Chapter 48 Everyone is in chaos, so it won’t be.
Julius is running at full speed along the passage.
The sound of metal footsteps echoed multiple times in the empty corridor.
The priest's scepter, book of scriptures and rosary beads on his belt swayed back and forth with the rhythm of running, hitting his power armor and making a rattling sound.
The communication channel was still full of disrupted noise, but he still insisted on calling the Chapter Master and Elder Khadomo.
The Space Marine's modified double heart and lungs are fully supplying his strong muscles and breathing needs.
It should be right after you turn the next corner!
Psychic energy began to surge, and he was about to shout at the chaos he expected to see, but——
There was nothing.
What appeared in front of Julius Robert Omar was still the empty, long gray corridor of the Destiny Steel that was illuminated red by the artificial sunset.
Is the pharmacist's workshop that far away?
The think tank apprentice looked at the time.
Fortunately, it hasn't been long since the departure. There are still nine minutes left. He will definitely be able to catch up.
He frowned and began to run as fast as he could.
In the blood-red twilight, the dark shadows of several birds fluttering their wings passed by.
——
Is what is happening now really true?
Or are we all trapped in a larger illusion - like a spider's web before it eats its prey?
This was the last thing he thought before Besak's windpipe and half of his neck were cut open by the sword like a hot knife cutting through butter.
"Bang Dong!" The Iron Warrior's body fell heavily, and bright red blood flowed freely on the ground of the Iron Blood. Somewhere in the distance, something screamed excitedly.
He received the blood, and He wanted more.
Dedicated by someone who should have given it to him ten thousand years ago.
The man who came out of the vague fog had short white hair and white-blue eyes like blazing star cores. He had a bolt pistol hanging on his belt and held his gun in one hand. sword.
Parogov - No, this is not him, this is not the calm and elegant novice pharmacist.
This is an impossible person who appears in an impossible place through a body that was originally impossible to exist.
Each part of the Crystal Maze sings of a billion new changes as its master exults in the newly emerging threads of destiny.
At this time, the faces of the young Imperial Fist and the original Imperial Fist overlapped through ten thousand years of time and space, and finally settled on a noble and resolute face.
Roger Dorn broke through the fog and continued to move forward resolutely.
——
Dassadra once thought that the word miracle had abandoned them thousands of years ago, but now a miracle did happen here, in front of him.
Even though his naked eyes clearly told him that the white-armored figure in front of him wielding the power sword with extraordinary and furious swordsmanship skills and strength was just a man who had just officially become a complete Space Marine and lacked combat training, let alone combat experience. That face looked like nothing and could not be anywhere else -
He blinked again, the sharp data of the auspicious instrument warning him that what he had to face and what he had to fight personally is -
Prisoner of Terra, the seventh Primarch, Lord of the Imperial Fists Legion, the eternal adversary that Perturabo seeks to utterly defeat, the focus of the Iron Warriors' long-standing unsung hatred. : Roger Dorn.
It’s worth it.
Dassadra tightened his grip on his weapon, the pressure of the Primarch's arrival literally making it difficult to breathe.
But on the other hand, just knowing that he could try to attack Rogal Dorn himself made the war blacksmith's blood boil again.
"I never thought I'd be able to do this, it's better than anything I could have ever imagined!" "In armor!" he roared, raising his power hammer.
"Heart is like steel!!" The remaining Iron Warriors raised their weapons and rushed towards the white figure in the middle again, like waves of steel that were constantly beating against the rocks.
Weapons screamed, explosions resounded, and the power sword was used like a chain sword. The long sword wrapped in an energy field smoothly drew deadly flash arcs in mid-air.
Bolts, hammer heads, and ax blades left traces of attack on the cobalt white power armor, and these tiny scars were accumulating.
After all, this is just an ordinary set of power armor, not the indestructible Auric Armor of the Primarch himself, but it doesn't matter, Rogal Dorn can still fight, and the Imperial Fists still fight.
The sweeping force field blade split all the limbs in the path of his attack into two. His body was covered with large splashes of blood, blood-stained ceramic fragments and broken limbs. An open space formed by arms.
The battle was brutal, but the Iron Warriors had no intention of retreating, because everyone discovered an obvious fact, and this fact alone supported the will of the attackers.
That is: Although the genetically engineered body in front of you is unimaginable to ordinary humans, it is not the demigod body of the original body after all.
The Seventh Primarch came without his usual weapons and armor. Because of this, all the Iron Warriors realized that this was a rare opportunity.
Their attack became even more fanatical, attacking the Imperial Fists from all directions.
The rock is here, the steel wave is unremitting.
Opportunities presented themselves quickly.
In just a moment - due to the slow feedback of ordinary power armor, the besieged target revealed a flaw.
An extremely small and fleeting flaw that would have been impossible to use as a fulcrum for an attack if it weren't for a group of extremely experienced veterans - but unfortunately, this was an attack composed entirely of Iron Warriors from ten thousand years ago. Team, they captured it -
Every Iron Warrior still alive is shaken by the supreme reward they are about to seize.
The beings behind the curtain began to applaud.
"Primarch above, for the glory of you and the Lord of Earth!!"
An angry war cry sounded from behind the broken door, and twin explosions lit up in the shadows The flames of the shotgun and the explosive bomb accurately hit the side of the Iron Warrior who wanted to sneak attack him, knocking the latter directly to the ground.
Rogal Dorn manipulated the young body to turn around and knock down the rest, and then kicked away the last remaining ones.
Who is it?
He raised his eyes and looked up.
A limping black figure came out, scarred and missing an arm.
"Father...!"
The Astartes clutched his bolter with his remaining arm.
"It's you." He remembered this heir, although for some reason the features of his son that remained on that face were fainter and vaguer than he remembered, but Rogal Dorn Remember him.
“Felix.”
Quack!
Congratulations! Dear readers! You read this chapter at breakfast
Heehee, do you feel like a new surprise is accompanying you today?
Today is the first day, so the update time is relatively early. Then we will slowly resume the rhythm of noon + second update in the afternoon
(End of Chapter)