Ferrus selected the elite warriors of the Iron Hands and joined up with the Emperor's Children. Once again, he saw his brother.
"You don't look too well." Ferrus raised a brow. Fulgrim was a Primarch who cared greatly about his appearance. Even in the fiercest battles, he never forgot to tidy his hair. Yet now, Fulgrim looked utterly exhausted, with stray locks sticking up and dried blood covering his armor.
Fulgrim yawned and complained about the demons' singing, which kept luring his eyelids shut. Then he began speaking of the fighting over the past few days.
"I don't know what things are like on your end, but the demons' assaults here have been terrifying. Our defenses nearly fell several times. Luckily, I'm skilled enough to slaughter those disgusting hermaphroditic things." As Fulgrim spoke, he drew his sword. The flames coiling around the fireblade had visibly dimmed. "It's a pity that demon blood is too filthy. It's made this sword's flames less vigorous."
Less vigorous... that was putting it mildly, wasn't it?
Ferrus took a closer look and noticed a faint, eerie blue tint in the flames. Taking out the warhammer Fulgrim had made for him, he said, "There's nothing wrong with this hammer of yours. I used it to smash plenty of demon skulls."
"That just means your skill isn't good enough~" Fulgrim whistled and began poking fun at Ferrus.
Ferrus immediately defended himself. "This isn't a matter of skill. It's a matter of weapon construction. A warhammer is naturally more durable than a longsword."
"It's really just that your skill isn't good enough." Fulgrim ignored his excuses and continued with a smile. "Had I known this weapon would suffer some wear from killing so many enemies today, I should have competed with Vulkan back then. He definitely could have