Deep within Fang Castle lay a large Training Ground.
Wolf Rorschach, clad in black Master-crafted Power Armor, was engaged in an intense, experimental battle with the three-meter-tall Primarch Rorschach.
Rumble—
Terrifying collisions rang out one after another, echoing through the air.
At the edge of the Training Ground,
the Sons of Fenris, their eyes instinctively widened, held their breath as they watched the attacks exchanged between the two.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Upon the icy blue blades of the ornate Chainswords known as the Frost Blades,
sharp saw teeth fashioned from Fenrisian sea monster fangs continuously collided and interlocked, producing low, grating shrieks.
Although the Chainsword motors had not been activated,
the sharp teeth, capable of tearing through ceramite armor through sheer pulling force, remained extremely dangerous.
Yet at this moment, the three-meter-tall Primarch Rorschach wore only a specially made oversized suit of Scout Armor.
Expressionless, he fought Wolf Rorschach, who was baring his teeth unconsciously, with reaction speed and physical strength far beyond those of an ordinary Astartes. Their clash grew increasingly fierce.
Naturally, neither of them had chosen an aggressive style of trading injury for injury.
Instead, they competed in weapon technique through their respective combat experience and reaction speeds.
As time passed,
the whispering Sons of Fenris seemed to notice that Primarch Rorschach's stamina had not diminished in the slightest.
Even his advancing footwork and the way he wielded his melee weapon became increasingly nimble and ingenious.
Had any other Primarch been present, they would certainly have recognized
that Primarch Rorschach was using a combat technique clearly inclined toward Fulgrim's style.
"Stop, stop, stop—"
At that moment, Wolf Rorschach's eyelids twitched wildly as he could only watch a Frost Blade slice swiftly toward his neck from an exceptionally tricky angle.
Even though he wore Master-crafted Power Armor,
he