Without the Weirdboss's support, the Blood Axe boss was at a crushing disadvantage.
Every time he worked up the courage to face the Primarch, he struggled. His blood axe, which normally felt weightless, became mountain-heavy the moment it touched the Emperor's Sword.
Amid all this chaos, the angriest person was neither Guilliman, who had watched the Blood Axe boss smash his bathhouse to pieces, nor Titus, who was sprinting empty-handed after losing his Chainsword, but...
Cato Sicarius.
Why were this Dreadnought's little legs so damn slow?
That Blood Axe boss had been his prey. His! Its name should have been inscribed on his record of honors!
Then his Gene-Father had "stolen" his glory.
More accurately, he had knocked it flying.
He rampaged forward, tearing apart the Ork bodyguards racing after their boss and leaving a trail of destruction littered with severed limbs.
"I am Cato Sicarius! I am the Emperor's blade! I am the bulwark of honor! I am death's summons!"
His Power Fist plunged into an Ork's chest and twisted, grinding it apart. Through the spraying fungal fluids, he saw Titus sprinting frantically ahead with nothing in either hand.
"Titus, catch!"
He hurled the mangled Ork corpse toward Titus. Titus felt a rush of wind behind him and turned to see a bloodstained axe spinning toward him.
The Ork bodyguard boss's corpse crashed to the floor, while Titus caught the battle-axe securely. It was a "one-handed axe"-by Ork standards-forged from some mysterious ore, pitch-black and seamless, as though crafted by a divine smith.
This was definitely not an Ork-made axe. They must have acquired it while working as mercenaries for some xenos species.
Axe in hand, Titus crossed the rubble and vanished into the enormous hole the Blood Axe boss had smashed open.
A violent chain detonation overwhelmed and