In the eyes of Olwen, this attack is very fast, in the eyes of Dimit, it is almost impossible to catch, and in the eyes of Rogal Dorn, it is so slow that it makes people sleepy.
"Let's go, kid. We have nothing to do here. Perturabo will take care of his problem." Rogal Dorn turned and left, Helbrecht and other champion swordsmen followed closely behind him.
Click! Bang!
The halberd and ax was broken by Perturabo, and the demon inside would leave a permanent lumbar disc herniation. Drau was kicked out by Perturabo, and he hit the carriage hard.
Perturabo knelt down on one knee next to the dying Drau, and held Drau up with one hand, "Are you still conscious?"
Drau struggled to open his eyes, vomiting blood and grinning, "This is what it feels like... this hard kick."
Perturabo shook his head, "I have never kicked you. None of the descendants I have kicked can stand in front of me intact."
"You kicked my captain."
"Because of what?"
"Because he slowed down the mixing of the high-speed concrete, which reduced the intensity by 0.003%. He was looking at you and was a little distracted. You came up and kicked him, and my captain flew up and knocked us all to the ground."
"What happened next?"
"We don't have Dreadnought, he's dead."
"I... I'm sorry, that won't happen now."
Drau, who had been calm just now, suddenly became excited. He forced his body and tried to get closer to Perturabo, "Don't say sorry! There is no apology in the creed of steel!" Then Drau gasped weakly and lay weakly on Perturabo's hand. Only the sound of intermittent breathing could be heard.
Perturabo was silent for a long time, and then he heard Drau's voice again.
"Have I lived up to your expectations, Father?"
"You did a good job." Perturabo lowered his voice, which seemed extremely weak on the battlefield with constant artillery fire, but it was so loud in Drau's ears.
It seemed that such words could not reassure Drau. Perturabo pointed at his cheek and said, "You left a wound on me with your halberd and axe. This is enough to prove you."
"Really?" Drau blinked, his pupils began to dilate, then he muttered a few words and called out the names of several people, some Perturabo knew him, and some Perturabo were unfamiliar.
Drau died in the hands of Perturabo. His death caused a great sense of sadness to arise in Perturabo's heart, which even affected other Iron Warriors on the battlefield.
Perturabo was heartbroken, and a teardrop fell to the ground along his cheek. He knew that Drau's disobedience was by no means an exception. Iron Warriors had sunk in the shadow of Perturabo for too long. It had been too long. Now he finally understood what Lin Fan said to him: It was not that Iron Warriors was not worthy of Perturabo, but that Perturabo was not worthy of Iron Warriors.
These words can also be applied to Angron. When the Lord of the Red Sand chose to go to the opposite side of the Emperor, there were also soldiers loyal to the Emperor among his descendants. They tried their best to attack Angron, one after another, and Angron also tore them apart without mercy.
In the end, the Loyalty faction that attacked Angron was slaughtered, leaving only a few dying guys who could still speak. Angron was not angry at these heirs who had slightly injured him. Instead, he calmly and gently picked up his heirs and said with a smile, "You did a good job."
In the past, Perturabo despised Angron's hypocritical behavior, but now he feels the same way.
He put Drau's body down and waited quietly for a while. Soon he noticed that a demon was pulling Drau's soul away from the body.
Perturabo knew that Drau, as a recruit with ordinary qualifications, must have something unusual in his ability to grow all the way to Warsmith. Drau secretly sold his soul to the devil to gain power.
Wrapping his hands around Blackstone, adjusting the polarity, Perturabo pulled out a parasite-like demon with a big hand.
"We signed a contract! We signed a contract!"
Perturabo didn't care about the demon's cry. He tore the demon away casually and then quietly waited for Drau's soul to dissipate. He wanted the Emperor to take Drau back to Golden Throne, and then thought of Drau has been involved in burning, killing, and looting for more than 10,000 years under his command. He felt that it was unfair for others that Drau's soul was taken into Golden Throne, and he also felt that Drau's current state had a lot to do with him.
Perturabo thought for a while, but still did not send a request to the Emperor. Drau's soul dissipated and dissolved in the unknown corner of Warp, waiting to be discovered by the devil.
Perturabo decided that he would find all the souls of Iron Warriors back, even if it took him tens of millions of years to do it.
Perturabo stood up, and ten Lamenters Terminators knelt down to him. The blood of Perturabo was flowing in their bodies, and they all felt a lot of Primarchs's pain.
"Are you willing to help my incompetent father?"
"Wherever you go, we will go."
Perturabo helped Lamenters Terminators up one by one, and then asked them to assemble the wide-area sound array equipment.
Olwen and Dimit on the side had long been dumbfounded and couldn't think straight. When the buzz of Lamenters Terminators's construction came, Olwen asked with trembling lips, "You... are you Primarchs? That giant... is also Primarchs?"
Perturabo glanced at Olwen and did not answer him. He just took the communicator from Lamenters Terminators, and then sent a message to the entire Cadia and the void.
"This is Perturabo, IV Legion Primarch of Iron Warriors, the fourth son of the Emperor. I have returned to Imperium, and I hereby send this message to all Iron Warriors who participated in 13th Black Crusade and who did not participate in 13th Black Crusade Please, please put aside the hatred and anger of the past and join me in the front of Imperium. I know this is a crazy and irrational suggestion, but I will stand here, standing on the land of Cadia, waiting for you, I will answer all your questions, and I will also give you the opportunity to choose."
The sound swept across the entire battlefield, and before Imperium and Chaos could react, another voice sounded immediately.
"This is Primarch of Rogge. Rogal Dorn, Imperial Fists, Black Templars, Crimson Fists. Because I have not seen and verified the purity of the sub-group under it, Gene-seed, so I use a cautious wording to send you a message."