The Primarchs each had their own personalities and styles of warfare. Just as Perturabo excelled at crushing everything with heavy firepower and barrages, his other brothers each had their own distinctive traits.
Yet those traits looked similar in broad terms, differing only slightly in the finer details.
In the Primarchs' own words, the form was there, but the bones were still different.
When Perturabo and Warmaster Horus raised their banners in rebellion against the Emperor, the Warmaster did his utmost to avoid having Perturabo fight the other Legions that excelled at concealment and guerrilla warfare.
For example, Jaghatai Khan's White Scars and Corax's Raven Guard.
Perturabo knew that his preferred methods of war were not suited to dealing with those two brothers. Khan would delay his march on Terra through guerrilla warfare.
Corax's covert assaults would likewise inflict unnecessary losses upon his Legion.
Perturabo refused to admit it aloud, but he silently accepted the Warmaster's arrangements. The task of dealing with Corax was better left to Alpharius and the Night Lords.
"You really are... interesting..." Perturabo swept his gaze around, focusing on the shadows whose outlines could not be seen.
So had Corax's genes awakened just now? Or had that gloomy bastard manifested himself?
Perturabo did not ponder the matter for long. The Carcharodons Chaplain appeared from a blind spot in his vision, his weapon swinging once more at Perturabo's waist, striking the very spot he had attacked before.
Perturabo took another blow to the waist. Watching him get hit twice, Lin Fan could not help shouting.
"Stop pretending. Let's finish this quickly and go check the ship next door. Pull your hands out already, and quit obsessing over that crippled leg of yours."
"Shut up!" Perturabo snapped irritably at Lin Fan, while wondering what the hell a crippled leg