As the dust cleared, Fulgrim's four once-elegant arms braced against the ground at grotesquely twisted angles.
"Crude! Barbaric! Utterly devoid of beauty!!"
Fulgrim raised his head, his face full of shock and fury. He had never imagined that the lumbering golden hunk of metal would resort to a street thug's dirty trick of pulling his hair.
"ROOOAR!!!"
Yet what greeted him was neither an apology nor applause, but two enormous brass axes capable of cleaving mountains, and a gaping maw full of drool and fangs.
Skarbrand, Khorne's mightiest exile, did not care what the purple thing before him was. In his brain, already burned out by rage, anything alive, moving, and reeking of that nauseating perfume was a "weakling" that absolutely had to be hacked to death.
"KILL!!!"
Skarbrand gave Fulgrim no chance to catch his breath. With a fierce beat of his ragged wings, he brought his axes down toward Fulgrim's head in a plain, brutal overhead chop.
"Mad dog! Get away from me!"
Fulgrim was forced to raise his four Daemon Swords to block again. A purple shield of psychic power unfolded before him, but he had clearly underestimated Skarbrand's strength-or rather, the extra strength granted by Khorne's bone-deep hatred of Slaanesh.
CLANG!!!
With a thunderous crash, Fulgrim felt as though a planet had struck him head-on. His four Warp-blessed arms gave a teeth-grating series of bone-cracking sounds, and he was smashed into the ground again, sinking even deeper this time.
"Ouch. That hurts just to watch."
Not far away, Liu Zhipeng might have been making snide remarks, but his movements were anything but slow. He knew perfectly well that this was his only chance.
"Kick them while they're down. That's the one eternal truth."
Liu Zhipeng drew a deep breath. The golden flames within him surged once