Forced to die just after becoming invincible in Warhammer?

But even so, the enemies continued to pour in like moths to a flame.

Fortunately, his brothers and sisters and the rebels could barely keep up with his pace of killing and attack, fighting alongside him to fight against the surging enemy.

Angron's eyes, which had once been deep and profound, were now dyed red with blood and madness.

In this fierce battle, he keenly captured the various emotions emanating from the enemy - fearlessness, dread, terror... These emotions intertwined together, like a catalyst, making him kill faster and faster, and his attacks more and more ruthless.

Every time he swung his sword, he was filled with endless anger and strength. He would use the blood of his enemies to pave a path to freedom for himself, his brothers and sisters, and all the oppressed slaves.

Killing, continuous killing.

In Angron's world, there was only the cold gleam of swords, the screams of enemies, and the splattering of blood.

In this endless killing, a strange whisper seemed to come from another mysterious world, traveling through endless time and space.

The voice penetrated his ears, beckoning him: "Kneel down, submit, and serve your new master."

Angron's brow knitted into a knot, his eyes flashing with undisguised disgust and determination. How could he possibly serve a new master? This absurd request sounded like a pipe dream to him.

He was a warrior fighting for freedom, a pioneer who dared to resist oppression. In the sands of the arena, he relied on his tenacious will and extraordinary martial arts to win glory and the respect of his brothers and sisters who fought alongside him, making him their most trusted little brother.

Now, the images of their bloody battles together kept resurfacing in his mind, further solidifying his inner conviction. He would never, ever again, kneel before anyone and become someone else's vassal.

Every time he swung the blade in his hand and reaped the life of the enemy, he could clearly feel that his heart was constantly drawing power from anger.

It comes from the long-standing oppression and the extreme desire for freedom. It is like an inexhaustible source, providing endless power for Angron's battle.

In this brutal baptism of battle, Primarch Angron had already begun to gain a preliminary and superficial understanding of his own abilities. He could sense that his power was constantly transforming and growing as the battle continued. He was no longer a gladiator fighting only on instinct, but a rebel who truly controlled power and destiny.

Chapter 255: The power sword was stopped by flesh and blood?

At this moment, Angron was like a bloody god of war. The skills he had honed in the Nuceria Arena were displayed to the fullest in his hands. Every swing of his sword revealed astonishing precision and dexterity.

"Brother, you have been bragging about your army. It's time to show it off." The big slave owner said with a hint of threat, and the iron man beside him also began to look at the big slave owner with a look of contempt.

The slave owner gritted his teeth and said, "Okay."

He was very reluctant to let go, these were his elite soldiers!

You should know that more than 50% of the Nucerians did not collapse and die immediately after being hit by the Butcher's Nails.

The slave owner's army had butcher's nails implanted in the heads of their soldiers. Originally a tool used by the stone men to assist with healing and control machinery, it had become a cruel amusement for the slave owner.

This horrific practice spread wildly in Nuceria. Any slave who displeased the slave owner would be nailed to the butcher's nails.

The Butcher's Nails ruthlessly drove the implanted people to the battlefield, the rage in their hearts piling up without limit, and the entire army was like a mad and violent beast that had lost its mind, desperately and fearlessly charging towards the rebels led by Angron.

For a moment, death was everywhere on the battlefield, blood flowed freely, body parts were splattered everywhere, and the Primarch wielded his weapons. Everywhere he looked, there was a scene of hell on earth.

Eerie whispers lingered like a maggot: "Kneel! Allegiance, loyalty, honor, blood, skull..." Each word, like a mind-corroding magic, constantly assaulted Angron's mental defenses. He needed an inhumanly strong will to barely resist this invisible erosion.

However, even in such a mentally torturous predicament, he had no room to retreat, because in reality, the slave owner's minions were watching covetously, eager to crush him and his companions.

At this moment, Angron single-handedly bore the vast majority of the attack from the slaver's minions. He knew clearly that if he slacked off even a little, those ferocious enemies would unleash even more fierce firepower on his companions, brothers and sisters.

Therefore, he had to grit his teeth and persist, continuing to resist. Even if his body and mind were under unimaginable pressure, he had to stand firmly at the forefront.

At the same moment, across the vast expanse of space, three Queen of Glory-class battleships emerged from the mysterious warp like giant beasts piercing the darkness. Behind them was an endless fleet, the densely packed shadows obscuring a vast swath of the starry sky. The cold gleam of metal shone, demonstrating a formidable deterrent.

"Huile, when will your Queen of Glory-class battleship be completed?" Leman Russ asked curiously, with some anticipation for his sister's powerful battleship.

"My Razor of Truth, if you need it, I can give it to you." Zhuang Sen said seriously, with an unhesitating generosity.

Such a generous statement made even the usually calm Aurora's eyes flash with envy.

After all, it is truly astonishing to have such strong financial resources to build or deploy such a super battleship.

"No need." Hui Le shook her head gently and rejected Zhuang Sen's kindness, "You don't have to worry about me." In fact, she was still thinking in her heart, "Maybe someone will be soft-hearted and give her her silver battleship", but she didn't say it out loud, but just silently hoped in her heart.

Jonson nodded in understanding, then changed the subject: "Our brother's homeworld hasn't responded to us. We've just sent thousands of communications, but they haven't answered. It's time for us to board them. Everyone, please be polite, especially you, Leman Russ. You must make a good impression on our new brother."

Leman Russ curled his lips, no longer surprised by Zhuangsen's ridicule.

In an instant, the vast sky was dotted with densely packed airdrop pods, falling rapidly towards their target like a shower of meteors.

These drop pods carry vital forces - the Primarch and his honor guard.

After all, this was their brothers' homeworld, a place of immense significance. As Primarchs, they knew the importance of their homeworld to themselves and their brothers, and they also understood that their every move could affect their brothers' reputation and prestige.

Therefore, they were extremely cautious on this trip, determined to appear in the most appropriate manner, give their brothers enough face, and demonstrate their deep friendship and respect for this mother planet.

The heavy iron boots stepped heavily on the red sand, and the "crunching" sound came one after another, traveling far in the silent environment.

The honor guards of each Primarch were well-trained and gathered around the Primarch at a dizzying speed. They stood tall, their eyes alert, and exuded a murderous aura, perfectly interpreting their duty to protect the Primarch's safety.

Zhuang Sen glanced around, his expression calm but with a hint of majesty, and said, "There is no one living around here now. All we can see is red sand. Moreover, I asked my guards to land first and go to the city to explore. There is no one inside. You can imagine that it will take some effort and time to find our new brothers. But no matter what, everyone must remember the etiquette and don't let our new brothers think that we are a group of barbarians who don't know the rules." When mentioning the word "barbarians", Zhuang Sen deliberately emphasized its importance.

Aurora and Huile almost couldn't hold it in, but still nodded.

When the others heard this, they nodded in understanding, their eyes revealing tacit understanding, as if silently promising to keep Zhuang Sen's advice in mind.

Iris, the person Angron considered his sister, once fought a desperate battle with other gladiators in the arena, leaving him gravely wounded. On the brink of death, Iris, disregarding her own safety, like a nimble night owl, stole herbs for Angron and returned food to him, right under the slave master's nose.

Only then did they pull him back from the brink of death.

At this moment, after a long and brutal battle, her physical strength was completely consumed like a dried-up deep well.

His legs were shaking and his body was shaky, as if he would be swallowed up by this ruthless battlefield in the next second.

Although the rebel soldiers noticed Iris's predicament, they were unable to cope with the enemies who were rushing towards them like a tide. They waved their weapons non-stop, but still could not stop the enemy's offensive.

Angron's sharp eyes caught this scene. The Primarch's tall body instantly burst out with amazing power, like an unstoppable war machine, rushing towards Iris.

The enemies who tried to stop him along the way were like fragile dolls under his powerful impact, with blood and flesh flying everywhere, turning into pools of blurred meat paste.

In the blink of an eye, Angron rushed to Iris's side. He stretched out his free hand and picked up Iris steadily. His movements were gentle but powerful, as if he was protecting a rare treasure.

Iris's breath was weak, and every word she uttered seemed to have exhausted all her strength: "You shouldn't have saved me. I'm a burden now. I will only distract you and make the efforts of the entire resistance army go to waste. Let me go." Her eyes were full of despair and self-blame. Looking at her companions fighting bloody battles around her, her heart was full of guilt for dragging everyone down.

When Angron heard this, anger burned in his chest, and he swung his sword even faster. Every swing was filled with endless killing intent, and the enemies fell before him one after another.

The other hand held Iris tighter, as if to use his arms to shield her from all dangers from the outside world.

"I will never let you go!" Angron roared, his voice drowning out the roar of fighting on the battlefield. "Just like when my life was hanging by a thread and you risked everything to save me. Back then, when I asked you why, you said: I saw the longing for freedom in your eyes, the same longing I have. To be free, we must be free together. To die, we brothers and sisters must die together!"

The rage in the Primarch's heart was like a raging tsunami, crashing against his sanity wave after wave.

He hated this cruel battlefield, hated the enemy's madness, and hated the powerlessness he felt in protecting his companions.

This anger was even hotter than the rage of those poor slaves who had been implanted with butcher's nails and lost their minds. It drove him to charge across the battlefield, vowing to fight a bloody path for his loved ones and for all those who pursued freedom.

Iris was dying, her lips trembling slightly as she murmured, "I'm of no use now." Her voice was as soft as a candle in the wind, which could go out at any time.

When Angron heard this, the anger in his heart seemed to be poured with a bucket of oil, burning even more fiercely.

On the battlefield, he was like a demon from hell, wielding his sword with impenetrable speed, almost impossible to grasp with the naked eye. Every time the blade sliced ​​through the air, the gust of wind it stirred was terrifying. Whenever it touched an enemy, it instantly shattered them into pieces. Blood splattered all over his body, adding a touch of terror to his aura.

"No, sister!" Angron roared, slaughtering his enemies frantically. "You have done so much behind the scenes for the uprising! Gathering intelligence, passing messages between gladiators, and uniting the oppressed, you are indispensable. And during the great slave uprising, you organized the female slaves to gather supplies for the rebels and carefully cared for the wounded. Without you, our uprising would not have made it this far!"

The Primarch's words were filled with unquestionable determination, and every word was like a heavy hammer, hitting Iris's heart.

"We want freedom. We must live without it, or we'd rather die! But to me, you are even more important. Without you, Oinomaus, Ono Mamos, Cassius, Mano, Iris, and so many companions who fought alongside me, even if I achieved the freedom I longed for, it would still be like living in hell."

Angron fought hard while shouting at the top of his lungs, each word filled with his deep affection for his companions. On this battlefield filled with blood and death, this friendship seemed particularly fervent and precious.

On the battlefield, the atmosphere of death and destruction permeated the air. The scale of the massacre was beyond imagination. Corpses piled up like mountains and blood formed rivers. This land, once stained red with the blood and tears of the oppressors, was now witnessing a brutal fight for freedom.

A Dark Angel, like a hungry beast, savagely grabbed a man on the roadside and devoured him, gaining access to his memories and instantly learning of the terrible events unfolding there. He quickly hid himself, cautiously exploring, and soon discovered the Primarch, who was surrounded by numerous enemies.

The Dark Angel surveyed the battlefield situation and secretly assessed his own strength.

Without any hesitation, he decisively launched the flare into the sky.

In an instant, a dazzling light broke through the haze, and everyone present noticed this signal.

The four Primarchs and the honor guards of the four legions also noticed it immediately and rushed towards the source of the signal without hesitation.

"My Lord Primarch, I have come to rescue you," the Dark Angel shouted, causing Angron to look at him.

The Dark Angel suddenly raised his grenade launcher, the chainsword buzzing in his hand, and exuded a fearless fighting spirit. He threw himself into the fierce battle like an arrow from a bow. The roar of the grenade launcher and the sound of the chainsword cutting flesh and blood were intertwined.

He rushed into the enemy group, dancing wildly with the chainsword in his hand, and tried his best to carve a bloody path to meet the new Primarch.

However, to his surprise, when he tried to forcibly cut the enemy, the teeth were stuck in the enemy's tough flesh and blood, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not break free.

The situation was critical, so he made a quick decision, quickly took out the bomb and threw it out with force. With a loud "bang", the air wave generated by the explosion temporarily drove back the surrounding enemies.

Taking advantage of this brief gap, the Dark Angel pulled out all his strength, drew out the power sword, quickly broke away, and arrived at the edge of the battlefield in the blink of an eye.

At this moment, he no longer understood how there could be such a powerful enemy?

His own chainsaw sword could be clamped by the opponent's flesh and blood. Even the Ran Dan alien at that time did not have such a strong body.

At this moment, Zhuang Sen arrived in time. Standing on a high vantage point, his eyes were as sharp as an eagle, and he could see the entire battlefield situation.

Behind him was a group of battle-hardened and experienced Dark Angels. They all had firm eyes and exuded the calmness and dominance that came from having gone through countless battles.

Jonson's gaze fell on Angron, and a strange feeling quietly surged in his heart.

As the Primarch, the subtle blood connection between Angron and him was faintly stirring, as if there was an invisible force pulling them together.

This connection grew stronger on this cruel battlefield, and Jonson began to think that these untouchables dared to treat his brothers like this.

They deserve to die!

Without hesitation, Jonson activated his power sword. With a humming sound, the molecular field activated, and the blade shone with a cold light. He led his honor guard and rushed into the battlefield like a tiger descending from the mountain, aiming directly at his brother Angron and rescuing him from the siege.

Wherever the power sword passed, the enemies were like fragile pieces of paper, easily chopped into pieces, blood splattered, and broken limbs scattered all over the ground.

The Honor Guard following behind him was no less impressive. They worked in perfect harmony, swinging their weapons continuously. Every attack was precise and deadly, quickly tearing a hole in the enemy group.

The Dark Angel, previously trapped, now rekindled his fighting spirit and rejoined the fray. Wielding his bolter and the chainsword he had finally freed, he charged through the enemy horde. The roar of his bolter and the slashing of his chainsword mingled with the attacks of Jonson and his men, as they all charged towards Angron, attempting to free him from the encirclement.

Chapter 256 Encounter, Killing, and Gathering

"That big guy who led so many troops actually called Angron his brother. Big slave owner, in my opinion, we should stop fighting and negotiate with them!" The speaker was a fat-headed and big-eared slave owner. He was calculating in his mind. After all, in this battle, his men suffered the most casualties. If he continued to fight, he would lose all his wealth.

The great slave owner's gaze was as cold as a torch, sweeping across the group before him, filled with disdain. He said in a deep voice, "Do you think peace talks are possible under the current circumstances? Angron's rebels have suffered heavy losses. Will he willingly sit down and negotiate with his brother and us?"

The fat slave owner, however, didn't care. He stiffened his neck and said confidently, "Of course! Put yourself in their shoes. Who would be happy to watch their men and those around them die? They're definitely looking forward to reconciliation."

The great slave owner was speechless for a moment, his face filled with helplessness. He couldn't understand why this fool had fallen into the inertial mindset of competing for power and profit with other nobles and slave owners.

Do you really think that Angron is the kind of vulgar slave owner who would greet his enemies with a smile and drink happily for the sake of profit even if his parents and brothers and sisters were all dead?

Absolutely ridiculous!

Didn't you see how mad Angron was on the battlefield?

While everyone was arguing, a dozen gorgeous butterflies floated over like colorful petals.

They were light and graceful, with the patterns on their wings gleaming with strange light in the sunlight. They slowly landed on the shoulders of each slave, as if looking for a warm place to rest.

"Oh my God, such a beautiful butterfly! Even in Nukeria, this species is extremely rare." The slave owners looked at the butterfly on their shoulders with their eyes full of obsession and murmured. For a moment, they even forgot the tense atmosphere around them.

But the slave master's heart tightened, keenly sensing the potential danger. His expression suddenly changed, and without a word, he turned and hurried away, quickly summoning two iron men to guard him closely. The iron men's heavy footsteps seemed particularly abrupt in the silence.

Almost at the same moment, the slave owners suddenly looked terrified, their hands tightly grasping their throats, their faces full of pain and struggle, their limbs swinging wildly, as if their fate was being strangled by an invisible pair of big hands.

After a short moment, they all collapsed to the ground, breathless, leaving only deathly silence.

"You're quite alert, wild dog." An ethereal voice suddenly rang out, and Hui Le's figure slowly emerged. A mysterious glow seemed to linger around him, and there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes. "But, no matter how alert you are, what's the point? In the end, it's just the difference between dying sooner or later."

"A psychic? But it just so happens that my iron man is equipped with an anti-psychic program." The big slave owner suppressed his inner fear, pulled a confident smile at the corner of his mouth, and immediately gave a decisive order, asking the two iron men beside him to take action to capture the mysterious guy in front of them. The iron man's metal arm swept through the air, making a buzzing sound.

Hui Le just stood there quietly, with an indifferent expression. There seemed to be a faint halo surrounding his body, making him look mysterious in the sunlight.

When the iron man's arm attacked with a whistling sound, it seemed to fall into the void and penetrated straight through, as if Huile in front of him was just an illusory phantom, without any real obstruction.

"What a stupid piece of trash!" Hui Le's face showed an expression of extreme disdain, his eyes full of contempt, and his voice was icy cold. "This crude mass-produced iron man dares to compete with me? It's simply a foolish dream!"

As soon as she finished speaking, purple lightning swirled and surged between Huile's slender fingers, making a crackling sound like the roar of a caged beast. She gently raised her hand and casually pointed at the great slave owner in front of her. The movement seemed gentle, but it carried an endless sense of oppression.

In an instant, a dazzling bolt of lightning, like a lightning spear falling from the sky, carried with it the power to destroy the world, shot out at lightning speed.

The slave owner didn't even have time to let out a scream before he was instantly swallowed by the terrifying thunder.

In just a moment, his body turned into a pile of ashes floating in the air. Blown away by the breeze, it disappeared without a trace, as if he had never existed in this world.

"The soul was summoned? Or was it attracted away by something?" Hui Le couldn't help but frown. As the original body, she had an extraordinary keen perception.

At the moment when the slave owner took his last breath, he clearly felt that the guy's soul seemed to be forcibly pulled away by a mysterious force. Or perhaps, this was a life-saving backup plan set up in advance by the slave owner.

After a brief thought, Hui Le shook his head and put the doubt aside for the time being: "Forget it, let's transform these two iron men first."

After she finished speaking, she slowly raised her hand, and spiritual energy surged around her, causing ripples in the air.

The iron man, who was originally so imposing, suddenly stopped, as if he had been cast into a spell of immobilization. His movements were frozen in mid-air, and his metal body shone with a cold sheen under the sunlight.