Chapter 287 Red Teeth and Claws
His face was dry and strained by the pressure of the wind, even though the helmet shouldn't have allowed him to experience such useless senses.
At this moment when all the energy is concentrated on the current battle, Akulduna still does not need to think too much about the battle. This is a natural physical activity for him. He allowed the curved arc at the top of the long sword to open up an illusion of light, and let them be skimmed away simultaneously when the blade reflected the light away.
The Templar's attack was fast and violent. After parrying his attack, the opponent did not hesitate and immediately injected speed like lightning into his counterattack, heading towards the black connecting part on the inside of his arm joint. . Pure, true, concise. Even if he is currently fighting with a one-handed sword, getting an arm injured is still a price that can be paid, but is inconvenient.
Akulduna staggered his steps, and immediately dodged to the other side of the warrior, and struck out with a curved blow from the sword in his hand.
The opponent sensed his intention, and what he got was not a beautiful dodge, but an accurate block, a dangerous collision between swords. Sigismund struck back head-on, and the sword grid quickly brushed against his blade.
Yes, Sigismund. Under that bright yellow helmet was a warrior who had no time to express his identity in words. Just as Akulduna never said his name, he clearly understood that his identity was obvious.
Akulduna's sword tore out silver brilliance, and the dance of the golden guard and black horsehair tassels echoed each other with every blow. With each attack, he seemed to be painting a flawless picture, a scroll that rivaled the most beautiful scenes in anyone's memory. He looked for a flaw in Sigismund's defense, and the sunlight in the forest fell like broken gold, swaying and dancing with his attack.
Sigismund's response was extremely precise, with every contact of his sword trying to tear the scroll apart and turn it into nothingness. His sword is just a sword. Made of metal. Shape into shape. Used in fighting, covered in blood, oil mist and mud. It was a weapon, and that was closer to the truth about weapons.
The other party still didn't say a word. The only sound he made was the sound of wind cutting with his sword, as if the sharp blade was his only vocal organ at this moment. He was more silent than his Primarch, but the sword told Akulduna that Sigismund was the same kind of warrior, the same kind of stone, as his Primarch.
Akulduna smiled. He is willing to immerse himself in every battle, listen to the breathing during battle, and look for the rhythm brewing in the intersection of gold and iron. During the battle he could occasionally recall some extremely distant stories, some fleeting glimpses of life at the Turkish court in his childhood.
His biological father fought against the Emperor in the Unification War, but Akulduna never remembered the collapsed dynasty itself.
He just put the beauty that the memories brought him into the depths of his battle, the shadows of the swaying trees, the golden yarn flying in the dust, the pepper and the dishes with splashing soup, half of the study room The open volume of "The Art of War" is said to have been also known as Sun Tzu's Art of War in older times.
Excellence in combat is the same thing as the beauty of it all. If he doesn't learn to love fighting, it will quickly degenerate into a boring affair that bores him.
From the time Akul Duna received the teachings of Thunder Warrior Tariel Collins, he has never been defeated or even injured. Therefore, Akulduna had to learn to maintain his subjective love for fighting.
He admired the polished ceramite side of Sigismund's armor and admired the black edge of the white robe that ran down the inside of his pauldrons.
Then, he pierced it, like grazing a string with a bow. The sword cut off half of the burqa, letting the fibers be cut by the edge of the blade. The sound was subtle and difficult to detect, it was a battle. One of the best soundtracks in the movie, second only to the loud crash of the armor falling to the ground, and far better than any cheers from the people around you.
Sigismund did not move away, he remained silent. This silence made Akulduna feel a sense of otherness. Once upon a time, when warriors still fought side by side on Terra, they were not so clearly distinguished by blood.
The sun is moving, and the light fills the open space in the forest. Time and space are focused here, stagnant in the intertwining of sword edges. Sometimes it was accompanied by some physical confrontations. He struck Sigismund's plastron with his knee and hit his opponent's ankle with his heel. It all happened so naturally, coming at just the right moment like water falling into a ditch, or as precise as sunset and sunrise.
The Emperor's Son's sword is an extension of his body, but his body itself is built for combat.
One blow, and another. Another hard chop. Or an elbow strike. Akulduna pushed Sigismund's fist away, feeling the tremor that spread to his bones. A tacit understanding began to arise within him, which was a good thing for the birth of a friendship, but not for the victory or defeat of a battle. Because this means that the opponent's fighting habits are being mastered by him.
The Templars played well, but not enough. He has experienced a rhythm that is sufficiently grasped from the continuous battles, and has grasped the pulse of the ebb and flow brought by Sigismund. He adjusted his breathing so that his three lungs could do their best work.
"You fought well..."
He did not finish his sentence because Sigismund's fighting rhythm changed. He suddenly raised his sword and rushed forward, and the broken robe on his chest was torn by the wind. The sword was no longer a sharp weapon, it turned into an iron rod, and he poured all his strength into it and swung it down heavily. Akulduna was surprised by this, because it was almost equivalent to giving up the hope of continuing the fight.
But Sigismund broke the confrontation. In an absolutely offensive way.
The heart beats. He tried his best to move his body to the side, knowing that he could not take the edge of the blow head-on. The iron rod was raised high and hit him on the head. The impact point was not the sword body, but the hard sword grid, close to the side of the fist.
At this moment, Akulduna shifted his position, and then he realized that he had slightly lost his balance.
Fortunately, Sigismund's imbalance was more serious, and Akulduna saw his perfect victory.
He gave up correcting his posture and swung his sword straight out, cutting into one shoulder of the lower Sigismund, preventing him from getting up.
But he didn't.
Sigismund's arms grabbed his legs, and he simply fell to the ground, causing Akulduna to fall heavily with him, and the sword fell away. The First Templar of the Imperial Fists was transformed in an instant into a different kind of warrior, one who abandoned his reliance on the rules of weaponry in favor of a more primitive, direct approach to combat. His movements were rough and savage, and for a moment he was tangled up with the Emperor's Children.
A long-lost emotion was born in the battle. Akulduna happily accepted this transformed battle. He fought back with his bare hands, locking any limbs that could be locked with his arms while avoiding Sigi. Smond's fierce attack.
A beast. Akulduna thought.
The beast followed closely, hitting Akulduna's defense with both fists and elbows. The fierce attacks continued. The swordsman felt his bones creaking. Fortunately, Reconstructive surgery ensures that this level of pain will leave nothing but a bruise. Akulduna seized the opportunity to retrieve the sword, turned over and suppressed it, kneeled down on Sigismund, and pressed the side of the sword against the Templar's throat.
Sigismund's armor trembled under his grip. He struggled out a free hand, clenched it into a fist, and smashed Akulduna's jaw hard. The Emperor's Son beat him to it, smashing the opponent's eyepiece with the back of his sword, the fragments piercing the flesh of his face.
The next moment, the fist persisted and smashed his head to the other side. The pain penetrated deep into his facial nerves, causing a violent shock. Colorful spots flashed before his eyes, his ears buzzed, and something warm and moist slid down against his lips.
Akulduna continued to press down on the sword. Sigismund's helmet shattered. The numbers on the Emperor's Children's shoulder plates flashed. Time also stands still at this moment.
In the surrounding woods, more figures appeared one after another. That was the consciousness of the warriors who had been defeated in the previous battle. They did not leave the Court of Narni, but all gathered around to watch this final battle. This surprised Akulduna.
He let go of Sigismund, allowing him to return to the green torrent of data and merge into the soil. Then he found himself still on his knees.
The Emperor's Children were in no hurry to stand up. He took off his helmet, licked the sweet blood, and thought deeply.
He is injured.
The Templars reunited into a new consciousness in the woods and walked towards Akulduna in the woods. He took off his helmet, and his repaired facial expression was difficult to discern, but there was undoubtedly tranquility in his blue eyes. "You win," said Sigismund.
“Yes,” Akulduna raised the corners of his mouth and smiled. For some reason, a strong feeling of joy was lingering deep in his heart. "I heard that you are also from Terra?"
"Ionus Plateau Refugee Camp." Sigismund answered.
"So, you are actually a member of the gang. I thought you were a Europa officer's son. I like this battle, Sigismund. Red Teeth and Blood Claws."
The Emperor's Son smiled After spitting out a pool of blood in his mouth, he suddenly saw a group of exceptionally tall shadows appearing behind the Templars.
He raised his head and shook his head, unable to stand up, so he just lowered his head and saluted.
"Father." Akulduna said respectfully, still smiling.
“Won beautifully.” Fulgrim personally took his heir by the hand, “A perfect battle, Akulduna.”
"No, it's not perfect." Akulduna replied, "I bleed, father."
"Oh, that's Dorne's beloved Sigismund," Fulgrim said. Don't care, "Me, Dorn and Perturabo are guessing who can win. Perturabo lost the bet."
Akulduna shook his head slightly, he felt for his sudden persistence Surprised: "My fight was not perfect, father. But I won."
Fulgrim's elegant and reserved smile faded. "I see," he said softly, "You think you can still improve, don't you?"
"Perhaps, Lord Primarch." Akulduna said, "If one If he has some kind of outstanding talent, his achievements in this field are very meaningless to him, and I just discovered that the meaning of fighting is richer than I thought."
Fulgrim smiled again and patted the sword master affectionately on the shoulder. "A very good discovery, Second Captain. What do you think, brothers?"
"Do you want me to praise your perfect heir?" asked Perturabo. "On his first appearance at the Court of Narni, his score exceeded the displayed limit. Since the extra carry was omitted, he now has zero score."
"You can't, Skyhawk. Like this, Perturabo." Phoenix nudged Perturabo's shoulder.
"Fortunately, I have temporarily fixed this fault." Perturabo continued, and the numbers on Akulduna's shoulder armor were rearranged to add the missing carry.
Phoenix shrugged: "Thank you for your recognition of my sword master."
"After Sigismund relaxed the admission criteria for Codex warriors, the first warrior who met his original regulations appeared." Rogal Dorn said, "If you have thought about the meaning of battle, you can do it later. Discuss this issue with Sigismund."
"Thank you, Lord Rogal Dorn." Akulduna agreed readily, his smile matching that of his original body. As charming as it is moving.
“I’m not perfect,” Sigismund said suddenly, seeming to draw his own understanding from the conversation.
"I know." Akulduna said happily, stretching out his hand to him. "Me too."
Sigismund paused for a few seconds and held his hand.
There was a thought brewing in Fulgrim's deepening smile.
“Can I invite Akul Duna to strengthen training for the Templars?” Sigismund turned to the Primarchs, “In this battle, our overall score was not ideal. "
"Don't be like this, Imperial Fists," Fulgrim sighed absentmindedly, the boundless purple in his eyes seemed to be shaking slightly, "I also plan to let him go to the Iron Hands. "
Just as Dorn was about to speak, a snap of his fingers suddenly sounded in the air.
"I didn't mean to disturb you..." Morse's joking voice floated over the woods, "But we have a new guest coming...or, in other words, back."
"Uh, hello." Another voice sounded in the virtual space, "Are you in the Court of Narni? It seems that it has become a successful experiment, enough to be invested in more subsequent research and practical use. "But, Perturabo, can you ask the Cheorwon to issue me an access pass? Your macro cannon is aiming at our ship."
The virtual world suddenly disappeared after entering the simulation space. , the Astartes, whose bodies were lying on the ground, stood up one by one despite the phantom pain remaining after the battle. Akulduna immediately saw Sigismund lying in a pile of warriors opposite him, and he nodded to him.
"You came faster than I thought, Magnus." Perturabo said, closing his eyes, "Access is granted, and we will dock on deck seven."
"Because I have to bring these World Eaters over as quickly as possible," Magnus' voice continued to float, "Angron will arrive at Olympia at the same time as the Emperor, but he hopes that his heirs will not miss it. Too many activities to follow. So I, another temporary body of my adult body, completed the subspace navigation myself."
"Some people are going to be disappointed," Morse said with a smile. A roll of parchment appeared in the room containing Narni's Court. "I don't think your heirs would like you to rush to Olympia at this time, Magnus."
"Huh?" Magnus' surprise was mixed with a sense of loss, "Why?"
"Because it means they have something to do." Morse said, "For example, being on time The World Eaters who arrived at the wrestling match entered the Court of Narni and were beaten at close range without being able to use their psychic powers."
"Huh?" Magnus changed his tone. "Then...shall I take them to get lost in the subspace for a while?"
"Come in," Perturabo said. Even just listening to his voice, you could tell that he was smiling, "Don't Keep the fortress gate waiting for too long, my brother. I will assign the next battle tomorrow to the World Eaters and the Sun of Dust, and your place in the auditorium will be reserved."
(End of this chapter. )