Friends Come from Afar—Is That Not a Joy?

A malicious smile twisted across Tzeentch's daemon's ever-shifting face as it looked at Guilliman:

"Primarch returned from ten thousand years ago... do you see this chaotic, despairing universe now?

Hahaha! This is all the work of Chaos, the eternal feast we desire!

You... no longer have the strength to change any of this!

Look at you. So powerless, so furious. Yet you cannot even truly 'kill' me!

Pure as you are, how will you vent this impotent rage? How pitiful..."

The Ultramarines nearby burned with fury at its words.

A vile Warp fiend actually dared to mock their genetic father like this?!

It was like lighting a lantern in a latrine—asking for shit, or rather, death!

"Primarch! Let me purify it with psychic power right now!"

Landros, who had only just recovered, stepped forward with a murderous expression, psychic energy dancing at his fingertips.

He was truly enraged. This damned daemon had not only exploited his weakness in an attempt to corrupt him.

Whatever it did to him was one thing; there were some debts they could settle slowly.

But how dare it insult his father?!

This Warp daemon had chosen death!

"Hahaha! Come on! Come on, you foolish Ultramarines! Come 'kill' me!"

The Tzeentch daemon laughed wildly and fearlessly. "I will soon be reborn from the tides of the Warp anyway!

I will forever be the nightmare haunting your hearts!

And you, Primarch, will never gain any honor by 'killing' trash like me!

Your anger is meaningless!"

"As expected of something spawned by Tzeentch. Your mouth really is foul." Guilliman finally spoke, his tone calm and unreadable.

Seeing Guilliman respond, the daemon grew even smugger and prepared to continue its feast of mockery.

Yet Guilliman merely scratched his head helplessly, as though looking at a pitiful creature with incomplete intellectual development.

This really is one of Tzeentch's daemons. Its tongue is sharp enough, but its brain... doesn't seem very bright.

It keeps repeating, 'You can't kill me'... Does it not know the Emperor's big sword is sitting in my room?

What he thought of was the Emperor's Sword, brought by the Living Saint Celestine, blazing with the Emperor's psychic flames!

More commonly known as the Erasure Sword!

One of that sword's greatest properties was its ability to permanently and completely annihilate the essence of Warp daemons!

Although its surface radiated the same flashy golden effects as the Emperor.

The source of its power was still the black sun within the Warp, symbolizing ultimate destruction and death!

"You know, you."

Guilliman weighed the daemon in his hand as if weighing a slab of pork.

"I originally wanted to let you go a little more peacefully, but why did you have to be so foul-mouthed?"

As he spoke, he flung the Tzeentch daemon onto the hard floor with a bang, like tossing out trash.

"Since your mouth is so foul, then if I don't beat you up, that should suit you just fine, right?"

Guilliman rolled his wrists, revealing that signature "kind and amiable" smile.

"That's the good thing about me—I like respecting other people's wishes!"

"Hmph! We Warp daemons are formless, intangible beings of energy!"

Though the daemon had been thrown into a daze, it remained defiant.

"Especially Tzeentch daemons like us, who have mastered countless Warp spells for evading harm!

You cannot make me feel pain, Primarch!

At most, you can disperse this temporary vessel of mine and banish me back into the Warp!"

"Is that so?" Guilliman tilted his head, his smile growing brighter. "Not necessarily."

The fact that he had just reached through a rift in reality with his bare hands and dragged this thing out.

Already proved that the idealistic power of Vitruum's Smart Atoms could indeed directly affect the Warp!

So what would happen if he used a fist containing the same power of Smart Atoms to punch a Warp daemon?

As Guilliman clenched his fist, that sandbag-sized fist, glinting with nearly imperceptible golden streams of light, slowly approached it.

The Tzeentch daemon sprawled carelessly on the ground, even deliberately striking a more punchable pose.

It wanted to see this Primarch fly into a rage when he failed to cause it any real harm!

The fist drew closer and closer... and the arrogant grin on the daemon's face grew wider and wider...

Until that heavy punch, carrying the overbearing power of Smart Atoms.

Slammed squarely, plainly, and without flourish into its "abdomen," which was formed from pure psychic energy!

"AAOOOW—!!!"

A shriek utterly unlike anything a daemon should have been capable of producing, mixed with shock and extreme agony, burst from the Tzeentch daemon's mouth!

Pain! Indescribable pain!

A tremendous force that seemed capable of tearing apart the very essence of its soul pierced through all its psychic defenses and illusory form, smashing viciously into its "core"!

It felt like a mortal being hit head-on by a speeding Land Raider, every organ in its body knocked out of place!

This feeling was too strange!

Since its birth in the Warp, it had never experienced pain so definite, so physical!

Yet this sensation of pain was undeniably real!

By all rights, making it feel pain should have been impossible, but somehow not feeling pain now seemed equally impossible.

"No... impossible! Wh... why?!"

The daemon twisted and writhed, releasing broken psychic shrieks.

"Your fist... why can it make me feel pain?! This violates the laws!"

Guilliman did not answer immediately. Instead, he looked thoughtfully at his fist.

He had clearly felt it just now: the power of the Smart Atoms had indeed "struck" the essence of the daemon's spiritual body solidly, with remarkable results!

This power, born from the pinnacle of materialism yet touching upon idealistic realms, seemed to possess an innate and powerful "corrective" effect against the Warp's falsehoods.

I wonder whether beating it like this can completely 'beat it to death.'

Guilliman thought.

If it can, that would be perfect.

Although cutting things down with the Emperor's Sword looks cool.

When real men fight, though, it still has to be fist against flesh!

To find out the answer, the best method was—repeated experimentation!

Practice was the sole criterion for testing truth!

Fortunately, this Tzeentch daemon before him looked rather "sturdy." It should be able to withstand him trying a few more moves.

"Is it not a joy to learn and practice from time to time? When friends come from afar, is it not a delight?"

Guilliman suddenly recited an old Terra proverb in a bookish tone.

Even the Tzeentch daemon, which possessed countless forbidden secrets, had never heard these words from tens of thousands of years ago.

Tormented by both pain and curiosity, it instinctively asked through psychic power.

"Wh... what does that mean?!"

Guilliman gave it an incomparably "kind" smile and patiently explained.

"It means: when you learn new combat techniques through actual battle, shouldn't you be happy?

When a friend comes from afar and lets me beat him up, shouldn't I be delighted?"