In the center of the arena, Lucius slowly drew his Number 19 power sword from his waist.
The craftsmanship of the blade was exquisite. The sword was slender, its edge practically radiating a frigid, lethal light.
The hilt was inlaid with the teeth of thirty-one defeated xenos, and the blade itself had been nano-etched by the Mechanicus to release a high-frequency vibration during cuts.
He twirled the sword in his hand, the flourish as theatrical and elegant as a stage performance.
"Lord Gabriel."
Lucius's voice had completely recovered its aristocratic ease, as if his earlier panic and excuses had never even happened.
"Are you absolutely sure you want to fight?"
Paul merely raised his hands. The lightning claws embedded into the forearms of his Gorgon Terminator armor slid out with a heavy metallic sound.
Five razor-sharp metal talons gleamed under the floodlights, with ghostly blue arcs of disruption field energy crackling furiously along the edges.
The standard-issue melee weapons of the Iron Hands First Captain.
Lucius's gaze lingered on the lightning claws for a second before a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Lightning claws?"
"Certainly fits your Legion's brutal aesthetic."
"But..."
He paused, a thick layer of superiority coating his words.
"Do you really think a crude weapon like that can stop my blade?"
Paul spoke up slowly, "Lucius."
"Are you ready to repent for the sins you committed when you insulted the warriors of the Iron Hands?"
Lucius scoffed. "Save the trash talk."
"Since you're so eager for a beating, I'll be more than happy to oblige."
His voice abruptly turned ice-cold, adjusting the angle of his power sword in his grip.
"Let's begin!"
"Let me see exactly what the First Company Captain of the Iron Hands is truly capable of."
The surrounding whispers instantly silenced.
Everyone held their breath; the air itself seemed to freeze.
The next second...
Lucius moved.
His speed was terrifying, his purple silhouette tearing through the air like a bolt of lightning.
Lucius's attack speed far exceeded that of a regular Space Marine. Combined with his Astartes physique and the assistance of his power armor, he could execute rapid, lethal thrusts in under 0.3 seconds—a technique hailed as the interwoven dance of light and shadow.
The cold gleam of his Number 19 power sword dragged out a dozen overlapping sword shadows under the floodlights.
This was Lucius's signature sword technique... the Crimson Curtain.
Every single afterimage was a real attack, and every single thrust was aimed directly at his opponent's lethal weak points.
A normal Astartes facing this strike wouldn't even be able to tell which shadow was fake and which was real. They could only instinctively retreat or throw up a wild, desperate block.
And that opening was exactly what Lucius wanted.
As long as the opponent stepped back half a pace, his second strike would accurately pierce their throat.
The surrounding Emperor's Children Astartes let out low gasps of shock.
This strike was simply too fast.
So fast that most of them could only see a blur of purple.
Lucius himself was already smiling victoriously in his mind.
He had practiced this strike for countless years.
The xenos warlords and rebel leaders who had died to this move numbered in the eighties, if not the hundreds.
Gabriel Santar, even if you are the First Company Captain of the Iron Hands, it's absolutely impossible...
The blade was less than half a meter away from Paul's neck.
Lucius's lips were already curling into a smug smirk.
But that smile quickly froze.
Because the silver-grey figure hadn't moved an inch from start to finish.
Amidst the sky full of sword shadows, he merely slowly raised his right arm.
The middle and index fingers of his lightning claw perfectly pinched the blade of the true power sword.
Clang!
The crisp ring of colliding metal exploded in the center of the clearing.
Lucius's all-out strike was just... caught... between two fingers.
The massive kinetic force behind the blade vanished without a trace the moment it touched those two fingers, like a stone sinking into the ocean.
"What?!"
Lucius's pupils violently constricted.
Outside the ring, the Emperor's Children Astartes collectively sucked in a breath of cold air.
"Holy shit?!"
"How is this possible?!"
"Lucius's strike... just got caught?!"
Saul Tarvitz's eyes went wide.
Vespasian's face showed genuine surprise.
"Lord Gabriel's combat awareness..." Vespasian muttered to himself. "Is it actually this precise?"
He saw it clearly.
Even though Lucius's Crimson Curtain relied on extreme speed to leave countless afterimages, there was only one true killing blow.
And Gabriel Santar had pinpointed that exact strike among the myriad of shadows, blocking it using the most energy-efficient method possible.
That kind of combat awareness... was downright terrifying.
--
A dead silence fell over the spectators.
[I Eat Tomatoes]: "Holy shit!! He caught Lucius's sword with two claws?!"
[For the Regent Yellow Guilliman] muttered, "Is that even allowed?"
[Sanguinius Is My Husband]: "What kind of god-tier play is this?!"
[Worthy of Sanguinius's Blood]: "Did you guys see that?"
[Worthy of Sanguinius's Blood]: "Did he even move?"
[Worthy of Sanguinius's Blood]: "I totally missed how he blocked that!"
[Loyal Battle Sister of the Imperium]: "I told you [Paul Dawn] definitely had serious skills!"
In the [Wings of Freedom Regional Chat], the Chaos players were also mind-blown:
[Konnichiwa Slaanesh-chan]: "WTF????"
[I Just Like Sleeping In]: "Are my eyes playing tricks on me?"
[I Just Like Sleeping In]: "He caught Lucius's sword with two fingers?"
[Blue Pigeon Knows Nothing]: "What level of combat awareness is that?"
[Blue Pigeon Knows Nothing]: "With all those afterimages, how did he know which one was real?"
[Konnichiwa Slaanesh-chan]: "Is this the true power of the number one player on the server??"
[Konnichiwa Slaanesh-chan]: "Terrifying!!"
The Crimson Dawn chat was a whole different vibe:
[Selling Cola at the Terra Palace Gates]: "Holy shit! Paul is a legend!!!"
[Dragon Bro Never Yields]: "Catching Lucius's sword with two fingers! I could brag about watching this for a year!"
--
Tarvitz stood on the sidelines, his eyes full of shock.
Vespasian whispered next to him, "Commander Gabriel... is even stronger than the rumors."
Vespasian nodded to himself. "His combat awareness... is terrifying."
"I'm afraid even Kaesoron wouldn't necessarily have the upper hand.."
In the arena, Lucius's face was flushed bright red.
He yanked his sword hard, but the blade wouldn't budge an inch, clamped tight as if held by a steel vice.
Paul stood his ground, watching Lucius try to pull his sword free.
Deep within his pupils, the stars representing the Wisdom trait slowly rotated.
All of Lucius's previous movements had appeared as slow as a snail to him. What seemed like a sky full of sword shadows was a joke; the one strike that actually held lethal intent had been locked onto by Paul from the very beginning.
Muscle contractions, blade trajectory, center of gravity...
Everything was laid bare under the insight of the Wisdom trait.
"Lord Lucius."
Paul's voice was calm, dripping with undisguised contempt.
"You call yourself the greatest blademaster of the Emperor's Children. Is this all you've got?"
He paused, his tone dropping a few degrees colder. "If word of this gets out, aren't you afraid of embarrassing Lord Fulgrim?"
The words slapped Lucius across the face like a physical blow.
The surrounding Emperor's Children Astartes began to whisper among themselves.
The looks they shot him carried a trace of... disappointment.
Lucius's face went from flushed red to deathly pale.
His chest heaved violently, a low growl escaping his throat.
"You forced my hand!"
He suddenly surged with power, finally ripping his sword free from the lightning claws, instantly leaping backward to put ten meters between them.
Paul stayed where he was, making no move to pursue.
He just quietly watched Lucius, like watching the desperate flailing of a pathetic clown.
He had to thoroughly humiliate Lucius.
This Emperor's Child—who was notorious for his treachery and backstabbing the Loyalists—was a total piece of trash.
Now that he had the perfect opportunity, he wasn't going to let him off easy.
Lucius panted heavily, his right hand violently tapping a panel on the side of his power armor.
Click...
The sensory resonance vials mounted on the back of his artificer power armor let out a soft hiss.
Three slender vials popped out of their storage slots, their contents slowly pushing through the tubes and directly into Lucius's spine.
Red Grail. It sharpened visual sensitivity, allowing the user to catch the most minute muscle twitches.
Kiss of Sicaran. It converted pain signals into electrical currents, temporarily overcharging the power armor and weapon output.
Chemosian Elixir. It enhanced sensory pleasure, throwing the user into a state of sheer battle-ecstasy and comprehensively boosting combat efficiency.
These were the masterpieces of the Emperor's Children apothecaries, their ultimate trump cards.
Normally, Lucius wouldn't even consider using them.
The buffs they provided were massive, but the side effects were significant. These side effects would ruin the perfect artistry of a true blademaster, something he usually found unacceptable.
But now...
To defeat this detestable Gabriel, he couldn't care less.
The moment the three combat stimms hit his system, Lucius's body violently shuddered.
His eyes turned bloodshot, his muscles visibly swelling under the effects of the drugs. The energy conduits across his power armor flared with blinding light.
His aura...
Was at least 60% stronger than before.
The faces of the surrounding Emperor's Children Astartes shifted. They didn't expect Lucius to resort to combat stimms so quickly.
Was Lord Gabriel really putting that much pressure on him?
Saul Tarvitz furrowed his brow, his right hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of his own sword.
Vespasian whispered, "Stimm enhancements... is he fighting for his life?"
In the Crimson Dawn chat, the players started to worry:
[Selling Cola at the Terra Palace Gates]: "Holy shit, Lucius is doping!"
[Dragon Bro Never Yields]: "Popping three stimms at once, is this guy insane?"
[Shinnosuke Eating Lemons]: "Can Paul hold him off?"
[Have You Been Loyal Today?]: "Relax, Paul hacked down three Greater Daemons, remember?"
--
Lucius took a deep breath, feeling the raw power surging through his veins.
He suddenly felt that his previous strict adherence to blademaster principles and refusal to use drugs was a mistake. This feeling… was absolutely exquisite.
His vision sharpened perfectly; he could see every microscopic scratch on Paul's shoulder plates.
His armor's output skyrocketed; he could feel every single armor plate roaring with energy.
And that Chemosian Elixir plunged his entire being into a bizarre, euphoric high.
Combat was meant to be enjoyed.
He looked at Paul.
His eyes burned with a maniacal confidence.
He gripped his power sword tightly, ominous arcs of electricity dancing across the blade.
"Gabriel!"
"Now..."
His voice went raspy, laced with a deranged edge:
"Let me show you what true swordsmanship looks like."
Before the words fully landed, Lucius moved.
This time, his speed was at least double what it was before.
The sword shadows Lucius swung out multiplied to seventy-two.
Every single afterimage was swinging a blade, carrying a shrill shriek that tore through the air.
Every strike was aimed at a different vital spot on Paul's body.
Seventy-two phantoms, three true blades.
A rain of sword light.
Outside the ring, aside from Saul Tarvitz, Vespasian, and a few other Captain-level combatants, nobody else could even track Lucius's movements.
They only saw a curtain of purple light completely swallowing that silver-grey figure.
In the Imperial faction chat, players were freaking out:
[Worthy of Sanguinius's Blood]: "Holy crap! Lucius's speed! I literally can't see a thing!"
[I Eat Tomatoes]: "Is this a speed a human can even achieve??"
[For the Regent Yellow Guilliman]: "It's over, it's over, [Paul Dawn] is in danger!"
[The Imperium's Purest Inquisitor]: "Lucius might be a piece of trash, but his swordsmanship... is no joke!"
In the Chaos faction chat, players were hyped:
[Konnichiwa Slaanesh-chan]: "Badass! Lucius is going to win this!"
[I Just Like Sleeping In]: "Buffed by three stimms, his combat power just doubled at least!"
[I Just Like Sleeping In]: "No matter how strong [Paul Dawn] is, he won't be able to tank this!"
[Number One Handsome of the Soul Hall]: "Heh heh heh... this is more like it! This is how fierce Lucius is supposed to be!"
[Blue Pigeon Knows Nothing]: "It's over, the number one player on the server is about to get wiped!"
--
In the arena, the rain of sword light crashed down.
Paul still stood exactly where he was.
But deep within his pupils, the stars of Wisdom began to rotate once more.
Wisdom trait: Insight.
Lucius's lightning-fast silhouette was broken down into frame-by-frame slow motion in his eyes.
Seventy-two sword shadows.
Three true blades.
The truly lethal ones were the three true strikes hidden at the very back of the sword light.
These strikes were far more treacherous than before.
The three angles were aimed squarely at his throat and his two hearts.
An imperceptible smirk pulled at the corner of Paul's mouth.
Then, he raised his left hand. The five talons of his lightning claw splayed open, simply grabbing out...
Clang!
The sharp crack of colliding metal exploded once again.
The tip of Lucius's artificer power sword plunged flawlessly into the palm of the lightning claw.
And it was once again firmly gripped.
Only the strike aimed at Paul's throat managed to swing out, stopping less than three centimeters from his neck. The other two attacks were stillborn, completely unable to be pulled back.
Lucius's eyes bugged out like brass bells.
His body froze in place, locked in a lunging posture, unable to move a muscle.
Those dozens of afterimages instantly vanished, leaving only his solitary figure standing right in front of Paul.
His power sword was caught fast in Paul's crackling lightning claw.
Lucius's sure-kill strike—fueled by three potent combat stimms—had been casually blocked by Paul simply grabbing it.
Paul looked down at the sword tip hovering a mere three centimeters from his throat, then looked back up at Lucius.
There wasn't a ripple of emotion in his eyes.
Only a faint trace of... disappointment.
"Lucius."
His voice was as hard as iron, smashing into Lucius's heart like a sledgehammer.
"Did you actually think popping a few pills would make you win?"
Lucius's flawless face was a mask of utter disbelief.
He stared at his power sword, trapped yet again, and rasped out:
"Impossible!!"
"How could you possibly catch all three of my strikes at once?!"
"Even Father called those three strikes the closest thing to absolute perfection."
--
Next Bonus chapter at 400 Powerstones.
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