A slaver issued a threat.
It was this slaver's deal with The Emperor that made The Emperor abandon all his promises to Angron, as well as any attempt to save those slaves.
After all, a world full of slaves and countless resources, one capable of supporting the Great Crusade, was far more important than a mere tool of the Imperium.
Moreover, as one of the Imperium's pieces in its expeditionary campaign, he had to understand his mission. He had to understand that they, and he himself, were all among the Imperium's most vital components.
And now—
Angron had a chance to fight him. Though he had been gravely wounded and the slaves had suffered terrible casualties, he still had a chance to free them from this world, to redeem the people before him from the universe itself.
Angron discarded the shattered weapon in his hand. Driven by the Butcher's Nails, unarmed, he charged at the slaver he hated most with a slave's fists. Shielded by eighteen slave guards, the slaver's surroundings were practically an iron fortress.
No wonder The Emperor had acted directly back then. If he had not, Angron would most likely have died.
But here, it did not matter. Even if Angron died, he could be restored. He would not truly die. On the battlefield, Angron had suffered nearly fatal wounds. The injury across his chest had pierced and torn through him. An ordinary person would have died long ago from such wounds, but Angron seemed not to feel them as he charged ahead.
The slaves protecting and supporting the slaver before him were gripped by immense fear at the sight of Angron's fury. Warriors behind him continuously tore open gaps in the enemy ranks for him.
"Stop, Kaegrus!"
He remembered that noble perfectly. It was that man