Nimrod pressed the Runic Rune, and the Hand of Order gauntlet flared with golden light.
Boom!
The golden fist slammed into the heavy steel wall of Galatia's Main Foundry, blasting open a massive hole.
The blazing light of the furnaces shone through, falling across Nimrod's face and staining it crimson.
Crack!
Spiderweb cracks spread outward. Steel fragments pattered down.
Golden wings rose and swept forward, splitting open a fissure like razors.
Thud, thud—
More than a hundred Skitarii tumbled and fell.
The commander of the Dusk Raiders, Nathaniel Garro, gazed ahead. Lord Nimrod had broken through the walls of the Main Forge Temple in an instant.
He could not help thinking back to the course of the "Liberation of Drun," when his father had charged at an alien as vast as a Hive City, only to be pinned in place.
He had claimed that Nimrod had defeated the alien leader only by relying on Psionic Energy.
Nathaniel did not agree with his father's words. Lord Nimrod had twice defeated the Wolf King, and had also broken through Lord Ferrus's defenses.
Among the primarchs, few could match him.
No, perhaps none could match him.
Nathaniel watched the golden wings tremble as Lord Nimrod leaped into the city.
Cassati Nuang, who had completely abandoned his identity as one of the Night Lords, had painted his midnight-blue armor entirely black.
He followed in Lord Nimrod's footsteps, reaching out with both claws to hook them into the torn wall and climb upward.
Alternating his claws, Cassati vaulted onto the wall.
His pitch-black eyes swept over the Skitarii. They had not launched an attack against the enemy; their eyes followed the distant figure in black armor and golden wings.
Even the partly mechanized, even twisted Skitarii felt fear.
Cassati suddenly felt a sense of familiarity.