I'm Going to Chop You to Death
Lion's pupils suddenly contracted.
His body began to tremble.
That wasn't fear, nor sadness, but—anger.
Pure, intense, and all-consuming anger.
"Vashtorr --!!!"
The roar exploded in the void, in the hearts of everyone, and deep within the Warp.
The roar was so loud that it made the surrounding stars tremble.
The fury of the roar caused the Chaos warriors who were fighting to stop what they were doing and look in horror toward the source of the sound.
The terror of that roar sent a shiver down the spine of Vashtorr, who was far away on Dragon Spirit Star.
"How dare you—desecrate—my home planet—!!!"
Golden flames burned in Lion's eyes, flames more intense than the sun and more dazzling than stars.
His sword burned in his hand, his shield glowed on his arm, and his entire body was bursting with power enough to tear the universe apart.
"I'm going to... cut you down...!!!"
He took a step forward and leaped directly from the top of the warship, rushing towards Dragon Spirit Star.
But just then, a hand grabbed him.
Dante.
The Chapter Master of the Blood Angels stood behind him, his golden mask concealing a pair of eyes burning with the same fury.
"Grown ups!"
His voice was urgent, yet firm.
"Please let me go first!"
He turned around, raised his sword, and faced the endless void, the countless Chaos warriors locked in battle, and issued a command.
"Blood Angels - All troops, attack!"
At that moment, the void was stained red.
It wasn't the red of fresh blood, but the red of the Blood Angels armor.
Ten thousand red figures surged forth from the Sword of Truth, like burning meteors, like descending angels, like—messengers of Ynnead.
Their posture was exactly the same as when they were on the Ark of Omen —hands outstretched in front of them, legs together, bodies slightly leaning forward, gliding through the void at incredible speed.
They roared the battle cry that had become a tradition.
"For the Blood of Sanguinius!"
"Blood sacrifice to the God-Emperor, Guilliman!"
They charged into the Chaos Alliance.
Then—the massacre began.
A Blood Angels crashed head-on into a Chaos Landing Ship.
He didn't dodge or go around it; instead, he crashed straight into it.
The landing ship's armor was like paper in front of him; his body smashed a large hole through it.
He rushed into the ship, and three seconds later, the landing craft exploded from the inside, turning into a burning wreckage.
Ten Blood Angels charged into a group of Chaos Space Marines.
The Chaos Warriors didn't even have time to react before they were engulfed by the red whirlwind.
Ten seconds later, only severed limbs and blood remained on the spot.
One hundred Blood Angels besieged a Chaos Cruiser.
They darted wildly across the ship's hull, each sword strike leaving deep cracks in the armor, each impact tearing apart the giant vessel's structure.
Thirty seconds later, the cruiser began to disintegrate, and countless Chaos Warriors poured out of the ship, trying to escape, but the Blood Angels were faster than them—not a single one could escape.
A thousand Blood Angels charged directly at the Daemon Engine cluster.
Those mechanical behemoths that once drove the Dark Angels to despair are like toys in the face of the Blood Angels.
A Blood Angels seized the giant claw of a Helbrute and ripped it off.
Another Blood Angels shattered the core of a Destroyers engine with a single punch.
The third Blood Angels burrowed directly into the abdomen of a monstrous machine and blasted it to pieces from the inside.
Meanwhile, Dante, with his personal guards, was heading straight for the heart of the battlefield.
He saw the defeated Dark Angels, the warriors covered in blood, and Ezekiel fighting desperately.
With a single stroke of his sword, he cleaved a Chaos Warrior who was chasing Dark Angels in two, then reached out and supported the swaying Chief Librarian.
"Hold on."
His voice was calm, yet it contained power.
"Reinforcements have arrived."
Ezekiel raised his head, gazing at the red figures, at the Blood Angels who were slaughtering madly, and at that—hope.
A slight smile appeared on his lips.
That smile contained relief, gratitude, and a hint of disbelief.
"You..."
His voice was weak.
"How are you guys so strong...?"
Dante smiled slightly.
There was pride in that smile.
"Lord Guilliman gave us a small gift."
He said.
Then, he charged back into the battlefield.
Perturabo's gaze finally turned serious.
He stood there by the porthole on the bridge, watching the red figure raging in the void, watching the Chaos Alliance being slaughtered, watching the scene that completely overturned his understanding.
A Blood Angels just happened to fly past his porthole.
The red figure was incredibly fast, so fast that even Primarch like Perturabo could only catch a fleeting afterimage.
But where that afterimage passed, a Chaos Guardian was slowly disintegrating, and countless Chaos Warriors were floating in the void, their corpses bearing the same sword marks.
Perturabo's brow furrowed slightly.
"This is..."
He muttered to himself.
"Blood Angels?"
A hint of doubt flashed in his eyes.
He certainly knew about the Blood Angels.
Those were the offspring of Sanguinius, one of the more outstanding Chapter among the Gene-seed created by the Emperor.
But when did they become so strong?
That speed, that power, that destructive force—it was practically on par with the Adeptus Custodes.
A terrible thought flashed through Perturabo's mind.
Adeptus Custodes.
The Emperor's Imperial Adeptus Custodes —the strongest warriors in the Imperium of Man.
Each Adeptus Custodes is an elite force selected from among thousands, capable of confronting the Chaos Daemons head-on.
With proper coordination, dozens of Adeptus Custodes can even surround and kill a Primarch.
And right before our eyes—there are a full ten thousand.
Ten thousand Blood Angels whose strength is close to that of the Adeptus Custodes.
A bead of cold sweat appeared on Perturabo's forehead.
"How is this possible..."
He muttered to himself, a hint of disbelief in his voice.