking about how to torture this clueless fool before him.
The Warmaster held his breath, gripping his sword with both hands, muscles tensed, ready to strike with full force at any moment.
During the Great Crusade, Lucius's swordsmanship had already reached its peak, making him hard to match.
After receiving Slaanesh's blessing, he had honed his skills for ten millennia, defeating many Imperial heroes.
The Warmaster knew very well that he was no match for him.
However, the Archmagos was key to the Primarch's resurrection, and the consequences of letting Lucius kill him were unimaginable.
Therefore, he had to step forward.
Even if he couldn't win, he had to hold Lucius back.
Moreover, the Warmaster had also thought of a strategy to defeat his opponent even if his swordsmanship was inferior.
Lucius's attack was as swift and deadly as a venomous snake striking.
The blade sliced through the air, too fast for the naked eye to follow.
Clang!
The Warmaster used the greatsword in his hand to block the stinging blade in Lucius's hand, which pulsed with malevolent power.
Blades collided, emitting a clanging sound.
Subsequently, Lucius delivered several more strikes, which the Warmaster parried with his master-level two-handed sword skills.
"A little skill, but only that."
Lucius was incredibly arrogant.
He accelerated, launching a barrage of attacks at the Warmaster, each strike at a tricky and vicious angle, difficult to defend against.
The Warmaster had no choice but to continuously retreat, dodging his attacks.
The Warmaster, now on the back foot, had an idea and shouted out.
"You are not as good as Tavitz."
Lucius's expression changed, his twisted face twitched, and his eyes grew even more malicious.
"I don't care, he's dead, and I'm still alive."
The Warmaster smiled.
Being in a real game also had its advantages.
For instance, when an enemy's defenses were broken by taunts, their movements would become flawed and disjointed.
"Do you remember Sarokin of the Raven Guard?"
"Tsk tsk, you lost to him twice, especially in the second duel, he killed you easier than killing a dog."
Lucius's body stiffened, and his continuous assault paused briefly.
The Warmaster seized the opportunity, sweeping his greatsword horizontally.
Lucius was forced to create distance, dodging the greatsword's attack.
"Fulgrim preferred Tavitz, but it's a pity Tavitz was unwilling to betray the Emperor."
"As for you, he didn't want you at all, Eidolon even disdained you."
"Do you remember how you grovelled and begged Eidolon for a chance on Istvaan III?"
"If not for Tavitz's stubborn resistance, you wouldn't have had a chance at all."
"Eidolon wouldn't even bother talking to you, he'd just chop off your head and take credit."
"Ultimately, everything you are now is built upon Tavitz."
"Even now, if you and Tavitz were placed before Fulgrim, your Primarch would undoubtedly choose Tavitz."
"I'll kill you." Lucius shrieked.
Visible sound waves were released from his mouth.
Relying on his keen combat intuition, the Warmaster rolled to dodge.
The sound waves pulverized the shattered psychically-infused bone structures, turning them to dust.
If they had hit a person, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
The Warmaster stood up, swung his greatsword, and chopped towards his opponent.
Lucius parried with his sword, but the force was too great.
He was forced back a few steps, staggering.
"You can't even compare to a single hair of Tavitz; in the loyalist faction, Tavitz could easily suppress you."
"If he chose to betray, Fulgrim would probably be dancing with joy."
"You're enraged, desperate to kill me, because you know very well that everything I'm saying is true."
The Warmaster charged forward, provoking Lucius with words, and thrusting his greatsword with the momentum.
Lucius was forced to retreat, awkwardly creating distance.
The Warmaster pressed on, seizing an opportunity to ram into his opponent, causing him to lose balance and retreat further.
Immediately, another crouching horizontal cut, which Lucius parried with his stinging sword.
But the Warmaster swiftly changed his move, thrusting his sword in a reverse cut, tearing open Lucius's neck guard.
The sharp serrations bit through the supernaturally enhanced armor.
Accompanied by the shrieks of souls, blood mixed with stimulants flowed down the armor.
Lucius's armor was named 'Howling Soul', and it imprisoned tens of thousands of tormented souls.
Due to Slaanesh's blessing, no matter who killed Lucius, as long as there was a trace of excitement and satisfaction, they would be possessed by Lucius.
As time went on, Lucius would take over the possessed person, turning them into a wailing face on his armor.
Those he killed would also be imprisoned within the armor, tortured for all eternity, with no hope of release.
"You made me bleed." Lucius shrieked, his grotesque face filled with pure malice.
The Warmaster swept his greatsword horizontally, while his opponent ducked to dodge.
The roaring chainsword only tore through the air, and his waist was violently struck by Lucius's elbow.
The Warmaster was forced to create distance, while Lucius coiled around him like a venomous snake.
The longsword in his hand stabbed towards the Warmaster's abdomen.
This strike was vicious and swift.
The Warmaster reacted too slowly and was impaled against the psychically-infused bone wall by his opponent's sword.
The sharp blade instantly pierced through the armor plating on the Warmaster's abdomen.
Burning pain emanated from the wound, causing the Warmaster to groan.
Clearly, Lucius had coated his sword with neurotoxin.
Fortunately, the game had a pain threshold.
If he were to truly endure the damage from the neurotoxin, the Warmaster would probably cry like a squealing runt whose toe had been stepped on.
"Your soul is mine now; you will be eternally imprisoned, submerged in despair and pain, until the stars extinguish, until everything decays."
Lucius's tone carried a frenzied excitement.
He licked his lips with his tongue, savoring the sweetness brought by this strike.
The greatsword slipped from the Warmaster's hand.
He gasped, removing his helmet to reveal a resolute face.
Coughing blood, he mockingly said, "My soul belongs to the God-Emperor, you fool."
"No, it belongs to me now."
"Indeed, you can't compare to Tavitz; your swordsmanship is lacking, and your mind is too. What class are you, to be worthy of fighting the God-Emperor for my soul?"
"I will make you regret saying that."
Lucius trembled with rage.
Even when facing opponents far stronger than himself, he had never been so utterly broken as he was today.
"Do you know that standing this close is actually very dangerous?"
The Warmaster revealed a sly smile, his plan having succeeded.
"What do you mean?"
Lucius felt a faint sense of unease.
"I know I can't beat you, but guess why I'm fighting you?"
Lucius was stunned, not understanding what his opponent meant.
"Because if I were further away, I'd be afraid I couldn't blow you up."
The Warmaster suddenly moved forward, allowing the blade to pierce through his body.
Lucius heard a rapid beeping sound coming from the battle armor of the person in front of him.
He realized something, his pupils slightly dilating.
Lucius wanted to turn and flee, but the Warmaster embraced him tightly.
This was the Warmaster's strategy.
He had set up the self-destruct program long ago, needing only one final command.
Boom!
A deafening explosion resounded.
Both disappeared together into the rising flames.
"Such loyalty is moving."
The Imperial loyalists nearby all showed expressions of emotion.
Being able to detonate the war armor so quickly indicated that the self-destruct function was incorporated from the very beginning of its design.
To think of dragging the enemy to hell with him before the battle even began—
How could such an act be achieved without absolute loyalty and belief?
"That guy, he got to put on a big show again."
Tenjiro grumbled, and the staff in his hand suddenly erupted with surging psychic power.
Bright bolts of lightning appeared, sending all nearby enemies flying.
"Your psychic potential is quite good, but unfortunately, your application technique is too poor, and your movements are not elegant enough."
Eldrad Ulthran, standing nearby, waved his hand casually,
and released streaks of ice crystals that pierced through distant enemies.
His movements were elegant, and not a single trace of psychic power overflowed.
Tenjiro tilted his head to look, feeling subtly displeased in his heart.
He finally understood why the Imperium didn't like cooperating with these 'bean sprouts'.
Who could endure such a venomous tongue?!
I'm fighting for my life here, and this old geezer is standing by evaluating my technique as poor and my movements as not elegant enough.
If it weren't for the penalty for attacking friendly units,
Tenjiro would definitely have a PK with this old geezer,
to let him witness what player self-destruct art was.
"These are some techniques regarding the application of psychic power; if you can master them, they will be of immense help to you."
A pulsating Aeldari symbol appeared at Eldrad Ulthran's fingertip.
The symbol traced an elegant arc and landed before Tenjiro.
When he reached out and touched it, the symbol transformed into light and merged into his body.
[You have gained some Warp knowledge, the power of various skills has increased, and consumption has decreased]
As soon as the prompt appeared, Tenjiro's gaze towards Eldrad Ulthran instantly became fervent.
As expected of someone whose ancestors were once wealthy, his generosity was immense.
This was simply the Middle Eastern oil baron of Warhammer 40k.
Squeeze, he must squeeze him hard.
"Thank you for your teaching and guidance, respected Elder, I will bear it in mind."
Tenjiro's attitude became very respectful,
even the nickname 'old geezer' turned into 'Elder'.
Eldrad Ulthran nodded, quite pleased.
He could feel the aura of that Angel on these individuals.
They were one.
Through this person in front of him, he might be able to build a bridge to communicate with that Angel and convey goodwill.
Skarbrand is called the Exile.
He was once one of the greatest champions of the Brass Citadel.
Later, due to Tzeentch's incitement, he ambushed Khorne and was banished by the enraged Khorne.
Even so, he remains one of the most terrifying entities in the Warp.
Even with the assistance of the Aeldari God-chosen champion, Thousand Faces,
and the blessings of the Emperor's power, Alex still couldn't defeat Skarbrand.
Being able to hold him back and prevent him from interfering with the battlefield was already the limit.
As time passed, Alex slowly fell into a disadvantage, barely able to hold on.
After all, his level was too low, and his overall strength was no match for the opponent.
The wandering Thousand Faces was also somewhat disheveled.
Horrifying cracks appeared on his exquisite war armor.
"Cortana." Alex called out in his mind.
"Master." Cortana responded.
"Charge the Lance, give this Daemon a volley."
After realizing he couldn't win, Alex decided to sacrifice himself to take down the opponent.
Anyway, he could revive, so there was nothing to worry about.
Thousand Faces left a wound on Skarbrand with the sword in his hand, then turned and disappeared.
Skarbrand couldn't catch Thousand Faces,
so he roared and unleashed all his fury upon Alex.
Boom!
The flaming battle-axe swept across, and the dilapidated spirit-bone buildings collapsed completely.
After another clash,
Alex wanted to flap his wings and fly, trying to put some distance between himself and the Khorne Greater Daemon.
Skarbrand's battle-axe in one hand disappeared,
then, with his now free hand, he grabbed Alex's ankle and slammed him violently into the ground.
With a bang, cracks appeared in the solid ground.
One of Alex's wings broke, and crimson blood flowed from his shattered war armor.
"Blood for the Blood God, skulls for the Skull Throne."
Skarbrand, holding dual axes, intended to execute Alex.
"Do not harm my Lord."
Little Fatty activated the Zagu 01 Type Enhanced Mech's back thrusters and rushed towards Skarbrand.
He had been relying on his powerful firepower to harvest traitors and Daemons.
His contribution points were soaring,
and he had thought taking first place this time was a sure thing.
Until the Warmaster dragged Lucius the Eternal to their mutual demise, he felt a bit uneasy again.
How could killing small fries compare to the rewards of killing a BOSS?!
Seeing the Guide fall into a disadvantage, he immediately rushed over at full speed, activating rescue mode.
Skarbrand, who was about to execute Alex, sensed something was amiss and turned to look.
Seeing the massive mech charging towards him, his flaming twin pupils slightly expanded.
Before he could react, Little Fatty controlled the Zagu to collide with him.
The massive mech knocked the Khorne Greater Daemon away, giving Alex a chance to breathe.
The mech and the Greater Daemon tumbled through the ruins, smashing through several magnificent buildings.
"Die!"
Little Fatty aimed the laser cannon at Skarbrand's head, his voice excited.
Killing this Greater Daemon, getting MVP, that's a sure thing!
As the muzzle erupted with a bright glow, a brilliant beam of light shot out,
blowing off half of the Khorne Greater Daemon's head.
But he still didn't die; instead, he let out a deafening roar.
The flaming battle-axe in his hand struck the mech.
Instantly, sparks flew, and oil sprayed out.
A rapid alarm blared in the cockpit.
The dense red warnings made Little Fatty's heart sink.
In just a moment, the mech's damage reached over 50%.
Skarbrand's body began to change,
and in less than a breath, he became as large as the Zagu 01 Type mech.
Warp Daemons all possess this adaptive ability,
able to adjust their bodies according to the enemy's size.
His shattered head also rapidly regenerated in the Warp energy.
"omnissiah above, initiate self-destruct sequence immediately."
Realizing that the Zagu 01 Type Enhanced Mech could neither defeat nor escape the opponent,
Little Fatty decisively ordered the energy core to overload and self-destruct.
Accompanied by an earth-shattering explosion,
the dim Webway was illuminated by the slowly rising Mushroom cloud.
Skarbrand let out an unwilling roar in the flames.
And at this moment, several warships, led by the Imperial Glory, had just finished charging and simultaneously fired bright lances.
On the other side, Yvraine, Eldrad Ulthran, and several Aeldari seers also surged with unimaginable psychic power, preparing to jointly banish the Khorne Greater Daemon.