Even Being a Primarch Won't Save You
Slimux's single eye blinked slowly.
The scene replayed repeatedly in his single eye.
Is that Space Marines?
Even if you're the Primarch, you can't be this awesome!
Slimux took a deep breath and stood up from the ruins.
Fine cracks appeared on his body—not surface cracks, but cracks caused by the energy network woven by the Blessed Nurgle within him, broken by the impact of that fist.
What seeped from those cracks was not blood, but a dark green, glowing Chaos energy that formed tiny lightning bolts on his skin.
He's looking for his snail.
His Mucky.
His steed, his only companion, for 65 million years.
Then he saw it.
The snail was lying on the ground not far away, its body still twitching slightly.
Its shell had cracked, and a large amount of mucus and bodily fluids were seeping out of the cracks.
Its tentacles drooped limply to the ground, and the eyes at the tips of its two fleshy pillars had completely lost their luster.
In front of the snail stood a tall Space Marines, a head taller than Cato, wearing a white helmet.
Malum Kaido.
Chapter Thirty-Three: Mad Dog
Kaido looked at the still twitching snail in front of him and didn't hesitate at all.
He raised his right fist, and Smart Atoms condensed into a light blue shield on the surface of his fist before slamming it down.
The force of the fist struck the snail's head precisely in the center, and the huge, sandbag-sized soft head instantly exploded under his fist, splattering juices everywhere.
The broken snail's body twitched a few more times, then remained completely still.
Kaido's hands didn't stop.
He drew the Chainsword from his waist; the serrated blade spun rapidly in the air, emitting a piercing buzzing sound.
He gripped the sword with both hands, raised it high, and then brought it down fiercely.
The serrated teeth of the Chainsword bite into the cracks in the snail's shell, tearing, cutting, and crushing it.
The sword burned with the blue-gold flames bestowed by Guilliman, and each serrated edge that cut through the snail's flesh left a black scorch mark on the rotting meat.
Kaido pulled hard, and the sword was pulled out of the snail shell, bringing with it a sticky, sizzling piece of soft tissue.
He turned around.
Slimux stood up from the ruins and met Kaido's gaze.
At that moment, he didn't see a single person.
What he saw was a mad dog that had been chained for a hundred years and had finally broken free.
There was no fear, no hesitation in those eyes, only a pure, undisguised killing intent.
Kaido walked towards him.
There was no running, no sprinting, just walking.
Step by step, the pace was small and the frequency was slow, but each step felt like stamping the earth with a seal.
His boots pounded on the scorched earth, making not a crisp "thump," but a deafening "thud, thud," each sound like a heavy hammer pounding into Slimux's chest.
Before Slimux could even raise his gardening sickle, Kaido was already in front of him.
The left hand, clad in a white power glove, suddenly shot out, fingers spread, and gripped Slimux's neck tightly.
Slimux could feel the power in those five fingers—it wasn't the power of an ordinary Space Marines, or even an ordinary Primarch offspring; it was a terrifying, suffocating brute force that was close to that of the Primarch himself.
Kaido lifted him off the ground.
Slimux's feet were off the ground, and his body was lifted high into the air like a chicken being strangled.
He struggled, trying to swing the scythe, but his arm was powerless against Kaido's strength.
He tried to spray spores, but his throat was choked, and he couldn't breathe.
"Were you just trying to attack me, the great Gene-Father?"
Kaido's voice was extremely calm, as if he were asking, "The weather's nice today, isn't it?" In his other hand, the Chainsword was already pressed against Slimux's chest.
The blade began to spin, and the serrated edges began to bite into Slimux's skin.
Slimux's one eye suddenly widened.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something—perhaps a curse, perhaps a plea for mercy, perhaps "My benevolent father will avenge me"—but Kaido didn't give him a chance to speak.
The Chainsword went in.
The sword pierced Slimux's chest and emerged from his back, golden flames burning fiercely at the wound.
Slimux let out a muffled, expunging scream, his body arched violently, and then slumped down limply.
Kaido began reciting a prayer.
It's not the kind of mechanical, rigid, or textbook-copying style.
His voice was calm and solemn, each word enunciated clearly and forcefully, like an ancient hymn.
"By the Emperor, my father Guilliman."
In your name we slay this evil spirit.
May his soul never be reborn, may his body be reduced to dust.
With the Emperor's Sword, in the name of the Son of War, I hereby declare—evil shall be slain.
Despair flickered in Slimux's single eye.
He wanted to rebel, to gather Chaos energy, and to detonate his last bit of power to perish together with this madman.
But the Chainsword burning with golden flames was stuck in his chest, each tooth scorching his energy core. The flames suppressed his demonic nature, making it difficult for him to even breathe.
Just then, a figure with a stern face emerged from the crack.
Titus.
Captain of the Second Company of the Ultramarines, Master of the Watch, Watcher of Ultramar.
His Power Armour was covered in dust from Nurgle's Garden, and he carried the Power Sword that had been blessed countless times by the Primarch.
His face looked very pale.
"Kaido."
His voice was deep and cold, "How could you fight Great Unclean One alone? He's Greater Daemon!"
His tone clearly conveyed dissatisfaction.
Kaido.
He turned to look at Titus, and for a fleeting moment, a hint of peace appeared in his eyes, which had been filled with murderous rage.
"Lord Titus," he said, "I did not mean to stray from the group."
Kaido genuinely admired Titus.