Warhammer: My buddy has too many secrets!

Looking at Lancelot on the field, the Crimson Angels were actually on high alert.

The target of this trap was indeed, as Lancelot had suspected, the Emperor's abhorrent traitor, the corrupt Primarch of the First Legion, the slave of the God of Deception, Leon the Blue-winged Lion King, in this inverted world.

Therefore.

The crimson angels looked at Lancelot with unwavering eyes.

Even though Lancelot didn't possess the aura of a Primarch at all, in their eyes, it was all just a disguise of that mysterious fallen Primarch.

They believed that the trap set by their Primarch would surely capture the behemoth of Caliban's schemes, since everything was perfectly in line with the Primarch's expectations!

Because if the traitor Leon is indeed lured here and falls into the trap, then he will behave just like Lancelot is doing now!

What? You're saying you're just an ordinary dark angel?

How did you manage to sneak past everyone's senses to get to this place, and even have the audacity to investigate the secrets between the Primarchs?

This must be the cunning Leon transforming into a regular Astartes!

At that very moment, Thunderhawk transport ships carrying crimson angels arrived at the spectator stands of the arena. A force field as white as mithril descended, sealing the entire circular arena into a prison isolated from the world.

Warriors outside can enter and participate in the duel, but to leave, they must defeat everyone in the arena!

Moreover, the gladiatorial combat will be limited to melee, all ranged weapons will be rendered ineffective, and even the disintegration field of the power sword will be suppressed to a level only slightly sharper than ordinary iron!

The veterans of the Crimson Angels are on high alert.

This is a battlefield for a desperate fight, and also a place for procrastination.

Everyone stared at Lancelot before them, their battle instincts telling them that this seemingly ordinary-looking black-armored warrior was terrifyingly strong! This further convinced them that Lancelot was the disguised Primarch!

Despite knowing that their opponent was the former Primarch of the Legion, one of the most powerful war gods in the galaxy, not a single member of the Crimson Angels retreated.

They're going to drag it out.

Their strategic goal at this moment is very simple: to delay!

The reason for adding the one-on-one restriction when designing this arena trap was to buy time. The only thing the Crimson Angels responsible for guarding this place had to do was to stop the Fallen Primarchs from entering the trap through gladiatorial combat.

Their mission is to stall until their legion leader, the emperor's loyal son, arrives, until the power to punish the fallen arrives! Even at the cost of their lives, they will trap this traitorous, fallen lion king within this small arena!

This is troublesome...

Lancelot glanced at the growing number of red-armored Astartes around him and immediately raised his hands:

"My brothers in arms! Is there some misunderstanding? Does the Imperium currently have a Primarch in command? I need to speak with a Primarch!"

Lancelot said this, but no one in front of him took Lancelot's seductive words to heart. Instead, they thought that Lancelot was just stalling for time!

Upon discovering this intention, a warrior wearing a golden laurel wreath, wielding a longsword and a storm shield, and looking like a company champion, strode towards Lancelot.

Within the force field, some mechanism seemed to have completed its assessment, and the red sand seemed to have automatically cleared a circular area, allowing Lancelot and the Crimson Angels' company champion member in front of him to engage in a one-on-one duel!

Boom boom boom!

His heavy footsteps slammed into the red sand, sending debris flying. His longsword glowed with a faint blue light, and he moved like an arrow, charging towards Lancelot with his shield.

He held nothing back; every move was a sharp killing blow. His sword was aimed straight at his heart, his slashes were fierce, and his thrusts were cunning. He was fighting for his life!

Lancelot was forced to raise his longsword to parry the attack from the company champion before him.

Undoubtedly, the opposing company, as the face of the unit, is responsible for killing high-threat enemies in one-on-one combat.

Those who can become team champions all possess top-tier Astartes-level combat power.

Even so, the Guardian System's bestowal of Lancelot the appearance of a seasoned veteran allowed him to adapt to the opponent's attacks with remarkable ease.

With a combat score of 95, Lancelot far surpasses the average company champion. According to the tabletop rules, 300 points is already at the Primarch level. Lancelot has now at least crossed the level of a common soldier and reached the level of a hero.

Therefore, when facing the sword's edge, Lancelot merely shifted his body slightly, moving his feet to the side in a small manner, yet he was so fast that he left only a faint afterimage!

By the slightest margin, he deftly dodged the fatal blow from the company champion in front of him. The blade grazed his armor, sending up only a string of sparks, without even touching his flesh.

Before the veteran could finish his move, Lancelot flicked his wrist and, using only the spine of his sword, precisely struck the wrist guard on the opponent's wrist where he was holding the sword!

"clang!"

A crisp sound.

Its force is as heavy as Mount Tai, yet it can be controlled with ease.

The veteran felt a sharp pain in his hand as an irresistible force surged into his palm along the hilt of his sword, instantly numbing his hand. The precision of this force caused his power sword to fly out of his hand with a clang. Lancelot then kicked out fiercely, sending the veteran flying.

The process was not fast, and was even somewhat slow.

To a Primarch, even the most powerful Astartes are nothing more than slightly larger ants.

But at this moment, the company champion who was kicked away only felt short of breath and had a tightness in his chest. He knelt on one knee, looked at the power sword in the distance, and reached out to touch his chest.

In his own mind, his defeat was perhaps expected, but he never imagined that the consequences of his defeat would be so minor.

Normally, if someone were kicked like that, the armor on their chest should have caved in completely, and they should have been critically injured and on the verge of death in an instant.

But in reality, nothing happened; he was sent flying by Lancelot with precise force.

Some things don't make sense.

How could someone trapped in a trap be so composed? Logically, his immediate priority should be to kill everyone present and escape from this cage, but the being in front of him did not do so.

Either this was within his expectations, or he was absolutely certain that he could escape from here!

Thinking this, the second Crimson Angel, wearing Terminator armor, immediately stepped into the arena. Without the slightest hesitation, his power gauntlets were instantly charged and he swung them towards Lancelot with a whooshing sound!

Lancelot once again nimbly turned to dodge, and the next moment, the sword techniques flowing from his hands—slashing, chopping, parrying, and thrusting—became even more ruthless!

The Terminator veteran gave it his all, his hydraulic joints working at full speed, his movements as fast as a ghost, but no matter how he attacked, he couldn't even touch a corner of Leon's clothes.

As the battle progressed, Lancelot's fighting stances became nothing short of art.

Without any superfluous movements or violent exertion, every dodge was precise to the extreme, and every parry was just right. With a light tap of the sword spine and a slight turn of the wrist, he could easily deflect all of the opponent's force. He was like an immovable mountain, standing firmly in place no matter how fiercely the crimson angel attacked him.

The warriors of the First Legion are masters of swordsmanship. A veteran of ten thousand battles is not just a description of seniority, but more importantly, his individual combat ability has reached the pinnacle of a typical Space Marine!