"Give me somethin' to enjoy, canned Humie." Boss Copperhead planted the Killer Axe on the ground and spoke in High Gothic, the official language of the Imperium of Man.
"Arrogant barbarian, you cannot stop a soaring eagle." With that, Jaghatai raised his long blade and thrust, seeking an advantage by striking while Boss Copperhead's weapon was set aside.
A slight tilt of the Killer Axe easily blocked his blade. Instead, Boss Copperhead smiled in satisfaction. "Not bad. You're fast, and you hit hard enough. An opponent like you won't bore me, at least."
The Killer Axe and the long blade clashed again. In that single exchange, Jaghatai was overwhelmed. He dropped to one knee, bracing both hands against the back of his blade, yet Boss Copperhead's immense strength still pressed it against his armor.
The Killer Axe hung over Jaghatai's head, its cutting edge several times larger than his skull. Its surface was dark, not with decorative paint, but with the deep black of countless kinds of blood dried upon it.
Jaghatai had expected a difference in strength, but not one this vast. The Ork Warboss facing him had used only one hand! Yet he had pinned Jaghatai down so thoroughly that he could not even stand.
Perhaps finding it boring to overpower him with one hand, Boss Copperhead raised a foot and kicked Jaghatai flying. Like a cannonball, Jaghatai slammed into a crowd of Orks who had failed to get out of the way in time.
As a Primarch and a demigod, Jaghatai had rarely considered that he might lose or die in battle. Now, lying beneath a heap of flesh and blood, he realized that even escaping alive would demand everything he had.
The Emperor had used vast quantities of Warp energy to create the twenty Primarchs. That