To Hell with You!!!

Dorn can't bear it anymore.

His fist hit Perturabo hard on the face.

Perturabo was well prepared and dodged sideways while punching Dorn in the abdomen.

Dorn didn't hide, he received the punch forcefully, then grabbed Perturabo's collar and threw him out.

Perturabo hit the wall, making a deep dent in the solid alloy wall.

He slid down from the wall, touched the corner of his mouth, and found a trace of golden blood.

He smiled.

The smile was full of excitement, "Come on! Let me see if you will still have the same skills ten thousand years from now!"

Dorn didn't answer, just strode towards him.

Two Primarch started a crazy fight in that small cell.

No weapons, no tactics, no strategy.

There are only fists, only anger, and only ten thousand years of accumulated resentment.

Dorn's fist hit Perturabo's chest, and Perturabo's knee pressed against Dorn's abdomen.

Dorn's headbutt hit Perturabo's forehead, and Perturabo's elbow hit Dorn's back.

They beat from the cell to the corridor, from the corridor to the hall, and from the hall to the ground.

They knocked out a huge hole in the ground of the Imperial Palace.

Sunlight fell from the hole, illuminating the two figures fighting.

No one stopped me.

Adeptus Custodes stood in the distance, watching silently.

Their duty is to protect the palace, but at this moment, they don't know whether to intervene.

Two Primarch are fighting, can they stop them?

Besides, Master Guilliman said--

"Let them fight."

Can't be beaten to death."

Guilliman's voice came from behind, with a hint of laziness.

Adeptus Custodes turned their heads and saw Guilliman walking out of the palace.

He also held a piece of parchment in his hand, with comments densely written on it.

Behind him were Malcador, Sanguinius, Lion, Magnus, Angron, and even Tarasha.

Tarasha was supported by Sanguinius, looking at the two Primarch who were fighting each other crazily, with worry in his eyes. "They... will be okay?"

Guilliman smiled, "Don't worry, mother."

They can't be killed.

Imperium's treatment technology is quite advanced now, and as long as he still has a breath, he can be saved."

Tarasha wanted to say something else, but Guilliman had people bring in deck chairs, parasols, and a small table.

The table is filled with snacks, fruits, and drinks.

There were even a few attendants standing by, fanning them, pouring drinks, and passing towels.

Tarasha looked at this battle, a little dumbfounded. "You are..."

Guilliman lay on the recliner and stretched out comfortably. "Let's watch a show."

It's rare to see such a good show, and if you don't watch it, it will be in vain."

Malcador sat next to him, picked up a piece of snack, and took a bite. "Who do you think will win?"

Guilliman thought for a while, "Dorn has been trapped by Stasis Field for ten thousand years, and his body has not fully recovered."

Perturabo has been practicing in Eye of Terror for ten thousand years, and has been strengthened by the power of Chaos.

Theoretically, Perturabo is stronger."

Sanguinius also sat down. "But Dorn's willpower is stronger."

He'll probably make it to the end."

Lion stood aside without sitting down, with his arms folded on his chest, watching the fight. "Perturabo has a good chance of winning."

But Dorn won't let him win easily."

Angron sat down and watched silently.

Magnus also sat down and asked curiously, "How long do you think they will fight?"

Guilliman opened the parchment in his hand and continued to review, "One day? Two days? Anyway, I have plenty of time."

The fighting continued, and so did the shouting matches.

Perturabo punched Dorn in the face. "You piece of wood! Stone! Robot! You have no human touch at all!"

Dorn kicked Perturabo in the abdomen. "You glass heart! It will break at the touch of it! I feel wronged all day long!"

Perturabo grabbed Dorn's legs and threw him out. "What do you know! You will always be praised and valued!"

What about me? I'm just your stepping stone!"

Dorn got up from the ground and rushed forward. "Because you can only complain! You can only be jealous! You can only feel that you are not good enough!"

You have the energy, why not do more practical things!"

Perturabo's fists fell like raindrops. "Have I not done enough?"

I have conquered ten times more planets than you!

I've built a hundred times more fortresses than you!

I--"

Dorn grabbed his fist and squeezed it hard. "But you never feel it's enough!"

You will always feel that others look down upon you!

Always live in your own fantasy!"

Perturabo groaned in pain, but another fist had already hit him. "So what! That's the kind of person I am!"

I'm just jealous of you!

I just hate you!

Just-" His voice suddenly stopped.

Dorn looked at him, with a hint of complexity in his eyes. "What is it?"

Perturabo was silent for a moment, then punched Dorn away. "It's none of your business!"

Dorn got up from the ground and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. The blood was golden.

He looked at Perturabo, with anger, helplessness, and a hint of humor in his eyes. "Can't you be normal?"

Perturabo gasped. "What's wrong with me?"

Dorn also gasped. "Nothing is normal!"

The two fought together again.

Guilliman was reviewing the documents while watching the fight.

His expression was very calm, as if he was watching an ordinary sports match.

Tarasha sat next to him, holding a glass of juice in his hand, looking at the two Primarch who were covered with injuries, his eyes full of distress:

"Is it really okay for them to continue fighting like this?"

Guilliman said without raising his head, "No problem."

He won't die anyway."

Malcador also nodded. "Yes, I can't die."

Primarch's recovery ability is very strong, coupled with our treatment technology, he can be saved even if he only has one breath left."

Tarasha was still a little worried. "But they were seriously injured."

Guilliman finally raised his head and looked at the two brothers who were fighting each other, with a smile on his lips, "Mother, don't worry."

They need this.

Ten thousand years of grievances cannot be resolved with a few words.

It would be good for them both to have a fight and vent all their grievances."

Tarasha was silent for a moment, then sighed softly, "You always have a point."

Guilliman smiled, "That's natural."

Sanguinius was sitting nearby, watching the fight, and suddenly said, "Perturabo is going to win."