"You're a crafty lot, not much like warriors under the Blood God—"
Pedron looked at those shifty-eyed daemons and let out a cold laugh.
His attitude was full of contempt, without the slightest trace of fear. He looked at the Khorne daemons before him as if they were lambs waiting for the slaughter.
This was humanity's attitude toward daemons: to examine them, to look down upon Chaos Daemons from above, and make them feel fear.
Just as His Majesty the Savior had said—
Times were different now. Humanity had grown powerful.
We should cast off the mindset of past sufferers and treat the warp with the attitude of conquerors, bringing thunderous wrath down upon all who resisted!
This was the best choice.
In this warp, where idealist forces exerted an enormous influence, humanity had to be tough, had to be cold, had to make its enemies afraid. Only then could they become even stronger, and ultimately conquer this dimension completely.
This may be the proudest moment the Grey Knights have had in ten thousand years. We have not failed The Emperor's former hopes, and have also become the sharpest weapon against daemons—
Pedron thought this to himself.
In the past, although the Grey Knights had achieved many results in battle against daemons, their sacrifices had been equally devastating.
Most of the time, they had been utterly frustrated, merely cleaning up the aftermath, and had even once been forced to the edge of the abyss by the forces of Chaos.
At that time, the Grey Knights were short on troops, lacking in weapons, and faced with endless daemonic assaults.
They were practically walking on the edge of a blade, struggling ceaselessly in despair.
Every day, Pedron received brutal battle reports. Pure warriors sacrificed themselves one after another, and obituaries came in