Quan Tiehua did not keep running, even as the enemy closed in around him.
The damage to his power pack had left him in a desperate situation. He could only risk breaking through the enemies pursuing him from behind.
From the warband's communications, he learned that the commander and the remaining Battle-Brothers had already found the rally point.
They had also begun constructing fortifications there to hold back the pursuing enemies while covering the retreating brothers.
Since most of the pursuing enemies had been drawn here by Quan Tiehua, the pressure on the commander had eased considerably.
On top of that, the Genestealers assaulting their original defensive position were also tying down a large number of daemons of Khorne.
Therefore, there probably would not be too many enemies here for the time being.
After all, Quan Tiehua had only glanced at the number of Genestealers, yet he had already felt his scalp go numb.
The Genestealers they had encountered aboard the ship had numbered only a few hundred at most, and even that had seemed endless.
Of course, they had merely been packed together in the ship's narrow passageways, making them appear more numerous.
But how large was the hive city as a whole? Even the Planetary Governor might not know. The number of Genestealers here had probably already exceeded ten thousand.
It might even have reached several hundred thousand.
They might even have sent a signal to the Tyranid swarm.
The footsteps of the World Eaters drew closer. Based on his memory of the route he had taken, Quan Tiehua could tell exactly where they were.
They had not reached the trap yet. But he had to expose himself now.
That was because the Flesh Hounds were fast.
If he did not eliminate the Flesh Hounds first, his trap might be exposed.
With his agile body, he merely bent sideways and revealed half his head and the line of his gun. The instant a Flesh Hound poked out its head, a bolt round blew it into a spray of flesh.
After several more bolt rounds reduced the remaining Flesh Hounds to chunks, the muzzle of a World Eater appeared, aimed at his position.
After firing the final bolt round, ensuring that every Flesh Hound had been killed, Quan Tiehua immediately withdrew and threw out a flash-smoke grenade, shrouding the entire corridor.
He instantly dropped flat and crawled along the floor, quickly slipping past the corner and heading in the opposite direction.
Meanwhile, the World Eaters had all reached the center of the passage beyond the corner. Terrifying firepower tore through the smoke and streaked over Quan Tiehua's body.
The first World Eater to expose himself had suffered temporary blindness from the flash-smoke grenade. He stopped, covered his eyes, and retreated behind the other World Eaters for cover.
The fire continued without pause. The World Eaters advanced steadily in a neat line, firing as they went like the Iron Warriors.
Once they emerged from the smoke, the World Eaters nearest the walls immediately swung their guns around, aiming down the side passages to check whether any enemies were hiding around the bends.
The World Eater who had been blinded had already recovered. He shoved aside the World Eater blocking his way and glared angrily at the four empty corridors.
"Find him. Tear him apart."
"The Blood God wants him brought back intact."
Bang—
His power armour slammed into the metal wall. The World Eater who had been blinded roughly pinned the one who had contradicted him against it.
"You dare challenge me?"
As he spoke coldly, the Chainaxe in his hand roared to life. Its keen blade pressed close to the World Eater's neck.
"Hey." Suddenly, a teasing voice brimming with provocation interrupted the increasingly heated atmosphere.
All the World Eaters turned as one. Their target stood in the distance.
Quan Tiehua stood there with a boltgun in his hands. He had removed his helmet, and the arrogance and defiance on his face were unmistakable.
Then he gathered all his strength, even his body moving with the effort. "You bunch of—most despicable, lowly, insecure cowards and slaves."
The words were like a meteor crashing into the ocean, sending waves surging in every direction.
In the World Eaters' Legion, the Primarch Angron had been manipulated by the Four Gods during his childhood and cast into the void, eventually ending up on a planet where he became a gladiatorial slave.
They had also implanted him with the Butcher's Nails. Because the Butcher's Nails constantly stimulated his brain, only killing could bring him peace.
Later, he was recovered by the Emperor and led his own sons, the World Eaters Legion. All the Astartes of the World Eaters Legion followed their great father's example and implanted themselves with the so-called Butcher's Nails.
The result was that they became extremely aggressive and belligerent. Angron also established harsh regulations among them.
A day on his original planet lasted thirty-one hours. Therefore, after taking command of the Legion, he decreed that every battle had to be won within thirty-one hours. If victory was achieved only in the thirty-second hour, the entire unit would receive severe punishment.
That punishment was forcing his sons to slaughter one another. On top of that, Angron's nerves sometimes collapsed under the torment of the Butcher's Nails. When the pain reached its peak, he would even kill his own sons to ease it.
As a result, the entire Twelfth Legion was remarkably small in both numbers and size. To maintain the Legion's strength, they began capturing slaves they took a fancy to, forcibly modifying and indoctrinating them. During the process, countless slaves were tortured to death, whether the modification surgery succeeded or failed, by the Butcher's Nails or the procedures themselves.
Thus, the Twelfth Legion, the World Eaters, could truly be called a legion of slaves through and through.
"Ahhhhh!" In an instant, the eyes of the World Eaters turned scarlet, and the Chainaxes and Chainswords in their hands roared.
Khorne watched this scene from the void. Although he felt excited, he forcibly suppressed his emotions.
After all, he wanted them alive.
Just as he was about to personally relay the order, Quan Tiehua, standing in the passage, smiled confidently. His boltgun roared with flame, and a bolt round precisely passed through the gap between the World Eaters and struck a grenade beside a nearby pipe.
Boom—
The violent explosion blew open the pipe. A massive blast of high-pressure toxic gas sent the charging World Eaters staggering.
The shock wave from the explosion even blasted the nearest World Eater backward through the air.
Just as he climbed to his feet and prepared to charge again with his companions, who had also recovered, dense explosions erupted around them. Several Melt Bombs melted away half their bodies.
Quan Tiehua walked up to them and looked at the sole surviving World Eater, whose lower body had been melted away.
"Just as I thought, your Butcher's Nails really are made for cowards. You Astartes, slaves by birth and full of insecurity, have never understood true courage. You can only rely on external objects to stir up that false courage. What pathetic cowards. A pathetic Legion. And your pathetic Primarch—Angron."
The World Eater's lower body had been blown away, but the intense pain was masked by the nerves stimulated by the Butcher's Nails.
Especially after hearing those words, he roared even louder and tried to curse him out, but Quan Tiehua gave him no chance. The Chainsword swept across, cleaving off his head.
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