Forced to die just after becoming invincible in Warhammer?

A look of satisfaction appeared on Horus's face.

He knew very well that this loyal son in front of him was not without complaints towards him.

But in his opinion, what does this matter?

Thinking back to the days when he was in a gang in Cthonia, even though he was the Primarch and exuded an innate and powerful charm, there were still some stubborn thorns.

Even if they are forced to surrender under their overwhelming force, deep down they are still unwilling to truly obey.

In such a situation, Horus had plenty of solutions. He would skillfully tie up those troublemakers in the name of the gang.

After all, in a gang environment, individual interests are closely tied to the collective's fate. Once separated from the group, many protections and resources are lost. This forces even the most stubborn of gang members to compromise for their own survival and development.

And the same is true for Loken now.

Horus knew that Loken was devoted to the Luna Wolves, so he made a request in the name of the Legion, using the Legion's future, honor, and responsibility to bind Loken to himself.

In Horus's eyes, Luo would definitely give his all for the legion regardless of his personal gains and losses.

……

Hui Le's iconic iron boots stomped heavily on the desolate surface of the planet, raising a cloud of dust.

This land has just witnessed a breathtaking battle, in which two legions joined forces to completely wipe out the entrenched Necron dynasty.

Now, the smoke of war has dissipated, replaced by a strange tranquility, and in this tranquility, a special bonfire party is being prepared.

"I really don't understand why you have to drag my legion into this bonfire party," Hui Le said, subconsciously exerting force with his iron boots, and an innocent stone under his feet was instantly crushed to pieces.

"The Legion of the White King's Sons has never had such an event. They don't like it at all. And do you know how much pressure this will put on logistics?" There was a hint of dissatisfaction in Hui Le's voice, and he was obviously very resistant to the arrangement of this bonfire party.

Aurora, however, looked serious, a rare expression. She responded earnestly, "But they need to relax. After such a brutal war, sitting around a campfire with their surviving comrades, congratulating themselves for surviving another day, cheering for the honors they've earned, and even showing off their achievements in front of their comrades—what could be more relaxing than that?"

"Oh my God!" Hui Le became instantly agitated when he heard this and kicked the boulder in front of him angrily.

With a dull thud, the huge stone was vulnerable to the terrifying power of the original body and instantly shattered into pieces, with debris flying everywhere.

"But in the end, I have to take care of all the budgets and bear all the costs!" Hui Le couldn't help complaining, waving his hands in the air, as if this could dispel the depression in his heart.

"Hmm." Aurora snorted softly, deliberately avoiding Hui Le's angry eyes and looking towards a corner of the desolate planet in the distance, as if there was something there that particularly attracted her attention.

"What the hell is 'hmmmm'?" Hui Le was completely enraged. She stretched out her hand angrily and grabbed Aurora's hand with such force that it seemed as if she wanted to vent all the dissatisfaction in her heart through this pull.

In her opinion, this guy in front of her not only added so much workload to herself for no reason, but also greatly increased the legion's material consumption. It was really infuriating and helpless.

She stared at Aurora closely, her eyes full of questions, waiting for her to give a reasonable explanation.

"Think about it!" Aurora said, gently patting the back of Huile's hand, trying to calm her down. "What is the First Legion like? Every time you award your descendants with medals symbolizing honor and merit, are their eyes filled with envy and jealousy? They also desire these honors, but Zhuang Sen either doesn't notice or doesn't care."

"Look at your Legion. Don't they envy the relaxed and joyful atmosphere of the Second Legion's bonfire party? And you just heard how Mortarion slandered you behind your back. After all the trouble you've been through, you should take this opportunity to relax and unwind!"

Aurora's face was full of smiles, as sweet as honey, and she tried to use this trick to dispel Huile's anger.

She held Hui Le's hand from time to time, her movements gentle and regular, as if she could get away with it that way.

"Hehehe." Hui Le raised the corners of his mouth into a stiff arc, making a rhythmic laugh, but there was no smile at all.

This laughter made Aurora's heart skip a beat and her scalp inexplicably tingled.

After all, all the expenses for tonight's bonfire party had to be borne by Hui Le alone, and it was arranged without her knowledge.

Suddenly, there was a fluctuating cheer from the side. The sound instantly entered Aurora's ears. She seemed to have grabbed a life-saving straw, her eyes lit up, and without thinking, she forced to change the subject: "Listen, there are warriors dueling, and a group of people are cheering. Come on, let's go join in the fun!" As she said that, she didn't care whether Hui Le was willing or not, she directly grabbed her hand and walked towards the direction where the sound came from.

Aurora pulled Hui Le and hurriedly arrived at the duel scene in a short while.

The battlefield in the distance was surrounded by soldiers from the two legions in three layers, and shouts and cheers broke out from the crowd from time to time.

The two Primarchs cleverly concealed their auras and quietly watched this wonderful battle.

"Who do you think will win in the end? In my opinion, it must be my Blackmay. He is the most outstanding warrior in the Second Legion!" Aurora's face was filled with a confident smile, her eyes fixed on Blackmay in the center of the battlefield, and her tone was full of pride and optimism for the warriors under her command.

"Aurora, this isn't a cricket fight. There's no need to take your offspring's victory or defeat so seriously." Huile folded her arms across her chest, her chin slightly raised, a nonchalant expression on her face. But she knew full well that Mod's physique was incredibly strong, with top-tier indicators across the board, especially his astonishing psychic resistance, which made him an impenetrable fortress on the battlefield.

However, his opponent, Bramena, was a veteran who had fought in hundreds of battles. He had followed the Emperor closely in his campaigns and participated in countless brutal battles for the unification of Terra. He had rich combat experience and a calm and composed mentality.

In Huile's opinion, although the outcome of this battle is full of suspense, Braime has a great chance of winning due to his experience, and the answer seems to be self-evident.

Mode was tall and burly, standing at least three meters away. He carried the two-meter-long machete steadily on his shoulder. The blade gleamed coldly in the dim light, as if telling of the countless blood it had drunk.

Every step he took was accompanied by a strong sense of oppression, and the ground beneath his feet seemed unable to bear the weight, making a dull sound.

Braimai, on the other hand, was relatively thin, yet exuded a restrained edge. The sword in his hand gleamed with a cold light, its blade slender, and the delicate runes on it seemed to whisper of mysterious power.

Braime's eyes were focused and calm, closely watching Mod's every move. His steps were light and steady, moving slowly along the edge of the field. Every step seemed to be measuring the battlefield, looking for the best time to attack.

The two of them walked back and forth at the edge of the venue. The air around them seemed to be frozen by their momentum. The tense atmosphere was like an invisible net, covering everyone present.

The surrounding warriors held their breath, staring intently at the impending clash, afraid of missing any exciting moment.

Mod didn't have the patience to continue the stalemate. His already impatient temper became even more unbearable, as if there was a fire burning in his chest.

With a roar, he took the lead, raised the long sword high with both hands, drew a sharp arc in the air, and chopped it down fiercely.

The blade rubbed violently against the ground, instantly sending up a string of sparks and leaving behind deep and long knife marks. The sharpness of the knife was so frightening that if someone was hit by it, they would probably be split in half in an instant.

Not only that, this knife was wrapped in Mod's whole body strength, heavy as a landslide or tsunami, and carried an unstoppable momentum.

Braimer, a veteran who had participated in many major battles in the Terra Unification War, faced Moder's fierce attack with a calm expression and no fear.

He knew in his heart that he was no match for Mod's in a pure contest of physical strength. Taking the blow head-on would undoubtedly be like hitting a rock with an egg.

Just when the long sword was about to fall, Braime flashed like a black lightning and dodged to the side nimbly.

At the same time, the sword in his hand stretched out quickly, and the tip of the sword hit Mod's blade with incredible precision in an instant.

This attack seemed light, but it contained a clever force, which just happened to deflect Mode's powerful sword strike in an instant, and most of its force was also removed.

Chapter 285: By the Bonfire (5k)

The echoes of the Warp swirled over the scorched earth, and the Astartes warriors of the two Legions stood like black iron statues.

The squeezing sound of their power armor knuckles mixed with the hum of the reactor, and even the rusted remains of the Star Language Relay Station under their feet resonated - this was an art of war far beyond mortal cognition. The energy afterimages bursting out of genetically enhanced bodies weaved a star-like death totem under the shattered sky.

Braimer's power sword tore through the air's cover, and the dark blue arc of light was like a rift tearing through the subspace.

The opponent's raised power sword hummed and chopped down. It was a god-killing weapon forged by the Primarch himself. The dark patterns flowing on the axe blade were swallowing and spewing chaotic energy.

When the powerful force of the muscle carrier collided with the cutting force carried by the sword, the shock wave of the metal collision shattered the gravel within a hundred meters, and the flying sparks cast a fleeting aurora on the dome, as if the galaxy was collapsing in the palm of your hand.

"The vibration frequency of the Eleventh Legion!" A voice came from Carl's throat.

Before he finished speaking, the hilt of the knife emitted a scream that tore through the sound barrier.

Sparks flew from Braimer's ceramic steel armor, and the muscle memory forged countless times in life and death suddenly activated.

The trajectory of his spin and leap seemed to coincide with that of the star, and the tip of his sword strangely crossed the Klein bottle topological path, pointing directly at the reactor interface of the opponent's power backpack - the most vulnerable hub of any Astartes armor.

The crowd of spectators gasped in response to metallic friction, and even the battle-hardened veterans of the Dawnbringer leaned forward slightly.

"This isn't a duel." Karl's eyes reflected the thousand-degree heat waves at the heart of the battlefield. The energy field where the axe and sword intersected was distorting. "They are replicating the original's game..."

His words stopped abruptly.

Mode used the hilt of his sword to cross the enemy, and the recoil force generated by the power system of the reinforced bones and ceramic steel armor actually clamped the tip of Braimer's sword tightly.

The two forces bestowed by the Primarchs collided, and the concrete ruins within a ten-meter radius crumbled like snowflakes.

The aftermath of the energy swept through the ruins like an invisible wave, and even the reinforced soles of the Astartes warriors trembled and rubbed against the ground, producing sparks.

Hui Le nodded slightly in the shadows. The unique legion emblem on her shoulder armor was flowing with dark blue runes, which was a subspace mark that even the Forging General did not have.

A voice wrapped in psychic energy and metallic texture overflowed from the throat, shaking Aurora's power nerve bundles to emit fine electric currents: "Karl, there is someone in the Second Legion who dares to claim to be comparable to the Primarch?" Hui Le raised his hand and lightly touched the visor of the helmet. The crystal surface where his fingertips brushed reflected the afterimage of the battlefield - Braimer's sword and Mod's axe blade were twisting into a halo.

Aurora's red eyes, inherited from her mother, narrowed slightly. Her palms unconsciously stroked the power crystal of her sword, the gilded lines humming softly from the pressure of her knuckles. "But the gap between a Primarch and an Astartes is as immeasurable as the distance between the Astronomican and the Eye of Terror."

Hui Le's psychic energy suddenly surged, and the wreckage within three meters of the pillars crumbled under the invisible pressure. Amidst the rustling sound of falling gravel, she drew out her words, "If these two cubs..."

Before he finished speaking, the warp energy had condensed into scarlet lightning in the dome. Its pressure made the warriors within a radius of one kilometer unable to even perceive the changes in the sky.

She is proving what she said.

"...If you can survive ten minutes under my sword, I will immediately hand over the leadership of the Legion to you and forever bear the title of the weakest Primarch.

The high-pitched whistling of power weapons echoed from the battlefield. Braimer's blade grazed Mod's visor, sending sparks cascading into the crevices of Mod's power armor, like a flash of light in the darkness.

Huile's gaze penetrated the turbulent energy and accurately locked onto the two combatants - the depressions in Braimer's shoulder armor were embedded with slag from the Martian city walls, a medal from the Terra Unification War; the beating of the simulated Primarch's heart in Mod's chest emitted a faint glow, and the enhanced blood flowing in his veins was streaked with red gold.

"So what if I'm infused with the blood of a god?" Hui Le flicked the gravel off his shoulder with a flick of his finger. His movements carried the unique rhythm of a Primarch, and the sound of metal clashing was as crisp as the strings of a harp. "It's just three more blows heavy enough to shatter my gene-seed."

The warp behind her rippled, and the legion's emblem, wrapped in lightning, vaguely emerged.

The two Astartes, their legion emblems stained in blood, were locked in a life-and-death struggle. The distorted afterimages from the energy field made it difficult for the Space Marines of their own legion to capture them.

Their figures were like intertwined dark wings, and the power swords and power knives repeatedly overlapped in the quantum shadows, and every intersection splashed out blue energy sparks.

Only the shrieking sound of weapons tearing through the void roared on the battlefield, nano-scale blade marks seeped into the gaps in the power armor, and the burns left by the psychic sword and the wounds torn by the chainsaw teeth spread across the genetically enhanced body.

The splattered blood droplets hovered on the battlefield, reflecting the scarlet murderous intent in the eyepieces of the helmets of both sides.

"Stop them! It looks like they are really angry." The legion emblem on the shoulder of Aurora's power armor trembled slightly in the aftermath of the battle.

Huile's response was mixed with heavy breathing: "Yeah."

The Primarch's psychic energy oozes a red-gold glow from his body.

Aurora's iron boots suddenly spewed out red-gold flames, and her figure turned into an afterimage, tearing through the air.

When three sonic boom clouds exploded in the center of the battlefield, her power fist had already clamped the energy blade of the power sword tightly; the other hand grabbed the energy blade of the power knife, and the twisted psionic field condensed the blade into a liquid light stream.

The two Astartes who were fighting fiercely were knocked to one knee by the sudden force, and the flying debris was crushed into powder by Aurora's force field barrier.

"Okay, stop for a moment! You're all almost dying of blood." Aurora's helmet popped open, revealing her angular face.

The opposing warriors finally loosened their genetically enhanced fingers that were gripping their weapons.

The surface of the power armor was covered with spider-web-like cracks, liquid plastic steel was still dripping from the gaps in the chainsaw sword, and the energy core of the power sword emitted a humming sound as if it was on the verge of overload.

Dark red blood oozed out from the broken joints and gathered into a suspended blood mist in the zero-gravity environment, staining the legion emblems on their shoulder armor dark brown.

Hui Le's psychic field quietly enveloped the battlefield, but the psychic energy also mixed out, and the wounds under the armor of the injured soldiers glowed faintly - those sword marks deep enough to see the bone were being covered by new muscle tissue at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Aurora's power armor was covered with gilded patterns, and the Primarch's unique psychic pressure turned into a gentle halo that enveloped the entire venue: "You are all great." She tapped her knuckles against the double-headed eagle emblem on the breastplate, and the damaged power armor made a humming sound as it reassembled in the dim light.

He turned to face the Astartes standing solemnly in the ranks, his gilded cloak sweeping across the charred battlefield floor. "My son—" The Primarch suddenly flicked his finger on the nearest warrior's shoulder armor, causing his bolter to click softly. "This bonfire party is not for you to use your chainswords as skewers."

A suppressed hum of laughter echoed through the formation, and several tactical sergeants quietly replaced their sheathed power weapons with roasting forks.

When Aurora turned and left, the pharmacist of the recruit squad was secretly stuffing mars mushrooms into the back of my own company captain's power backpack, while the think tank director Hui Le had set up an automatic barbecue grill, and the psychic field wrapped in grease was sizzling on the iron mesh.

Flames swirled and rose from the core of the bonfire, and orange-red tongues of fire licked the night sky.

Even as a Primarch, Aurora could feel the scorching warmth—not unbearable, but rather as if she were enveloped in the Legion's heroic spirit. Even the sparks that seeped through the cracks in her power armor carried the familiar scent of gunpowder and pine resin.

Aurora took off the power sword engraved with the legion emblem from her waist. After the energy blade was extinguished, the matte sword body shone coldly in the firelight.

She deftly threaded the entire genetically enhanced giant beast rib onto the sword, and a slight cutting sound was heard as the sharp blade penetrated the flesh.

The bonfire suddenly burst into indigo flames, as if greedily devouring this gift.

The grease dripped onto the charcoal pile and exploded with a crackling sound, and the aroma of meat mixed with the smell of warp rust remaining on the sword rose up.

The Primarch flicked the sword guard with her finger, and the vibration caused the skewers of meat to flip over, making the double-headed eagle emblem on the shoulder armor of her power armor flicker.

Hui Le leaned against the barrel of her newly modified bolter cannon, and the psychic runes on the power armor shoulder armor flickered in the light of the campfire.

Forle knelt on one knee, the apothecary emblem on his shoulder armor still stained with blood from the battle, and was putting the data tablet into the biochemical bag at his waist.

"Mother, that's all the report." Fore looked at the Primarch, waiting for her response.

Huile raised his hand to signal him to stand up, his knuckles unconsciously rubbing the energy core of the power sword: "Oh, by the way, what do you think of Mod?"

The young commander, forger, and psyker's Adam's apple moved, and the metal dentures gleamed coldly in the firelight: "I don't like this warrior."

"Liking him or not is one thing, we should just look at the facts." Hui Le turned and stirred the bonfire, sparks splashing in the cracks of her armor like solidified blood beads. "His gene seed has a wild resonance, which is not a flaw."

Ripples appeared in Fore's tactical visor, evidently as he accessed his memory files. "He's too brutal. During last week's combat drill, he tore apart a training Dreadnought with his bare hands. Although he's a quick learner, with swordplay and strategic deduction scores in the top 3% of the Legion, but..." He lowered his voice, "Yesterday's servitor maintenance records at the supply depot showed he used his chainsword as a can opener."

"Like the Space Wolves?" Huile suddenly laughed out loud, the vibration causing the mechanical skull pendant on his cloak to jingle. "Remember, child—those wolf cubs can gnaw on raw meat in the warp storm, but our Mord can at least build a fire.

Huile tapped the cooling grooves on the barrel with his fingertips, the Librarian runes on the power armor's shoulder armor flickering in the firelight. "But you did remind me that Moder might not be suitable for our Legion. Leman Russ once sent a special message mentioning him. The Wolf King is very fond of this child and wants to invite him to join the Space Wolves as Captain of the 11th Company."

For stared at the dancing sparks in the bonfire, and tiny sparks flew when his teeth clenched. In the end, he just swallowed the unspoken words back into the biochemical lungs behind the power armor mask.

"Go have some fun with your brothers." Hui Le raised his hand and patted the young pharmacist's shoulder armor, making the potion tubes he was carrying jingle. "It's hard for you to deal with military affairs on Bonfire Night."

Forle knelt on one knee and performed the legion salute. The friction sound of the power armor joints mixed with the laughter of the soldiers in the distance.

As he turned around and blended into the light and shadow, the hem of his cloak swept across the ground, startling a few clusters of crispy roasted Mars mushrooms - those were the "fruits" of the recruits' previous prank, and they were now rolling in the scorched earth with their footsteps.