Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 646: The pigeon must meet the wolf
Leman Russ had not yet fully opened his eyes when the cool scent of people and game and, as if on the best days of Fenris, the faint smell of ozone from the lightning beneath the rolling storm clouds twisted into a cable and drilled into his nostrils.

But he had already made the most instinctive reaction when he realized that his life was in danger.

He howled and roared with all his might, waving his strong arms and kicking his powerful legs. The gray cloud-colored ceramic steel armor wrapped around his limbs wrestled with the younger but tougher alloy material. The edges of the metal made a teeth-grinding, harsh friction sound as the huge beast struggled, like a metal dragon scratching a huge glass blackboard with its long claws.

Tiny orange-gold sparks flew from the edges of the cage where he struggled fiercely but futilely to prevent himself from being crushed to death.

At this time, a voice that was somewhat familiar to Ruth but sounded a little different seemed to have just reacted after being stunned, and shouted to someone, "We have to get him out immediately! There is no way this can hold him!"

Fulgrim?

Leman Russ began to cough and choke, and stars appeared in his eyes because his airway and lungs were completely compressed in an instant. He could hear the sound of his armor chest on the verge of shattering. This space was too small. For a fully armored giant like him, it was simply a container of torture and execution. It must be an accident and revenge caused by Magnus and his foolish abuse of witchcraft!

Very good, now look at it, it happened almost in front of everyone in the theater, including the humans they were in charge of, their brothers, and their fathers!

Magnus was finished.

Leman Russ was half angry at this silly nerdy brother for completely ignoring his advice and ultimately ending up with his dark and evil psychic tricks, and half angry at the shape of the spell that almost folded and compressed his body in half, or whatever it was - it was very solid - and it was very difficult for him to break free.

This position, where he was trapped from the buttocks down with only his head, hands and feet exposed, even made it impossible for him to draw his weapon, otherwise how could this have happened!
Although Fulgrim was able to appease him somewhat, Leman Rusko did not enjoy being saved by Fulgrim.

At this moment, a pair of solid metal hands, roughly the same size as Leman Russ himself, reached out from the side, and one of the hands held some kind of hot melt cutter. It was turned on, and it began to calmly and accurately cut the metal next to his armor.

"Don't move." The voice said to him with a strange steel echo, like a synthesized version of Rogal Dorn. "Bear with it, it will be fine soon."

"You make it sound so damn easy, Rogue. I feel like I've been folded in half and stuffed into the base of the narrowest fjord in Asaheim. If you don't pull me out, I swear I'm going to vomit on you!"

Fulgrim seemed to make a short sound of great surprise and a hint of disgust at these words.

There was also the sound of wings flapping. It was a little faint, but that might be because of the distance.

- So Sanguinius is here too? So he's still in Nicaea? Ha, that's good, he'll soon know Magnus' fate. Perhaps today, with the exception of his brother, the lives of most of Magnus' followers will be cut off.

It is not surprising that Rogge is here too. After all, although he received the notice of the Ullanor Triumph, he did not go in the end. However, Russ knew the Emperor's preference.

Rogal Dorn and his Imperial Fists have been leaving their war zones and returning to Terra since last year. The Seventh Legion will be responsible for the guarding and defense of the periphery of the Imperial Palace, Terra, and the solar system.

Although as the leader of the wolf pack, if he were to handle it, he would think it was a promotion in name only and a demotion in reality, which greatly wasted the excellent soldier resources of the Imperial Fists, but considering that Dorn's character was indeed very suitable for this job, and most importantly, the Emperor wanted Dorn and his Astartes to do this, then Russ would naturally not be stupid enough to say this.

"Ha... ahem, you piece of stone, please don't burn my cloak. This is my favorite wolf skin..."

"If you don't move, I'll make sure it stays."

After Dorn's melta-cutter hissed and freed Russ and his power armor from the cockpit of something that seemed to be designed for a particularly petite body, clean, cool air finally flowed into the wolf king's lungs. He turned to Dorn, who had helped him out, with a grin, and his eyes began to focus.

"Finally it's out! What happened to the wizard leader now——"

Fangs long enough to scare mortals trembled with fear protruded from Rus's overly protruding muzzle, or rather, overly thin lips, shining coldly under the light.

The Sixth Primarch sprang up from where he stood with agility and strength unimaginable for a man of his size and weight, and struck a blow directly into the center of the metallic death mask that was Magnar Dorn's face, but that Rogal Dorn would never wear.

"Pfft! I knew it! It's all an illusion! Magnus, you son of a bitch! Don't try to trap my soul with your witchcraft tricks!"

The beautifully decorated makeshift lounge was instantly filled with the sounds of utensils and furniture being stepped on, thrown, and broken.

In a flash, when Leman Russ was trying to chop Magnar Dorn's neck with the giant sword behind him, a nimble figure jumped onto his backpack as if dancing in the air.

Regardless of the fact that his work clothes were immediately burned by the hot backpack and gave off a suspicious burnt smell, Fulgrim Pallas, who was also unarmed on the comfortable and safe Destiny Steel, gritted his teeth and pulled out the screwdriver he used to tie his hair, and used it to smash Leman Russ's power armor again and again.

"You fiend!" The King of Fenris roared angrily, like a giant wolf shaking its fur. "You can't defeat me! You little devil incarnate of witchcraft! You don't even know where to attack! Weak! I can tell at a glance that you are Magnus... Pah! You evil spirit! What have you done!"

"Of course I know where to strike, you big fool. I've slain war bosses with bigger skulls than yours."

Fulgrim Pallas, who had jumped from the locked and shaking backpack of the Frost Armor to the ground, spoke calmly, and at the same time walked over to pull up Magnar Dorn and began to check the many parts of his metal armor that had been severely deformed by the smash.

"You should be thankful for his timely text message that saved you, because I wanted to just stick a screwdriver into your head and give it a few good twists to open your eyes!"

"I won't thank anyone but you evil spirits!"

The wolf king glared at these two strange and unreasonable fake brothers who were obviously some kind of hallucination. At the same time, another mouthful of thick phlegm was forcefully spat at Fulgrim Pallas's feet. Although he dodged quickly, it seemed that a few drops still splashed on the upper of his shoes. "Hey! You drooling old dog! Russ!"

In the desperate reflection of the royal court steward Rilano who rushed into the lounge, the young Phoenix, who was obviously not a punching bag, stood with his hands on his hips and cursed fiercely at the brother with whom he had no actual time to spend.

He used the most noble and elegant voice to describe how terrible Russ's teeth and lower body were, and kept attacking how his fighting ability failed at the critical moment, and how like dogs his sons were and how miserable they would be played by mortals. Finally, he ended with "Next time you dare to stick your tongue and drool at me, I will pull out your tongue, strangle you, and then stuff your head into your asshole" as a satisfying conclusion.

But after being scolded like this, Leman Russ seemed to be calmer. He kept a distance from Pallas and Magna, and moved carefully to a position where the Contemptor Dreadnought of Rilano could not easily shoot him first.

"…While Fulgrim would never have said such a thing in the presence of another person, Magnus could not have cursed so fluently, even if he imagined it. That does please you, boy. So who are you? Where is this? How far are we from Nikaea? What on earth just happened?"

"...Do you have a hobby of being scolded?" Pallas's delicate face looked strange for a moment, but he quickly resumed the conversation. "Take the questions one by one - I am Fulgrim Pallas. Well, you don't have to treat me as the Fulgrim you know, but you have to treat me as your new brother. This is the Iron Blood. How far away is it? About half of the Milky Way. You just exchanged your space-time positions with our other brother, Perturabo... I guess."

Leman Russ stared at the white-haired young Phoenix with his blue wolf eyes.

"Why? Isn't this what you asked me?"

"Tell me the truth. Plain and simple." The wolf king spoke again, with the restless heat of wolf smell emanating from his mouth and nose and every part of his body, like a wild beast restlessly imprisoned under his power armor. "Don't play any word games or puzzles with me, boy, or I will beat you all to pieces and find a boat to fly out to see what's going on."

"Which word I said was not true?!" Pallas raised his voice.

"What about this... abomination machine next to you? What is he? What is his connection to Dorn? If Dorn is here, let him talk to me! Where is Sanguinius?!"

"He is Dorn," the young phoenix muttered, adding, "But he is probably just a simulation of Dorn. We don't have Sanguinius here, so where can we get one for you?"

"Nonsense!" Leman Russ roared again. His smoothly shaved chin made his beast-like mouth and fangs particularly obvious. The runic totem stone at the end of his braid hit the surface of his armor as he moved. "How could Rogal Dorn be like this... And you said Dorn was on Perturabo's Iron Blood? We are all on Perturabo's Iron Blood? Perturabo's Iron Blood doesn't even have windows open! If you want to lie, you have to choose a relatively logical way to tell a lie! Boy!"

"Okay! If you don't believe us, we can! But do you believe him?!"

Fulgrim Pallas finally lost his last bit of patience with this wild brother who suddenly appeared. He roughly grabbed the wing of a pigeon that was trying to sneak away from the shadows, lifted it up by its two wings and slid it in front of the wolf king, then put the pigeon's beak almost against the other's nose.

Leman Russ's savage face, which was about to continue to show sarcasm and disdain, quickly changed into confusion, puzzlement, shock and other complex expressions after colliding with the dove's evasive eyes and the golden laurel crown.

He twitched his nose in disbelief, like a wolf desperate to confirm the other person's identity.

"Uh. Ahem. Ruth, my son."

Finally, the pigeon spoke awkwardly in the depths of everyone's mind in a space filled with sneers, silence, and sniffing noises of people watching the show.

"All-Father!" Leman Russ leaned back in a gesture of surprise, gripping his weapon again.

Just when Pallas thought he believed it, the leader of the wolf pack said the next sentence.

"I never thought Magnus could do something so audacious! Is this how he viewed our father?"

"Uh. Ruth." Seeing that things seemed to have no end, Bai Ge had to start taking some measures that he didn't want to take here.

The sound of the doves in everyone's mind gradually became noble and sacred, and a soft, pleasant, peaceful and commendable breath began to fall on the hearts of everyone present. Pallas frowned slightly, while Magna and Rilano could not see any expression on their metal masks. The biggest change was in Russ.

The eyes with black wolf-like pupils and the hair around the face with light freckles stood up slightly, reminiscent of a vigilant beast or something similar. Russ's nostrils twitched faster, and the liquid deep in his nasal cavity was secreted faster so that he could carefully distinguish the true identity of the thing in front of him.

"It's me. Ruth. Be quiet. Do you recognize me?"

The wolf king grunted, but the sound left his throat and turned into the low howl of a wild beast.

"In that case, then tell me how I recognized you when you came to see me."

"Ah," said the Dove, trying to get Fulgrim to let him go, "that is indeed a good way to tell the difference. - First of all, I did not enter your territory in my original form."

"That's right, just like now."

"Secondly..." the pigeon said slowly, "the process is not important, but I won the third competition."

"Fuck." Riemann of the Russ spat to the side again, "That statement is really you, Allfather."

"Thank God," Pallas muttered, "Can we finally find a place to sit down and talk again? Butler, help us."

(End of this chapter)