Warhammer: Angron Training Manual

Chapter 30 Anger
The Flayers are still hunting Yochula.

When Yochula tripped over a stone on the red sand and fell to the ground, looking back in despair at the Skinner who had pounced on him, a spear pierced the Skinner's chest.

Crest stood behind the skinner with a ferocious look on his face, and the muscular lines on his strong arms were more obvious as he held the spear.

Valkyrie.

A word popped into Yochula's mind.

At a very young age, Yochula would be held in her mother's arms as she told stories of their people who had been massacred and enslaved by the Dessiahs.

Among them is the story of the Valkyrie, a woman skilled in warfare who was promoted to god because of her military exploits.

Kleist's appearance is obviously different from that of the Valkyrie. The Valkyrie is muscular with graceful feminine lines, while Kleist is just strong.

But this did not prevent Yochula from thinking that Kleist, who had saved him, was a Valkyrie in his eyes.

"stand up."

Kleist pulled the spear from the corpse, the ferocious expression on his face was replaced by concern, and his bloody hand reached out to Yochula.

Yochula held Crest's hand, and just when he was about to use the force to stand up, Crest pulled him up easily like a child.

"Angron!" Crest turned and waved to the Primarch.

The Maggot Eye had already emitted the host's announcement that the fight was over, and the cheers of the audience had been ringing for quite some time.

But Angron remained where he was, motionless.

"We should go back." Crest walked towards Angron.

The next second an axe flew over and landed in front of Crest.

Crest was shocked. He thought that Angron also wanted to kill those who suffered the same fate as him.

But she thought otherwise when she saw the concerned look on Angron's face.

Angron bowed his head again.

The Maggot Eye flew in front of Angron.

"Mr. Angron Tark, please give us your opinion on the gladiatorial fight..."

Before the host could finish his words, Angron suddenly stretched out his hand and crushed the Maggot Eye.

When the audience saw this gifted gladiator crush the Maggot Eye, which was made of the same material as the Iron Man, the cheers suddenly stopped and then became more intense.

Angron raised his head, a ferocious and fierce expression on his face.

The Primarch pulled out the harpoon from his shoulder and threw it towards the audience seats in the distance.

The harpoon instantly crossed a distance of nearly a thousand meters and flew straight towards the audience, but was blocked by an invisible energy barrier on the way.

Angron drew his other harpoon from his shoulder and hurled it with the same result.

Far from feeling scared or angry, the audience cheered for Angron even more enthusiastically.

An alarm sounded, more piercing than the cheers of the audience that shook the arena. Ten security robots penetrated the invisible barrier and entered the battle area in an orderly manner, ready to suppress Angron by force.

“He seems crazy…” Crest took a step back, distanced himself from Angron, and subconsciously blocked Yochula behind him.

Qin Xia and Ono in the cave were watching Angron's reaction and guessing what he was thinking.

"He is furious." Ono was very nervous. "He shouldn't resist now. If he resists now, he will only be beaten by the security robot and unable to move..."

Qin Xia nodded, thought about it, and shook his head again: "He seems to want to do something."

As he spoke, Angron had already rushed towards the security omnic. The Primarch ran at high speed, like a terrifying beast.

Although he was still young, although he had not yet grown to his peak physical state, he was still a Primarch.

The first security robot had just raised its electric baton when Angron tore off its arms with his bare hands and smashed its head with a punch, causing an explosion.

In the flickering fire, the iron man's metal fragments pierced Angron's face, and his fists were cut by the metal, but these made him stronger.

The rage in the Primarch's heart burned like a star over Nuceria.

The words roared out in his heart were like fuel, making the anger burn more persistently and vigorously.

He didn't want to kill anyone.

He didn't want to be locked in the arena.

He wanted to run freely in the mountains.

But why is everything forcing him to kill and making him restricted in his freedom?

Those pointy-eared bastards who came to kill him when he climbed out of the amniotic fluid chamber, the slave-catching team that knocked him down with anesthetics and caught him, those who had to attack him because they wanted to survive, and those gladiators who had fought together before but became hostile to him afterwards...

Confusion, pain, powerlessness, these negative emotions will eventually turn into anger that needs to be vented. This is true for mortals, and it is also true for Angron.

The second security robot had its head pierced by its own arm.

The third security omnic was torn to pieces by Angron.

The other security robots were also unable to hold out for long before being smashed one after another by Angron.

But security intelligent machines are endless. When ten security intelligent machines are destroyed, a hundred will appear.

If a hundred of them would be shredded by Angron, though that was unlikely, a thousand were already on their way to the battle area.

If all the security robots are unable to stop Angron, even if this is simply impossible, there will be robots specifically used for combat that will be mobilized.

And the High Knights' Guards.

And... there are plenty of things on Nukeria that can suppress resistance.

The slavers enjoyed watching Angron get angry, for it was much more intense than the previous fight.

As Angron destroyed more and more security robots, his strength gradually drained away and his rage was no longer as strong as it was at the beginning.

The Primarch stood on the mountain of debris, about to crush the next omnic, when he was suddenly distracted by a strong emotion that had been affecting him.

This emotion did not come from Angron himself, but from the audience.

Excitement, appreciation, recognition...

The crowd's voices shook the arena, and their emotions flooded over Angron.

Angron gradually stopped his movements and looked towards the audience.

His arms went up.

It was like something was holding his hand.

Finally the Primarch raised his arms, raising them like a victor.

The cheers intensified, as did the positive emotions Angron felt, and he felt himself bathed in a stream of warm water.

But when Angron saw the red sand of the arena, his sanity gradually returned, and his eyes towards the audience were filled with hatred.

(End of this chapter)