The Night Haunter?

Chapter 477: The Night Haunter?

The world was never short of beauty; it was only short of eyes that could see it.

As the ultimate product of the Warp and the Imperium's biotechnology, the Primarchs had always been rather mystical beings, because they simply weren't scientific.

Take Angron, Lord of Exterminatus. From the moment he emerged from the womb—or rather, the Amniotic Tank—he could knock down the Knife-ears who had come to hunt him because of a prophecy with nothing but a rock. A freaking rock!

And when Curze descended upon Nox, his gestation pod smashed through the crust, then clawed its way out of an underground world filled with lava and toxic fumes. He grew to adulthood on nothing but rats.

There were countless examples like these. The Primarchs were tougher than cockroaches, their combat prowess utterly astonishing, and their bodies radiated a terrifying, supreme ambition.

Unlike the Angels of Death in the eyes of ordinary people, Space Marines were just punching bags when they faced the Adeptus Custodes. Aside from a few famous names, such as Warmaster Abaddon the Despoiler, most of them were the sort who got killed in a single move.

But if you sent the Adeptus Custodes to fight a Greater Daemon, you'd find the tables turned. Greater Daemons cut through Custodians like they were chopping vegetables; it was hardly any harder than tearing Kun Kun apart by hand. After all, the Custodians were mass-produced too, and couldn't compare with Greater Daemons, each of whom was one of a kind and held their value.

But bring out the Primarchs, most of whom had undergone a second evolution by now, and Greater Daemons started looking less impressive. Even Guilliman, who wasn't much of a fighter, could strangle a Greater Daemon to death with his sturdy physique.