You Have Nothing Left
The voice of the Slaaneshi Daemon, like the sweetest mead mixed with the soft rustling of glass, echoed directly in Moloc's mind:
"Look at you, panting so hard... do you still have the strength?"
If you're tired, why not kneel down and put down those cold iron blocks?
Its extra arm lightly brushed against the blade of its own sword, a provocative gesture.
"Your body... though rough, is tall and strong."
I would be happy to take you on an experience of ultimate Pleasure as a reward for your valiant performance.
Its voice suddenly turned low and dangerous, carrying a bone-chilling coldness, "At the peak of ecstasy, I will gently peel off your ribs and pull out your trembling tendons..."
With your bones and blood, forge a unique harp, and offer the most beautiful lament to the Dark Prince.
Isn't that more 'artistic value' than turning you into a cold, broken tin can?
Moloc paused for a moment, then a heavy, hoarse, almost mocking breath came from beneath his helmet.
If I had to choose...
He gripped the Black Spear tightly, his knuckles cracking as he clenched the Power Fist. "I'd rather they stuff me into the coffin of Dreadnought right now."
As for my body—"
He suddenly looked up, his single remaining eye locking onto the demon through the eyepiece:
"You're not worthy!"
Before he could finish speaking, Moloc moved!
Instead of retreating, he poured all the last bit of strength he had squeezed out of his body into his legs!
The heavy Power Armour unleashed unprecedented speed, and like an ancient bull driven to the brink of despair, it launched a desperate charge towards the elegant demon!
He gripped the Black Spear "Citybreaker" tightly with both hands, its tip gathering an unprecedented, blinding white-hot force field that tore through the air, emitting a shrill shriek, and pierced straight at the Slaaneshi Daemon's seemingly soft abdomen!
This strike abandons all frills, focusing solely on pure speed, power, and the will to destroy!
It was a legendary warrior's final gamble, risking his life and his pride!
For the first time, the ever-present, mocking, and gleeful smile on Slaaneshi Daemon's face froze slightly.
It figured it out.
It cannot withstand this blow head-on.
The ultimate thrust of a legendary warrior, burning with the embers of his life, will, and even soul, contains a devastating force and destructive power that far exceeds the capacity of his body, which is not yet Greater Daemon, to easily neutralize.
But why accept it?
A glint of cunning and cruelty flashed in its eyes.
Just as the Black Spear was about to reach him, one of the Slaaneshi Daemon's long arms shot out with lightning speed, not to block the spear tip, but to grab it in mid-air!
Psionic Energy surged, and not far away, a small Slaanesh Daemonette locked in combat with a Tauren warrior.
As if pulled by invisible threads, she screamed and was dragged through the air, landing right in front of Moloc's Black Spear!
Pfft--!
The Black Spear, imbued with all of Moloc's power, pierced the chest of the unfortunate Daemonette without any resistance.
The force field erupted, Daemonette could even finish its scream, it vanished in a burst of brilliant yet malevolent light.
Moloc's charge came to an abrupt halt.
He gripped the spear that had pierced the demon, and for a moment he was somewhat bewildered.
The burning will and the courage to die did not meet with a solid defense or a more powerful counterattack, but with such despicable yet efficient exploitation and sacrifice.
"Oh..."
Exhaustion, despair, and a sense of absurdity of being played a trick on me washed over me.
He forgot that this was not a duel of honor, not a fair fight in the arena.
This is Chaos battlefield, and before you are the creations of Slaanesh —deception, trickery, and the exploitation of everything available to achieve their goals are their true nature.
His blood, which had been boiling with the heat of facing death, cooled rapidly at that moment, replaced by a deeper chill.
"Looks like your 'last dance' wasn't very successful~"
The Slaaneshi Daemon chuckled, gracefully shifting its hooves as it closed in instantly.
Its arms, which transformed into sharp blades, and the two auxiliary arms on its back, combined to form a dazzling display of purple light that enveloped Moloc!
Moloc roared, forcefully pulling back his spear to parry and swinging his shield left and right.
However, with his strength completely depleted, his movements inevitably became sluggish.
Click!
A crisp sound!
The Slaaneshi Daemon seized the tiny opening left by the Black Spear 'Black Spear parry and struck the shaft with pinpoint accuracy!
The ancient and incredibly sturdy obsidian spear shaft was actually severed by a blade imbued with Slaanesh Psionic Energy!
As the broken spear flew from his hand, several bursts of blood erupted from Moloc's body!
The Slaaneshi Daemon's blade swept across his shoulder armor, leg armor, and flanks... The heavy Ceramite and Plasteel plates of his Power Armour finally reached their defensive limit under the continuous slashes of the opponent's Psionic Energy blade.
Unless it's the legendary "Auramite" armor of the Adeptus Custodes, the Imperium's standard Power Armour would have difficulty withstanding such a high-intensity, point-targeted Psionic Energy strike for an extended period.
The wound wasn't deep, but the intense pain and blood loss accelerated his weakening.
Still struggling?
So cute.
The Slaaneshi Daemon spoke flippantly, and one of his legs, resembling that of a human woman, delivered a powerful and swift kick to Moloc's chest!
Bang!!!
Moloc felt as if he had been hit head-on by a battering ram.
He was sent flying backwards, his chest armor making a sickeningly loud creaking sound, and at least two ribs cracking clearly.
Blood welled up in his mouth and surged onto the inner wall of his armor, instantly obscuring his vision with darkness and the sight of stars.
it's over.
The thought emerged with perfect clarity.
He could feel his last bit of strength and consciousness dissipating completely with that kick.
My body was thrown backward through the air uncontrollably, with the whistling wind and distant sounds of battle filling my ears.
He would crash into the half-collapsed, scorched wall behind him, making a dent, and then slide to the ground like a bag of tattered trash.
The Power Armour might remain largely intact, but his body, which has lived for tens of thousands of years, will rapidly lose temperature inside, his blood will congeal, and his muscles will stiffen.
Ultimately, in some forgotten corner, like countless Hive City, it slowly rotted away.
Only a skeleton encased in cold metal remains, waiting to be buried by the dust of time.
How... insignificant.
Compared to his millennia-long life, his ambition to build Chapter, and his deepest, even unacknowledged, pursuit of a certain answer, how... laughable and pathetic this ending is.
In the hazy state of consciousness, time seemed to stretch out.
He seemed to see the scene from ten thousand years ago again, when he was young, had just undergone the transformation of the Thunder Warriors, was powerful and irritable, yet held a twisted awe for the being that gave him power.
He had glimpsed that light from a great distance, on the edge of a victory celebration.
Emperor.
What a sacred, how majestic, how... cold radiance it was!