In this universe, there were many ways to kill.
You could choose bolters, you could choose Lasguns, you could choose orbital bombardment or a tiny dose of poison. Everyone had their own unique way of putting others to death, but if the location was limited to space...
Boarding was an unavoidable process.
An officer in the Imperial Navy had once jokingly called boarding actions the greatest legacy The Emperor had bestowed upon mankind. Leaving aside who exactly had made him inexplicably disappear after he said that, and whether the word "legacy" had been used correctly, boarding actions were indeed quite good.
In fact, they were very good—good enough that even a Mage like He Shenyan felt a little tempted to take part.
I'm not joking. He really was picking out a melee weapon.
So, at this moment, the gathered Primarchs finally realized the severity of the problem.
There was nothing strange about a commander personally taking the field with a sword and hacking people apart. They were all commanders, and they had all charged into enemy ranks alone and slaughtered everything in sight. Apart from Roboute Guilliman, almost none of them had ever failed.
But He Shenyan was a Mage.
He took pride in his identity, and the power he displayed and the code of conduct he followed all fit the standard of a "Mage"—and now, this Mage was telling you that he intended to take a sword and go over there to chop that whole ship of Word Bearers to pieces.
What would you think?
Leman Russ's thought was: Fucking excellent.
"Captain, listen to me. Greatswords and axes are definitely better than those weak, flimsy one-handed swords. Trust me, you can't go wrong."
He grinned and said, "We have two hands. Wouldn't it be a colossal waste not to