Come at Me!
A faint light flashed beneath his feet from the Smart Atoms, and he swiftly retreated.
At the same time, "Loyalist's Glory" unleashed a series of precise sword strikes.
It wasn't to injure the enemy, but rather to continuously weaken and deflect the trajectory and power of the giant axe's downward strike.
Even with his power surged and he further improved his strength through training, he still couldn't compete with the Daemon Primarch power.
At times like these, one must learn to play to one's strengths and avoid one's weaknesses. What makes him stronger Angron is his combat skills, honed over a millennium.
This isn't something you can obtain by randomly hacking and slashing in a rage.
Like a petrel in a storm, he skillfully maneuvered against the pure storm of power with exquisite technique and enhanced speed.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Angron's every attack missed its mark, leaving huge craters on the ground and turning the ruins to dust.
Why! Why! Why!?
His rage intensified as his attacks missed, his roars were deafening, and his offensive became increasingly frenzied!
He couldn't understand what was going on with this Ultramarines. Had Space Marines advanced to this extent by now?
Why can they fly freely like angels from ten thousand years ago?
Even more agile than angels!
The reason why Sanguinius was able to become one of the top combatants among the Primarch, a T0 Primarch existence, is because he could fly!
The ability to fly freely greatly enhances battlefield mobility and control over the battle situation.
This is how Angron feels when facing Calgar; the guy always manages to escape his attack range at just the right moment.
Even if they manage to attack, they'll find that the guy in front of them is much stronger than a regular Space Marines, and they can even barely hold their own against him!
This both shocked and enraged Angron!
He desperately wanted to kill the person in front of him.
First, he wanted to prove his supreme power; second, the Butcher's Nails was starting to cause him increasing headaches.
Fighting cannot alleviate the pain of Butcher's Nails.
Only by completely killing a living being will Butcher's Nails alleviate the torment inflicted on Angron.
Angron's attacks became increasingly brutal; he even began to use Primarch- level techniques!
It will only kill the Ultramarines right in front of you!
But Calgar remained like a slippery fish, darting along the edge of a deadly storm of blades.
Occasionally, he would seize upon the slightest opening after the opponent's furious onslaught and strike their joints or gaps in their armor with Power Fist. Although this was unlikely to cause decisive damage, it was enough to enrage Angron even more.
Just as Angron descended upon Terra and engaged in an earth-shattering chase with Calgar.
Above low Earth orbit, the massive "Macragge's Honour" floats like a silent guardian, detached from the flames of war.
Deep within the bridge, in a room converted into a temporary Psionic Energy sanctuary, Magnus was carrying out an equally crucial, yet silent, task.
His massive Psionic Energy body sat upright in the center of a complex magic array, his single remaining eye closed and his brows slightly furrowed.
The powerful spiritual senses, like an invisible net, meticulously scanned and caressed every inch of the turbulent Warp structure surrounding Terra, with the warship at its core.
He "saw" Angron's incomparably violent Psionic Energy signal, as blinding as a torch in filthy blood, crashing into reality through a forcibly opened rift.
"Angron... you've joined the battle too?"
"Indeed. Mortarion is gone, Fulgrim's soul was torn apart by Guilliman, and I was captured and returned to the Imperium of Man. Of the Four Gods, you are the only one they can use."
Magnus muttered to himself, his single eye opening a crack, a complex emotion flashing across it—warning, disgust, and a hint of...pity?
"The Four Gods will throw you in like a battering ram... no surprise at all."
But soon, this emotion was replaced by reason.
Magnus's gaze seemed to pierce through the deck, landing on the land below, purified by blue flames and golden light.
He thought of the man who was recklessly displaying his power on Terra — Robert Guilliman.
"Ha... the Four Gods are still as foolish as ever."
Magnus chuckled softly, shook his head, closed his single eye again, and refocused his attention on his work.
Worried about Angron?
Perhaps we should worry, but that's from the perspective of others.
Regarding Guilliman now... Magnus recalled the brute force and unfathomable power with which the other party used his body to "fan" the Four Gods in the Warp.
He had no doubt that even if all nineteen Primarch, except for Roboute Guilliman, were gathered on Terra at their peak and challenged Guilliman side by side...
That blue-armored giant could probably slaughter everyone before his power ran out.
This realization strangely gave Magnus a bizarre sense of security.
"Terra doesn't need another 'warrior' like me."
He said to himself, and gently Force Staff in his hand, which was inlaid with the Eye of Knowledge, on the ground.
The moment the tip of the staff touched the floor, a vast expanse of Psionic Energy, as dazzling as a rainbow yet as pure as crystal, flowed into the hull of the Macragge's Honour like a guided galaxy.
Then, through pre-arranged ritual nodes, it flows gently yet firmly toward the torn wounds of the Warp surrounding Terra.
His job is multifaceted:
First, protection.
Those Space Marines who, inspired by Guilliman and fueled by their own passion, charged into the Warp Rift and wreaked havoc.
Their spiritual anchor needs to be strengthened to prevent them from getting completely lost in the Chaos waves of excessive immersion or killing.
Once they've had their fill of killing, Magnus will teleport them back to Terra before the Warp completely closes.
Magnus's Psionic Energy served as a lighthouse and a cable, providing them with faint guidance and connection.
Secondly, and more importantly—repair.
He wanted to combine his profound understanding of Warp structures with Guilliman's stable reality "domain" effect.
Slowly but surely, it mends those cracks that were forcibly torn open and are now seeping out Chaos.
This is not a simple matter of "plugging the leak," but rather a delicate, demanding, yet crucial project of re-weaving the boundary between reality and the virtual world.
The crimson giant sat silently in the steel sanctuary, a vast expanse of Psionic Energy flowing silently.
Like a skilled weaver, patiently mending a tear violently ripped open against the backdrop of the universe.
On the surface of Terra, the crimson and blue-gold storms continue to collide.
Calgar was very patient, or rather, he was extremely confident at that moment!
Guilliman was cleaning up demons elsewhere; he just needed to hold out for a few minutes until Guilliman arrived.
When the time comes, the old father will unleash a Five-Strike Lightning Whip attack, turning the demon in front of him into Warp fragments!
Furthermore, Calgar has a new assessment of Angron's combat capabilities.
The Primarch is nothing special; that's the mindset Calgar has right now.
The more Calgar fought Angron, the more he could feel the Smart Atoms within his body boiling!
The fighting power of the Viltrumites is actually quite idealistic; when your emotions fluctuate greatly, the activity of your Smart Atoms will be greatly enhanced!
Physical strength, defense, power, and speed all receive terrifying boosts.
Calgar is now incredibly confident! His fighting spirit is extremely high, which has resulted in his combat power exceeding his usual level by a significant margin!
Calgar: Come here!