Racing at Breakneck Speed

Guilliman fell into deep thought when he heard the Ork warlord's demands.

These Greenskin Orks always managed to surprise him.

"I had thought that any wager these Greenskins could devise would be nothing more than both sides sending representatives to fight, with violence deciding the winner."

"But I never expected that only one of these three demands would involve combat?"

Guilliman could barely understand competing with a Speed Freek in speed and driving skill; after all, these Evil Sunz Greenskins treated racing as their lives.

But what in the world was this second wager, where humans and Greenskin Ork debate boyz held a debate?

Guilliman had not even known that Greenskin Orks possessed individuals capable of debating.

Everything he had seen and heard now was something utterly new, unlike anything he had encountered in the previous centuries of his life.

Even when dealing with the Ullanor Ork Empire, he had only seen those powerful, savage, incomparably barbaric Greenskin Orks.

For a moment, intense curiosity even arose within the primarch.

He truly wanted to see what kind of creature these Greenskin Orks capable of debating with humans actually were.

While Guilliman pondered, the Ork warlord Schwarzenegger was breaking into a cold sweat.

He was not one of those brainless barbaric kin who, regardless of the opponent, only knew to charge forward and start swinging.

He was an Ork of the Blood Axes Clan, skilled in thinking and reasoning, and he had a very clear understanding of his own strength.

Though he stood a head taller than Guilliman, who was roughly four meters tall, and appeared several times larger in build.

He knew that human gene-primarchs were extremely strange things. Their combat strength did not have much to do with their size.

Only among Orks did greater size mean greater combat strength.