Angron's immense strength allowed him to gain the upper hand even against Guilliman in his new-pattern armor.
His eyes were filled with mockery and sorrow. "You ask me why? What do you know of struggle, Guilliman? Your people worship you as a king, while the people of my world called me a slave. Which one of us landed on a civilized world and was raised by a foster father?"
"You received systematic military training, and your subordinates are capable generals and soldiers, while I had no choice but to rise in rebellion."
"I had only a group of starving slave brothers and sisters at my side. You inherited an enlightened, powerful nation, while my world was filled with bloody, terrifying monsters."
"You arrogant people of Macragge shout about courage and honor every day, yet you do not understand what courage is." Angron forced the Honoured Blade downward with his heavy axe, his spittle splashing across Guilliman's helmet.
"Courage is fighting the kingdom that oppresses you, even if its army is ten thousand times stronger than yours. You know nothing of honor. Glory is raising the banner of revolution while everyone else clings to a tyrant's hypocritical broken promises and grows fat from them."
Without the false rage stirred by the Butcher's Nails, Angron unleashed the true fury within his heart.
He was furious. He hated the Emperor's favoritism and injustice. He loathed that his brothers had been granted fates so utterly different from his own.
Angron's heavy axe struck faster and faster. Guilliman's Honoured Blade darted left and right, stubbornly resisting the fierce shadows of the axe, while the Lightning Claw on his left hand waited for an opening before tearing a deep bloody gash across Angron's chest.
The Lord of the Red Sands staggered back several steps. He touched