Scraping by Just to Stay Alive?

Before Mortarion stood that same brass door, which he finally pushed open steadily.

The moment the door opened, the entire scene before my eyes underwent a dramatic transformation.

The toxic smog had completely disappeared, replaced by a warm, humid, and sticky smell of blood.

This is Angron's home ground, the Arena that Khorne built specifically for him, his altar.

The sky was a somber red, like blood that had just been spilled and was still warm.

Beneath their feet lay dried blood, a dark brown hue mixed with sand, and the air echoed with the never-ending roar of battle.

The stench of blood mingled with the smell of gunpowder, assaulting the nostrils; the echoes of battle cries mingled with the sounds of fighting, making one's blood boil.

At that moment, Angron stood in the center of the Arena.

Compared to Mortarion, Angron's situation is not optimistic at this moment.

His weapon had long since broken, the shattered handle lying on the ground. His entire body was covered in cuts from sharp blades, the blood scabbing over and congealing the moment it flowed out.

He was panting as he looked at the figure before him.

That guy was many times larger than me, and he had a very obvious thing on his head— the Butcher's Nails.

That monster only looked like a human, but it was a monster through and through.

With dark red skin, wearing brass-colored armor, his eyes held nothing but killing intent and rage.

Even when not engaged in fighting and killing, the monster constantly radiated its anger and murderous intent.

Angron didn't know what that thing was, but based on his limited understanding, it was the butcher of Daemon.

"Damn bastard, you've finally shown your true colors!"

At the beginning, Angron saw another version of himself, but that version was more insane, more furious, and more bloodthirsty.

But as the battle raged on, the bastard who had imitated him finally shed his human skin, revealing his current Daemon face.

This is your destiny, this is your future, this is you!

"Shut up! I would never be that kind of bastard!"

"Clang!"

Angron casually picked up the giant axe beside him and swung it. The shockwave from the clash of the axe blades made the entire arena tremble.

As for Angron himself, he had at least three broken ribs, and every breath he took carried the metallic smell of blood and the gritty texture of visceral fragments.

But his eyes shone with a frightening light, like a raging fire reborn from the embers, staring intently at the Daemon before him.

At that moment, Mortarion appeared beside Angron.

"Angron, are you alright?"

"Mortarion, you've finally arrived. Don't worry, I'm not going to die."

"Let's fight side by side, brother," Mortarion said.

"No."

But at this moment, Angron rejected his proposal.

"This is my destiny, brother."

"Although this may not be my current fate, nor may it be my fate for this lifetime."

"But he is very likely my ultimate fate in some other world. Since that voice keeps saying this is my destiny, then I will face my destiny head-on!"

Face him head-on, and then smash him to pieces!

But Mortarion knew that the entire Nuceria was now Arena for Chaos Gods, and they had put a lot of effort into Angron.

In the very end, Angron will be worn down and die.

"He's wearing you down, my brother. That's not a wise move." Mortarion dodged the monster's attack, while simultaneously trying to take Angron with him.

Of all his brothers, Mortarion and Horus had the best relationship.

After arriving in Nuceria and getting to know Angron, Mortarion truly accepted him as a brother.

He is resilient, gentle, understanding, and brave.

Moreover, his mission in Nuceria this time was to take Angron away.

Therefore, he cannot be harmed.

"You're bleeding out; if you don't leave now, you'll really die here."

Angron kicked the monster a long way away, spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, and then looked at Mortarion.

"Walk?"

He smiled.

"What do you think I'm doing? Rolling around in this godforsaken place for fun?"

"Mortarion, I know you mean well, but there are some things I must do."

"If I cannot even defeat this monster at this moment, how can the entire Nuceria be reborn under my leadership?"

"Furthermore, from a strategic point of view, leaving here is not a big mistake, but I cannot abandon the brothers who fought alongside me. To me, that would be a shameless betrayal, a cowardly act of living a life of ignominy."

"Running away means admitting defeat, it means abandoning the cause!"

"He wants me to admit defeat, to accept that this is my fate, but I am Angron, the fiercest gladiator in Nuceria."

"Even if I, Angron, die, I will use my last breath to spit blood all over his face!"

"There are only gladiators who die in battle, not gladiators who die of fright."

Mortarion stared blankly at Angron.

Watching Angron, who, despite being severely injured, struggled to his feet and continued fighting the phantom using readily available weapons, was a sight to behold.

His brother.

Gladiators of Nuceria.

How similar are they to him?

Wasn't he facing a similar situation before?

This moment is just like that moment back then.

The only difference is that the people have changed, and their identities have changed too.

He once faced Emperor who would take him away without a word; now, Angron faces his brother who wants to take him away.

Now, Mortarion understood his Uncle's good intentions, he understood Angron's determination, and he understood the Emperor's thoughts.

"Haha! My brother, you're right!"

"It is better to die a heroic death than to live a life of ignominy today!"

Mortarion moved, using his power to create as much of a fair duel space as possible for Angron.

He single-handedly blocked all the Daemon that surrounded him.

Thump! Thump thump!

At that moment, a series of muffled drumbeats sounded.

In the stands, only one scene remained: Mortarion and Angron battling Daemon in the arena.

Han Mingxuan was watching the arena, and the three Chaos Gods were also watching it; it was their final showdown.

"You've already lost two games, aren't you planning to give up?"

"Indeed, Mr. Han, your strength, though ordinary, is awe-inspiring, but admitting defeat is not my style!"

"In that case, let's bring this final showdown to its climax."

It's a pity we don't know where Sevatar went, otherwise he would have been in charge of the drumming this time.

Having worked Miner in this world for a while, I have some physical strength; otherwise, drumming would be incredibly strenuous.

Under the watchful eye of the Chaos Gods, Han Mingxuan finally picked up the pair of drumsticks.

Thump! Thump thump!