Serious Business

Sevatar, with a stern face, raised his hands so that the Servitor of the War Hounds could apply oil to him.

Duel cages are common in all Legiones Astartes, and they come in various forms: armored, unarmored, unarmed, and even allowing live ammunition.

Some scholars have published several books on these topics, but unfortunately, they are either too exaggerated or too vague, and no one has truly grasped the complexities of these cultures.

However, in Sevatar's view, the dueling cage was merely a channel for the Astartes to vent their excess energy.

Whether or not you apply oil is completely irrelevant. Does applying oil add a touch of honor? Similarly, fighting in a duel pit or in a duel cage is the same.

But this time is different.

This time--

He turned his head and glanced at the two giants standing behind him.

One man had skin the color of bone ash, and deep, dark eyes, as black as a weathered tombstone. The other man had bronze skin, was tall and strong, and exuded a bold and valiant air without doing anything.

At that moment, they were all looking at him. The former smiled at him encouragingly, while the latter, his facial muscles twitching, greeted Sevatar with a less friendly smile.

The captain of the first squad sighed, turned his head back, and resignedly craned his neck to make the Servitor move faster. Their cold Iron Hands were busy, and the surroundings were quite noisy.

As night fell, Night Lords and War Hounds mingled together, cheering for their respective allies. It's worth noting that not all Night Lords supported Sevatar —just as not all War Hounds supported Sevatar's opponents.

His opponent was Kharn, the company commander of the Eighth Company of the War Hounds.

Sevatar stared at him, observing the scars on his body, and began to ponder where she should begin.

He didn't need to look down to examine himself; his body was no better than that of a warrior like Kharn, covered in scars. His opponent was also looking at him, his eyes calm.

Sevatar didn't particularly like this calm.

His opponents have always been varied in their emotions, and few have faced him with complete calm. The last person to do so was Sigismund, Sevatar disliked.

To put it simply, if Sevatar had to choose someone outside the Legion to fight alongside, he would choose Sigismund. But he didn't like him.

Half a minute later, the Servitor finished their work. Sevatar looked down at the weapon rack in front of him and casually picked up a Chainsword.

He disliked using swords, but that didn't mean he wasn't skilled at it. His opponent, on the other hand, carried a short Chainaxe, not the two-handed greatsword he had imagined. Sevatar, weapon in hand, strolled with his opponent into the makeshift earthen pit.

The daytime battle was over, and it was already night; they should have been enjoying a hard-won rest.

Sevatar pursed his lips and took a deep breath. His senses were instantly elevated to a new level; the crackling sound of Orks corpses burning nearby reached his ears.

He casually brandished the sword, not activating it, but simply spinning his arms and wrists in a fancy manner, his steps light and agile.

He didn't intend to attack first, and coincidentally, his opponent seemed to think the same way.

"Aren't you planning to attack first?" Sevatar asked.

"No." The company commander, named Kharn, shook his head, his voice very calm. He didn't say another word.

Sevatar bared his teeth, his oiled skin reflecting an ominous, pale light under the lamp. He continued to twirl his wrists and pace in the mud.

"I heard you asked to fight me?" Sevatar asked tentatively—he obviously didn't know whether Kharn had asked for it.

He was merely guessing based on Angron's words. If it could even have a slight effect on disrupting Kharn's mind, he would have made a huge profit.

Yes, Sevatar is not opposed to using this strategy; in fact, he likes this tactic.

"No," Kharn said. "I'd only come here to fight a Midnight Blade on a night when I'm fighting Orks if I had nothing better to do. Besides, I've never liked these kinds of duels. It's just combat training."

Sevatar smiled; he agreed with Kharn's words. Moreover, there was a subtle hint of praise for his legion in those words. He wouldn't accept praise from Kharn if it were directed at him alone, but when it came to the legion...

That's a different matter altogether.

"What a coincidence, me too." Sevatar rarely spoke her mind to a stranger. "I didn't want to fight a member of the War Hounds so late at night either. So?"

"So let's finish this as soon as possible," Kharn said.

The next second, he moved. Sevatar saw a flash of light, his skin trembled, and a sudden gust of wind accompanied the roar of the Chainaxe. Sevatar frowned, parrying with his sword while skillfully retaliating verbally with his opponent.

I thought you didn't like this.

As Kharn continued hacking at his sword, he replied, "What is it?"

What do you think?

"I think you talk too much." Kharn chuckled deeply. "Bring it on, there's no turning back now."

Sevatar sighed.

"Okay," he said, deliberately in a flippant tone.

--

Karyl crossed his arms and shook his head, watching the battle in the duel pit. Angron, on the other hand, seemed somewhat interested, a smile playing on his lips in his azure eyes. He turned his head, pointed at Kharn in the sandpit with his thumb, and smiled proudly.

"He's not bad, is he?" the Nuceria asked.

"He's far more experienced than Sevatar, Angron. He's Terra veteran, and besides, I've known Kharn for a long time. Your boastful attitude leaves me somewhat at a loss for words," Karyl replied, half-laughing and half-crying.

"That's what Kharn said too," the gladiator from Nuceria shrugged. "He didn't understand why I insisted on arranging a duel at this time. Actually, I just wanted them to get to know each other quickly. A evenly matched duel always fosters friendship between the two legions."

"I don't think it's that simple," Karyl asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes." Angron nodded, readily admitting his selfish motives.

"You don't know Karyl, but Sigismund of the Imperial Fists has made quite a name for himself these past few years. Rumor has it that only one person has fought him to a draw, and he mentions this person to everyone he meets. Of course, I'm curious about Jago Sevatarion."

Karyl was silent for a moment, then began to feel a little worried about Sevatar's future.

So, who do you think will win?

Angron's expression turned serious. He gazed thoughtfully at the two wrestling figures in the mud pit, and after observing them for a while, he gave his answer.

"It's hard to say." He frowned, his expression surprisingly serious.

"Kharn usually doesn't like dueling pits and rarely participates; this is the most enthusiastic I've ever seen him. And Jago Sevatarion is very talented; combat requires both experience and talent, and he has both. How exactly did you train him?"

Karyl smiled, and many images flashed before his eyes.

"Simple. Just keep beating him," Karyl said. "In fact, it's best to do it every day."

Angron paused for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter. As he laughed, he reached out and put his arm around Karyl's shoulder.

Your sense of humor is getting better and better!

"Really?" Karyl raised an eyebrow. "I have a few jokes I'd like to hear?"

"That won't be necessary." Angron shook his head with a smile, and, seeing Karyl's regretful expression, brought up another matter.

"Let's get down to business. There's always time for jokes. I want War Hounds and Night Lords to cooperate on the matter of suppressing the rebellion."

He made a gesture, his expression turning serious. The years of war had clearly changed him; the former Nuceria gladiator could now speak rationally about war and conquest.

Karyl frowned. "Another rebellion? In the Segmentum Pacificus?"

"Yes," Angron answered slowly. "Most of the Planetary Governor who are promoted quickly become the most corrupt versions of themselves within a few years, and some even develop greater ambitions as a result."

"That's what happened to Cappadocia. My scouting fleet discovered them, and they intended to land on a nearby satellite for resupply. But they were attacked just as they approached orbit, and one of my captains even lost half his life."

The Primarch of the War Hounds scoffed. "They clearly don't care about the oaths they swore. It's been less than seven years since the Cappadocia declared their allegiance to the Imperium. I think they deserve a harsh lesson. What about you?"

"I'd be happy to have Night Lords join the fight," Karyl said. "But a single planet shouldn't be a match for the War Hounds, right?"

"That's the problem," Angron shook his head worriedly. "They don't just have one planet. In fact, the governor of Cappadocia has the influence of four nearby worlds."

"Heaven knows what conditions he promised to get them to join him. My expeditionary fleet can't possibly take down five planets in one go. Since you're nearby, I might as well just ask you to come and help me."

"I see." Karyl nodded. "So, Night Lords has joined—but before that, shall we make a bet?"

"What kind of bet?"

"Let's see who wins." Karyl smiled slightly. "I'm betting on Kharn."

Angron looked at him in surprise, and after a moment replied, "In that case, I'll bet on Sevatar."

They turned their heads together and looked into the duel pit.

I recommend a Warhammer novel, Warhammer: Imperial Navy Promotion Manual.