Warhammer: Empire Reboot

"Ryan!"

"Haven't you always considered yourself the emperor's executioner?"

"Now, the traitor is in your fortress."

"I have no demonic power, no immortality, and no divine protection."

Fugrim spread his arms: "All that's left is a bleeding, dying body and a sword."

The smile returned to his face, but it looked almost distorted.

"Isn't this exactly what you wanted? A fair duel, to kill a brother who betrayed the Empire, to bring his head back to Terra, to proudly place it before your comatose father's golden throne, and to prove to everyone that you, Ryan Eljonsson, are still his sharpest blade."

His echo still lingered in the passage.

The smile on Fogrem's face finally vanished completely.

He suddenly swung his sword.

The sword light tore open all the walls around the hall.

Metal fragments flew into the air but stopped just before hitting the ground. The ground rapidly flipped, dragging the broken structure below, and new walls rose from the darkness.

A few seconds later, the hall returned to normal, and the mirror even reappeared in the middle.

In good condition.

Fugrim stood in front of the mirror.

"Ryan!"

He shattered the mirror with a single sword strike.

"Get out here!"

"You coward hiding in the shadows!"

"Haven't you always wanted to kill me?!"

"I'm right here!"

The sword blades fell continuously, causing the walls to crack and then rapidly heal under the control of the fortress.

Fugrim no longer maintained his stance.

His silver hair lay disheveled against his face, the muscles beneath his pale skin were taut, and the longsword in his hand grew heavier with each stroke.

He was like a wild beast locked in a transparent cage, unable to see the hunter, yet clearly aware that he was being watched.

This is what he finds most unbearable.

He crossed half of the Eye of Fear, abandoned his mission, and risked real death to enter the fortress.

All he wanted was a perfect duel. His opponent, Ryan, wasn't even willing to show himself.

"Look at me!"

Fugrim's roar echoed far and wide along the labyrinthine passages, carrying a hint of pleading that even he himself was unaware of.

"Ryan! Look at me!"

Inside the command center, on the massive monitoring screen, Fugrim was frantically destroying everything around him.

Lion King Ryan Aljonsen sat expressionlessly on the commander's throne.

Forgrim was right, he could see.

Ryan watched the figure crashing through the maze and whispered, "Forgrim, you've been targeted by the Marksman, so you can't go back."

…………

The longsword in Forgrim's hand fell again.

The sword's edge tore through the wall, leaving a smooth gash tens of meters long on the black armor.

A few seconds later, the passage in front of them returned to normal, and even the crack that had just been cut disappeared.

Fugrim stood still, his chest rising and falling slightly.

"Ryan!"

"Get out here!"

There was no response, only echoes coming from different directions.

Ryan...

Ryan...

come out……

come out……

Fugrim whirled around and slashed his sword behind him. Just as the blade was halfway down, a crack suddenly appeared in the wall.

A tall figure walked out from behind the door.

The newcomer was over four meters tall, wearing a set of dark gold body armor without any decoration, and his face was extremely handsome.

Mastiff-05 also held a sword in its hand, the blade of which was straight.

Fogrem fell silent and sized up the stranger in front of him.

An extremely strange sense of familiarity surfaced from the depths of his body.

There exists a connection between the Primarch and his offspring that cannot be fully replicated by technology.

Even if separated by a planet, even if the other party wears sealed armor and has changed their appearance, the Primarch can still recognize their bloodline from the echoes of the Geneseed and the essence of the Warp.

But Fogrem felt nothing from Mastiff-05.

The other party's nature in the subspace is completely different from his.

However, the angle of the spine when the Mastiff-05 stands, the natural downward movement of its wrist when holding the sword, and the almost perfect power generation structure between its shoulders and hips felt strangely familiar to Fugrim.

It's like looking at a mirror with a replaced mirror surface; the shape is similar, but the reflection inside isn't yourself.

"who are you?"

Mastiff-05 points its sword at the ground.

"Imperial Guardian, Mastiff-05".

"Guards?"

A smile returned to Fogrem's face.

"Ryan doesn't dare come out, but sends a watchdog to see me instead?"

Mastiff-05 glanced down at the sword in its hand.

"The boss said you're suitable to be my swordsman."

Blackrock Fortress Command Center.

The Lion King placed his hands on the pommel of a longsword, his gaze fixed on the passage where Fugrim and Mastiff-05 were located.

Lawson stood beside him, while the other seventeen guards were scattered around the command platform. Their massive bodies made the originally spacious hall seem somewhat crowded.

The Lion King stared at Mastiff-05 for a long time.

What is his relationship with Forgrim?

Lawson made no secret of it: "A body created using a genetic sample from Fogrim."

The Lion King paused for a moment: "The Primarch?"

"Not entirely."

Lawson looked at the screen.

"The uniqueness of the original is never just about its genetic structure."

"When the Emperor created you, he not only shaped your bodies, but also infused them with a unique subspace essence. That part is the source of your connection with your genetic offspring."

"The body of Mastiff-05 is indeed derived from the template of Fugrim, but the source that supports this body is the pure subspace energy that I injected."

"There is no soul of Fugrim inside, nor is there the portion of the divine fire belonging to the Emperor."

“His genetic father is me, not Fugram.”

The Lion King then realized that Mastiff-05 possessed the physical characteristics of Fugrim, but was not a bloodline extension of Fugrim.

He is a completely new branch that grew from another source.

The Lion King shifted his gaze from Mastiff-05 to the other seventeen guards in the command hall, his eyes showing a strange expression.

"Does this contain my genetic sample?"

Lawson laughed heartily: "Not for now. You're one of us. If we want to clone your gene sample, we'll have to get your consent first."

The Lion King paused for a moment, then said, "We'll talk about that later."

Er Gou lowered his voice from behind.

Does this mean he only partially agrees?

San Gou glanced at him.

"Shut up, watch Fifth Brother fight."

In the passage...

Foghrim made the first move, his longsword already in front of Mastiff-05.

The sword did not pierce the face, but instead swept along an extremely subtle arc towards the area below the right eye of the Mastiff-05.

If Mastiff-05 had reacted a little slower, Sword's Edge wouldn't have killed him, but would have left irreparable scars on that handsome face.

Mastiff-05 raises its sword to parry.

The two longswords clashed for the first time.

Ding!

However, the blade of the Mastiff-05 deviated from its original position at the moment of contact.

Instead of pressing down head-on, Fugrim's force slid along the point of contact between the blades to the side, pulling on Mastiff-05's wrist.