Imperial Fists: I'll Show My Brothers, You

Whatever!

"Hurry up!"

"Everyone, double time! No one falls behind!"

Captain Tor Garadon's stern face drew tight, his two thick brows rising as he issued the order with considerable severity.

As Captain of the Imperial Fists Third Company, he was also the longest-serving battle captain in the Legion's history.

This Captain was renowned, and he was a powerful warrior besides, his body and strength almost the perfect embodiment of the admonitions and teachings of his Father of Genes, Dorn.

His will had been tempered on thousands upon thousands of battlefields and worlds, and he was the strongest iron wall of the Imperial Fists!

Garadon sprinted forward at a marching run, followed by the muscular brutes of Third Company.

The warriors of the Imperial Fists were one of the strongest, most iron-willed groups among the Adeptus Astartes.

Now this band of warriors had not even had time to put on their robes. They rushed toward their destination with arms swinging, causing a commotion in the Sanctuary and drawing every eye.

That was the posture of battle.

Garadon was still shouting to his company, rousing their morale:

"Sons of Dorn, we are about to face a trial, one tied to the Legion's future."

"We are the company with the firmest will in the Legion. Whoever falls first can roll back to the Phalanx Sanctuary and accept confinement!"

Before long, the upright battle captain had led his company to their destination, where scorching gas and a thunderous roar surged into their faces.

It was the nightmare of all Imperial warriors, the testing ground of supreme courage and physical strength—

The Hell Sauna Park.

The Imperial Knight-class plasma reaction engine alloy massage machines, the Super Fascia Blade Hell, and the Ultra-high Temperature Steam Sauna in this area were all projects that Imperial warriors had