Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 385: His Highness Fulgrim asked me to send his regards to you
"Your opponent is me! The devil!"

Saul Tarvitz, who finally arrived at the place where Lucius' body was found (?), first looked with reluctance at Lucius's lavishly and unnaturally decorated death face, whose beautiful head had miraculously remained intact even on the blood-spattered dining table.

Then he drew his power sword at the huge twisted demon with a hundred times the fury. The grief and indignation in his voice was so real and strong that his comrades, infected by his determination and fighting spirit, silently dispersed around him, scouting the battlefield for Tarvitz who was eager for revenge and counting the escaped fish at the scene, so as to prevent the sacred revenge of this warrior from being interrupted by any inconsiderate interference.

or.

"Hey, are we really not going to help him? Gavial? I remember that Thor's sword skills are actually..." Mr. Tariq Torgaddon, who has been talking more and more wildly recently, took a alert posture and lived up to everyone's expectations while quietly asking Gavial Loken in the private channel.

"...His expertise may not be in martial arts, but he still has the normal martial arts quality of a company commander, Torgaddon, at least." Gavial Loken, who did not realize that he had also been led astray, pondered for a moment, "At least when he can no longer hold on, we can..."

"Okay!" Torgaddon agreed in his communication beads. "When we see that it's time, we'll rush forward so that Tarvitz can chop off the disgusting thing's head with his sword to commemorate this stupid peacock. To be honest, although I was impressed by his performance in the duel with His Highness Angron, it is indeed sad that Lucius, with such superb swordsmanship, ended up with such a meaningless and blasphemous death."

"Indeed," Loken agreed, "This should not be the end for a warrior, especially one who survived Isstvan III."

They were silent for a moment as they recalled the otherworldly scenes and memories on that planet.

Tarvitz had already rushed forward with his power sword raised, fighting with this strange demon. For the time being, it seemed that his life was not in danger, because the excellent new weapon and his rage made up for some of his lack of force.

Most of the others' attention was also on the two duelists in the arena.

So no one noticed.

The beautiful, pale remains of Lucius' head, which looked like a withered white rose, began to disappear slowly, like falling petals.

------

"The Emperor's son! Kill his father's enemy!"

He roared out the battle cry he was once most familiar with, as well as the anger, sadness, confusion and bewilderment from the days on Isstvan III to the present.

Sol Tarvitz, in his rage, unexpectedly cut off one of the demon's pincers, although the price was that his breastplate was hit hard by the opponent's whip-like tail, and the whole person flew out, hit the magnificent wall of the banquet hall and slid down.

"Tavitz!" Loken shouted, "Are you okay?!"

The answer was a roar filled with hatred and anger, and the first thing that jumped out from the smoke and dust of the shattered wall was the 10th Company Captain's eyepieces, which were filled with fighting spirit.

To be fair, Tarvitz's martial arts skills are only poor when measured against the standards of the Third Legion or the Council of Four Kings.

His sword was already fast, quite fast.

As soon as the first blow landed, the second blow followed, and the third blow cunningly cut diagonally towards the demon's side where one of its pincers was missing.

If it weren't for its four pincers and two whip tails, this newborn would undoubtedly have difficulty dealing with Tarvitz's attack.

But the bad thing is that its tail is as flexible as its pincers.

The loss of one of its pincers undoubtedly taught it a lesson, and after dodging the Emperor's Children's furious continuous slashes ("He really should have borrowed the two-handed axes of the warhounds, the one-handed power sword is too small for a target of this size." - in the words of Torgadon), it cunningly used another pincer as a sacrifice, and then the remaining two blocked Tarvitz's movements. The vicious and flexible whip tail tightly entangled Tarvitz and sent him to its own mouth.

"Fresh... delicious...!" she or it giggled, the demon using an unusually soft feminine voice, which was so inconsistent with its body shape that it gave people goose bumps. The next whisper froze Tarvitz's counterattack.

"His Highness Fulgrim asked me to say hello to you..." It opened its long, pointed mouthparts, and its thick, whip-like tongue stabbed into Tarvitz's abdomen with the force of a deadly weapon.

Just as the others were preparing to shoot or rush up to chop the demon with their swords.

Brother Whiterace suddenly moved. He took a step forward, drew out his black sword, and swung it.

The demon suddenly paused.

Then, it was like a blood flower blooming everywhere from the inside out.

It began to break apart.

Eventually, its belly swelled up like the guests it had devoured, and the man-eating demon that had been transformed from a human wailed and cursed, but to no avail.

Its belly opened up, like a blooming six-layer red lotus of flesh and blood.

A foot stepped out from the deepest part of the lotus.

Then another one.

A swordsman's step that achieves exquisite and perfect balance.

"Hey, why are you all here? Are you all here to pick me up? I'm so happy!"

Lucius, the alive and clean Lucius, appeared happily in front of everyone.

Lucius, who had just been resurrected as if by some miracle or, worse, some demonic ritual, nonchalantly stepped on the broken flesh and blood on the ground - after the power that came down from the highest heaven began to fade away, these swollen and huge flesh and blood bones began to shrink as if they were dehydrated, returning to their original size when they were still on the human body.

He looked around and curiously approached the Astartes figure in front of him.

"I could have gotten out without it, but it is a very, very perfect sword," he said, his violet eyes gleaming with obvious interest. "To think an Astartes could wield such a sword! May I know your name first? My dear cousin, I am not very good at recognizing the colorful offspring of Master Guilliman today."

"I am not of the bloodline of the Thirteenth Legion. I am a son of the glorious Dorne." The other party replied briefly, "For now, I will temporarily use the name 'Whiterace'."

"Hmm? But dear brother Whiterace, my little gift from His Majesty Angron tells me that your body seems to be a kind of machine that is not very approved of?"

"My original flesh and blood body has long been unable to be driven due to the passage of time, but neither I nor my creator have violated the Crimson Protocol."

"That's not the point I'm talking about!" The man who had just been resurrected poked the other party's metal breastplate with his finger in dissatisfaction.

Sigismund looked as if he wanted to back off, which made Lucius raise an eyebrow.

"Oh? Really? Which one is the point? Which one? Huh? Which one? !!!!!!! Lucius!!!!!!!!! Stop harassing other people!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You'd better come and explain to me what's going on!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

In the calm reflection of Sigismund's eyepiece.

A shadow, an extremely angry shadow appeared behind the smiling champion swordsman.

(End of this chapter)