32 Life-Ending Strikes (Part 1)

Chapter 33 32. Slaying Fate (Part 1)

Barbarus, northern mountains, Alien Lord Nac'Lare's territory, mountaintop.

Now.

On the highest peak of Barbarus, poisonous fog silently enshrouds, swirls, and lingers.

The sound of wind breaking echoes as the Primarch covers the distance of half a basketball court in mere fractions of a second!

Unspoken, blazing rage burns in Mortarion's eyes. Using the momentum of his extreme speed, he raises the warscythe in his hand—

"Clang!!!"

"Clang!!!"

Mortarion's full-force strike is blocked by Nac'Lare's giant scythe, Oblivion. Sparks erupt from the point where the two scythes meet, illuminating the fury in Mortarion's eyes.

Nac'Lare grips the scythe shaft with both hands, using it to hold Mortarion's scythe blade at bay.

For a moment, the two are locked in a contest of strength. Mortarion puts his entire body into the effort, twisting the scythe shaft and hacking downwards with all his might, the solid rock beneath his feet cracking under the pressure.

Compared to the rage-filled Mortarion, Nac'Lare, fully committed to deflecting the blow, seems to mock Mortarion's anger.

The tall, sturdy Alien Lord uses Mortarion's downward momentum to its advantage, crouching and retracting its scythe, instantly breaking the delicate balance of power that had been established.

Mortarion immediately pulls back and swings the scythe horizontally, then attempts to hook it forward, but the Alien Lord Nac'Lare anticipates Mortarion's next move. After retracting its scythe, it immediately retreats and leaps back, holding the scythe in one hand while extending the fingers of the other towards Mortarion.

Eerie, black-green psychic energy violently surges between its fingers.

"Oh, my laughable son!"

The psychic energy erupts instantly, the massive psychic disturbance warping the surrounding space!

But Mortarion doesn't panic as he did in his childhood. Instead, he laughs, his anger reaching a boiling point.

"It seems you really haven't paid attention to what your child has been doing down the mountain these past few years!"

Before Mortarion finishes speaking, Nac'Lare suddenly feels the surrounding space become oppressive, its connection to the Warp weakening, the laws of the physical world beginning to constrict it.

The psychic energy in its hand explodes before it can accumulate to the level it desires.

At the same time, anticipating this, Mortarion charges forward again, swinging his scythe directly at Nac'Lare's head!

Nac'Lare is startled by the sudden change, but it quickly recovers. Mortarion's warscythe is already upon it. Seeing that it can't dodge the descending blade, Nac'Lare has no time to raise its scythe in defense and simply reaches out to grab the blade, taking the hit head-on.

Nac'Lare's right hand is severed, blood splattering, but it successfully blocks Mortarion's fatal blow.

Seeing that it has the advantage, Mortarion immediately presses the attack, the scythe moving like a storm of rain, constantly attacking Nac'Lare, forcing it to parry repeatedly, unable to retaliate.

That's not right! There's someone else here!

And an Untouchable at that!

Nac'Lare now realizes that it has been tricked by Mortarion.

Mortarion's initial charge wasn't because he was enraged by its taunts, but to conceal the presence of the second person!

That person must be a mortal, unable to directly intervene in their battle, so Mortarion created an opening for him to enter the fray, catching it off guard when Nac'Lare used psychic sorcery.

It was careless! It assumed that no mortal could stand on this mountaintop.

While entangled with Mortarion, Nac'Lare focuses a portion of its attention on carefully searching for the figure it believes to be an Untouchable.

Untouchables can shield their presence from others, and this shielding ability is even stronger against Psykers.

This prevents Nac'Lare from directly sensing the presence of the second person.

But if it doesn't find and kill the Untouchable, Nac'Lare won't be able to use psychic sorcery effectively!

It quickly scans the entire area. Finally, Nac'Lare detects that nauseating aura particularly strong behind and to the right of it—

There!

Nac'Lare "sees" it!

"Don't lose focus!"

Mortarion's scythe strikes again, but Nac'Lare, having identified its target, smiles mockingly and uses its severed right arm to take the blow once more!

The arm slides down Mortarion's sharp scythe, thick blood reluctantly licking the sharp blade. Without another block or parry, Nac'Lare turns and leaps, swinging Oblivion with all its might in a spinning backhand strike—

It can't pinpoint the exact location of the Untouchable, so it has to gamble, exposing its back to Mortarion.

If Nac'Lare's next strike hits the Untouchable, and if Mortarion's next strike doesn't kill Nac'Lare, Then the victory in this battle will belong to Nac'Lare!

"Clang!"

The feedback of force suddenly travels up the scythe shaft.

Nac'Lare smiles. It guessed right.

Only when Nac'Lare made complete contact with that Untouchable could he barely make out the vague humanoid form.

The armor, already tattered from the corrosive gas, was creaking, and its diminutive height barely reached Nac'Lare's chest.

At this moment, this little person who had just ruined its plans was desperately blocking its attack with a scythe.

But the vast disparity in strength meant they weren't even in the same league as opponents. This so-called resistance would only last a fraction of a second—

"Crack!"

Hades watched helplessly as the shaft of his scythe shattered!

The Alien Lord Nac'Lare's giant scythe, Oblivion, hurtled towards his head—

Too fast!

Hades, taking advantage of his height, instantly crouched and retreated, but even as an elite among mortals, he was still just a regular human and couldn't keep up with Nac'Lare's speed. The giant scythe struck his helmet directly.

Concentrating its power on a single point, Nac'Lare unleashed a full-force blow.

Hades was sent flying, his helmet tumbling in the air, the blood mixed with white bone fragments. The crimson and pale colors, tainted by the poisonous gas, instantly turned gray and deteriorated.

Hades felt like a tattered rag doll, tossed into the air and then falling lightly to the ground.

The poisonous gas quickly kissed his exposed head, the left side of his face torn open by the giant scythe Oblivion, his left eye shattered, and his skull felt cracked.

Shouldn't have gotten so close.

Nac'Lare's psychic power was stronger than any Alien Lord Hades had encountered before. Hades could even feel his Null Field being suppressed by the opposing psychic energy.

To better suppress the opponent's psychic power, Hades had to take a risk. He compressed the Null Field to seven meters, cautiously following in Nac'Lare's blind spot.

After Nac'Lare's right arm was broken, Hades moved to the blind spot on its right side.

Of course, Hades knew that Nac'Lare would eventually discover him, and he had been preparing his defenses all along.

But he didn't expect Nac'Lare to be so insane!

Completely abandoning its defenses, Nac'Lare was instantly torn open in the abdomen by an enraged Mortarion with his scythe, internal organs sliding out of Nac'Lare's wound along the blade!

Mortarion saw Hades lying on the ground in the distance, about to lose consciousness, and his fury grew even more manic.

But Nac'Lare was even more manic. The tall, strong Alien Lord laughed wildly, then raised its right arm, now only a short stump, and swung it down—

A massive surge of psychic power exploded around Mortarion, blasting open his armor, fragments scattering with the impact.

With the sudden increase in poisonous gas and psychic pressure, Mortarion's vision went black.

"Cough!"

He coughed up a mouthful of black blood mixed with minced meat.

"Kneel!!!"

The immense psychic power pressed down again!

—The situation reversed in an instant—

Hades lay on the ground, his vision blurring. He saw Mortarion's figure swaying under the immense pressure of the psychic power.

So, I really can't change anything?

Is this the world of Warhammer?

Hades couldn't hold on any longer, his consciousness gradually slipping towards the edge of the cliff...

Suddenly realized I have a small fight every five paragraphs, and a big one every ten.

Truly Warhammer, just get it done.

By the way, do you all like it when I write fights often?

Happy reading (ω)