Weapons of the Old Ones

"Are you going to betray our father again?"

Ferrus held the Flame Sword he had personally forged for Fulgrim and asked in a low voice,

Clearly, that child's corpse was trying to attack his mind this way.

"You may not understand. If that one claims the Divine Seat of Vicious Artistry by Its methods, the pressure on our father will suddenly double."

"If He cannot endure it, the Dark King will be born and personally destroy this galaxy He cherishes."

Ferrus's voice was exactly the same as it had once been, making Fulgrim's body tremble slightly for an instant.

But the purple phoenix's clone gritted his teeth. "I believe in my father. The Master of Mankind will never fall."

"He has already fallen once, because of you—"

Before Ferrus could finish speaking, Fulgrim had already charged before him with the Forgebreaker Warhammer in hand.

"Bastard, if you dare say another word in Ferrus's voice, I will show you what pain truly is!"

Fulgrim's face twisted. Combined with the three scars he had carved into it himself, he looked as terrifying as a gorgon.

A flicker of astonishment crossed Ferrus's face.

This situation was somewhat beyond his expectations.

How had it turned out like this?

When Fulgrim faced Ferrus, should he not have been too timid to strike, just as Perturabo had been when facing his mechanical sister?

Dragonwood Star had clearly used psychological tactics similar to Zhou Yun's, yet the results seemed rather different.

This annoyed Dragonwood Star. Recreating Ferrus and Leman Russ from Spacetime had already cost him dearly, and the longer he maintained their existence, the greater the drain became. The greater the drain here, the slower Dragonwood Star's journey to the Vault of the Old Ones would be.

But at this point, there was no way to