Fulgrim's Sabathius Swordsmanship, 8th Legion

The Three Great Schools

The earth shook violently, and the Novalis people swayed on their feet.

One after another, they drove the swords they had forged into the ground to steady themselves.

Holy golden dawnlight illuminated the open ground between the warriors of the two kingdoms.

When the light faded, they were astonished to see that what had fallen from the sky was not a meteor, but a squad of giants clad in black armor.

Honor Guard Captain Joe Vattara looked at the towering back of the knight-lord. At the instant they fell, he felt no impact at all.

Warm dawnlight wrapped around him and the other members of the Honor Guard, bringing them down more smoothly than jump packs could have.

A scene from his homeland flashed through Joe's mind—the lava lakes of Ventrilian.

Lord Thierry, clad in a black robe, had walked through the molten lava flows of burning Astartes without suffering the slightest harm.

Lord Thierry's defense extended to shelter us.

As that thought crossed his mind, a dazzling gleam flashed in his eyes.

Joe immediately followed the light and scrutinized the weapons in their hands.

Every sword shone with a bright radiance. Unlike the gemstone glow of Ventrilian blades, this was a pure golden sheen.

Every blade was different in its own way. Some were slightly longer, some had broader, thicker grips...

Each sword perfectly matched the palm of its wielder, made to measure.

While Joe was thinking, a Librarian stepped out from the crowd.

The telepathic Psyker rose layer by layer into Magnus's fourth Mindset. A body of light formed from his spirit slipped free of his flesh and merged into the deep black fear and crimson battle intent around him.

Within the collective ocean of minds, he found the Novalis language closest to one