Private Grudges Between Primarchs!

Hiss, hiss, hiss—

After Fulgrim, whose movements and attacks were incomparably swift, worked in close coordination with the Silver Skulls,

and used combat prowess far beyond that of ordinary Astartes to swiftly clear out the large number of Death Guard within his Helmet Visor's view,

everyone, without any chance to catch their breath, quickly lowered their heads to inspect the weapons and equipment they carried.

They gripped the melee weapons in their palms, slick with foul-smelling mucus, and swiftly followed Fulgrim's advancing steps as they charged toward the bridge.

Not long afterward, after several battles, Fulgrim and the others successfully broke through the bridge entrance, yet before they could wipe out the Chaos Sorcerers and Death Guard inside,

a deep voice from the bridge's projection device rang in everyone's ears!

"Heh heh, Twenty-Two, it has been a long time..."

In an instant, a hulking giant resembling a sentient moth appeared within Fulgrim's Helmet Visor, with a pair of enormous, tattered scaled wings flapping behind its back and pale armor constantly emanating an aura of decay covering its massive body.

"Hm? Your size and aura are wrong. You are not that Twenty-Two bastard who deserves to be cut into a thousand pieces!"

"It is you? Fulgrim? Impossible! Haven't you ascended to daemonhood? How could you return to...'s service!"

At that moment, Mortarion, the Daemon Primarch who had intended to display a regal majesty, instantly lost his composure.

He violently shook his pale face, most of which was covered by a Breathing Mask.

His pair of cold, venomous eyes seemed to pierce through the projection device as they fixed themselves upon the purple figure waving the Sonic Sword back and forth!

Splat!

The sharp Sonic Sword, wrapped in an ear-piercing, low hum,

pierced through the Metal Helmets of several Death Guard like