Warhammer: My buddy has too many secrets!

Chapter 158 Enlightenment (1/5) Requesting monthly votes!

When the green vegetation that shouldn't have appeared on the battlefield of Armageddon suddenly appeared before the Ravenwing scouts, many of the Dark Angels even adopted a wary stance.

Fortunately, the leader of this team was a Deathwing veteran who had recently formed the Dark Angels Return Order. After learning of the situation, the veteran of the Return Ring quickly intervened in the battle.

They had personally experienced their encounter with Lancelot; they had entered the Shadow Forest, and the moment the familiar green vines appeared before them, all the members of the Ring of Return were thrilled.

This undoubtedly indicates that their genetic father has once again inspired them, and that their actions are on the right track.

So the dark angels immediately rescued the burly man covered in knife wounds. After freeing him from the vines and removing his tattered armor, the dark angels realized just how strong the man was.

He was more imposing than anyone else, even those wearing Terminator power armor were not as tall as him. Lying beside him was only a broken sword, and there was nothing on him that could prove his identity.

But his over 4-meter-tall body was truly eye-catching, and his entire body was covered with indescribable knife wounds, which were mixed with burns and spread all over his face, making his originally incredibly heroic face unrecognizable.

No one knew the origin of the person they rescued, but the knights of the inner ring believed that since it was the Primarch's doing, this person's identity must be extraordinary.

Could he be a Primarch?

This idea did not come into the minds of the Dark Angels.

The reason is quite simple: just being tall doesn't qualify someone as a Primarch. After all, there are a large number of cyborgs and mutants within the Empire's territory, and simply being tall doesn't make one a worthy Primarch.

Moreover, every Primarch possesses a unique aura, a sense derived from their genes, which no Astartes could mistake.

However, the man before them did not give the Astartes that feeling.

Even so, this tall man was enough to command the respect of the dark angels, because, upon examination by the apothecary, his wounds were entirely new ones covering old ones; even the most brutal tortures could not adequately describe what this man had endured.

Even after suffering such injuries, his vital signs remained stable during testing, a terrifying vitality that surprised the pharmacist.

During the medical device testing, the man's mental fluctuations seemed to suddenly become more active, and the Dark Angels knew he was about to wake up.

As the storm swept through, the man felt as if he were being carried by vines and crashed headlong into a sun with an extremely cold light. He felt as if everything about him was dissolving into the sun's icy flames, like sending a piece of pig iron back into a furnace for tempering.

Many memories seemed to be lost at this moment; the only thing he could remember was that he was extremely angry.

Amidst that rage, a memory remained: a twisted, four-armed serpent demon slaughtering its offspring and people.

This anger was so profound, as if it were etched into the depths of his soul! In such deep hatred and rage, he seemed to have passed a test; his body was not completely incinerated, but instead, he followed the vines to a certain place.

"Go to search, go to remember, go to cherish the memory—only then can you return, my brother."

The words stopped at this last sentence, appearing in his mind before disappearing, leaving only a vague concept. But even this concept reminded him of those who fought for the serpent demon—

Who are those people?

Their bodies were almost entirely made of steel.

Their spirits roam on the edge; what is it that causes them pain and sorrow? What is it that they are angry about?

And so, at that moment, the man before the Dark Angel opened his eyes.

The man opened his eyes and looked at the group of people in front of him. Seeing the conspicuous shoulder armor on their bodies, he almost blurted out their identities.

"Dark Angel?!"

The veterans of the Ring of Return fell silent. For this man, almost all of his memories had been burned away, but when he saw this group of dark angels, they were pieced together from his memories like fragments.

A flood of memories suddenly rushed into his mind; those were also of Dark Angels. To outsiders, Dark Angels were dull and...

Mysterious warriors, cold in attitude and serious in demeanor.

In essence, they seem to be completely drawn to rituals and prayers, and are governed by an impenetrable command structure.

They rarely consult with their allies, and although they are quick to offer assistance to the Empire's cause, wherever their ruthless conquests take them, they may abandon a battle midway for reasons they refuse to reveal to anyone.

They may persist with some strange strategic choices, and if rejected, they may become hostile—yet they are also the Emperor's sharpest blade, facing the unknown and terrifying aliens of the galaxy—

How did I know who they were? But they didn't seem to be the people I was looking for.

The man only felt a headache.

"Who are you?"

The dark angels asked a question, and the man shook his head. One of the Ravenwing members brought up a broken sword, and when the man saw the broken sword, he was silent for a moment.

He seemed to have regained some of his memory; he recognized the sword as his weapon, but he still hadn't forgotten his name. After taking the broken sword, he uttered a single sentence: "I need tools to reshape it."

"Then you might need to come with us."

"No—I'm not looking for you—you probably have things to do too—I just need some fuel, I need to do some things on my own."

The man shook his head.

"Leave him the fuel to rebuild his weapons; we should go."

The Deathwing Knights in the inner ring made an incredibly decisive judgment; they would not stop for this man.

These dark angels now also bear the mission of delaying the Primarch's advance.

Normally, they might focus more on this man, since he was personally sent by the original body and might be hiding some deep secrets.

But the situation is different now. Since it's unclear where the count of the 13 fair victories against the wolves began, some internal...

The Ring Knights believed that this encounter with the Space Wolves in the Amegidodton region was something the Primarch had foreseen long ago.

Therefore, the Dark Angels believed that victory in this battle could also be recorded in their winning streak, so the veteran soldiers threw themselves into the battle with even more focused enthusiasm, striving to achieve even greater results than the Space Wolves.

This conjecture was solidified when they found the man in the desert, and as battle reports came one after another from the wolves, some knights in the Dark Angel's inner circle were already getting anxious.

Upon learning that the man did not appear to be traveling with them, the Dark Angels acted swiftly, leaving behind only a communication and locator device, some supplies, and fuel for forging the blades before quickly departing the area.

The man stared at the broken longsword in front of him.

In his memory, the sword seemed to have broken once before, and this time its breakage seemed to have given him another chance.

He also took a deep breath.

Looking at his hands, he seemed to know by nature how to cultivate, how to avoid danger, and how to forge. Now, he seemed to have a rage burning within him, and all he had to do was vent it. Meanwhile, in other areas, the space wolves also encountered an unexpected reinforcement.