Angron's terrifying presence instantly drew everyone's attention on the battlefield. No one cared about the dying Khârn.
The primarch gripped two massive, grotesquely shaped chainaxes in both hands. Their materials came from a beast known as the mica dragon on the death world of Luther McIntyre.
These dreadful battleaxes, named Bloodfather and Bloodson, were Angron's weapons. Their teeth had been forged from mica dragon fangs, and viscous blood faintly clung to their blades, producing that pungent stench of blood.
Angron casually swept his gaze over the cobalt-blue battle formation surrounding him. The overwhelming pressure nearly stopped every Ultramarine's heart.
This had nothing to do with willpower or courage. Faced with a traitor primarch who resembled a demon, everyone felt an instinctive tremor.
"All units! Form ranks!"
That unmistakable build and terrifying presence revealed his identity: Angron, primarch of the World Eaters.
Facing their gene-father's former brother, the Ultramarines did not hesitate in the slightest, even though they were almost instinctively suppressed whenever Angron's gaze passed over them.
Heavy bolter rounds and plasma fire came down like a torrential storm. Angron raised Bloodfather and Bloodson before himself, then kicked the heavily wounded Khârn into the drop pod behind him, using its sturdy hull to preserve his life.
Even so, Angron still retained one of the few scraps of mercy he had left for Khârn. This warrior had persuaded his gene-father to stop killing through the gladiatorial customs of Nuceria. He truly resembled a Nucerian.
Angron saw the shadows of his brothers and sisters in him.
The primarch moved. He almost instantly vanished from the Ultramarines' sight, and Bloodfather's afterimage struck before one Ultramarine's shield before his eyes could react.
Fast—unparalleledly fast. The primarch's movements and attack speed completely surpassed an Astartes's limits. He descended like a bloody storm.
The savage chainaxe