Chapter 191: Perturabo - "No..."
On Commorragh, Perturabo stood on a magnificent construction site, his gaze fixed on the colossal statue before him.
The statue loomed majestically, crafted entirely from rugged obsidian and a metal alloy. It was intricately carved, even reflecting light. It depicted him and Francis arm in arm, leaning against each other in a rare, incredibly intimate pose.
Ever since arriving at the Webway, Perturabo felt at home. Here, ninety percent of the whispers of Chaos were almost blocked entirely, and the pain in his mind caused by the Eye of Terror had greatly diminished. Here, he could finally get a good night's sleep, and he was no longer as irritable.
The surrounding Warpsmiths and Iron Warriors were carefully refining the statue's details. Perturabo watched quietly from the side, a smile gracing his lips.
Seeing this, all the Iron Warriors looked on with extreme terror, huddling together closely. One of them whispered urgently, "The Primarch is smiling! He's smiling!!!"
"By the Emperor, this is simply unbelievable!!" another exclaimed in shock.
The other Iron Warriors nodded frantically in agreement. Another Iron Warrior growled, "And the Primarch hasn't done an Eleven-fold Execution in a long time!"
"My heavens! Has the Primarch really changed his ways?" one asked hopefully.
The group whispered amongst themselves, quickly drawing Perturabo's gaze. He frowned and sternly reprimanded them. "If you're tired, rest. Don't disturb others! You all go rest for a day right now, and a new group will come to continue construction."
Upon hearing this, the Iron Warriors' eyes widened, gradually misting over with emotion. How could the Primarch be so good to them! How could they ever repay him!
"Father... we..." one began emotionally.
Though men bleed, they do not weep, yet at this moment, they truly felt a father's love.
Seeing their filial expressions, Perturabo instantly felt goosebumps and cursed loudly, "I see you're still full of energy! Get back to work!"
Hearing such a gentle punishment, the Iron Warriors happily continued carving, even more diligently than before.
Perturabo stared blankly. "???"
He gave them rest, and they became sad. He cursed them and made them work, and they were happy! He couldn't understand their thoughts at all.
However, just as Perturabo was pondering this, a strange vibration suddenly rippled through the air around them, as if some imperceptible undercurrent was spreading. Almost at the exact moment, a shimmering explosive suddenly shot out from the shadows, detonating with a piercing shriek.
Boom...!
The explosion's shockwave instantly reached the statue's base, causing the entire structure to shake violently. Metal fragments and stones rained down in heavy showers.
The Iron Warriors, who had been carving details on the statue, immediately prepared for battle as smoke and dust rapidly spread, obscuring all vision completely.
Perturabo's eyes snapped open, his face instantly turning grim. He whirled around and saw figures emerging from the thick smoke, the Kabal of the Black Heart, Vect's forces.
A group of Kabal of the Black Heart members, clad in dark armor and shrouded in shadows, swiftly appeared before the statue. Their gazes fixed on Perturabo and the statue intently.
The Drukhari had clearly not forgotten to reclaim their Dark City. The Kabal of the Black Heart members swiftly launched further attacks. Several heavy weapons aimed at the statue directly, and intense explosions followed one after another.
Just as Perturabo was about to react, one of Vect's heavy rockets accurately struck the top of the statue, directly shattering Perturabo's face on it completely. Obsidian and metal fragments scattered like fallen stars.
The brief smile on Perturabo's face vanished instantly.
Perturabo could almost feel his statue's face being destroyed at that moment, and his fury reached its peak. He stared intently at the ruined statue, his eyes overflowing with rage, his aura rapidly becoming heavy and oppressive.
"It's you again!" he roared furiously. "Iron Warriors, kill them all! Damn xenos, even more detestable than Chaos!"
Perturabo's voice was filled with unconcealed anger and suppression. He clenched his hands into fists, his knuckles cracking audibly. That anger was like a raging inferno, instantly consuming his reason completely.
The Kabal of the Black Heart members stood expressionless amidst the ruins, seemingly unafraid of Perturabo's wrath.
Vect's figure emerged from the smoke, standing tall, his hands clasped behind his back, a cold smile on his face. "You occupied our Commorragh, so how is it our fault?!" he said sarcastically. "Indeed, foolish monkeys!"
Perturabo's eyes were blood-red. He took a step forward, his eyes gleaming with cold killing intent, like a beast about to pounce on its prey. "What we need, that is ours!" Perturabo shot back.
"If you were driven out by monkeys, then aren't you even worse than monkeys? Useless rejects, that's all you are!" His voice was cold and threatening. He swung his hands, and countless flashes of fire erupted from his quad-linked wrist cannons.
Then Perturabo suddenly turned, the Logos instantly going full throttle, becoming a massive arsenal. Countless shells erupted from his body!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Seeing this, the Kabal of the Black Heart members were instantly stunned. They were known for their agility, but when they looked up, they saw an incredibly dense barrage of firepower bloating the horizon before them.
"Um, we're done for! There's no escaping it~." Before they could lament further, a whirlwind torpedo had already struck in front of them. At the same time, the other Iron Warriors all charged forward, roaring with immense fury.
"Clad in iron, hearts of steel!" they bellowed.
"Damn xenos, you dared to provoke our Primarch! If you want to die, don't drag us into it!" another shouted.
"Exactly! We absolutely cannot let off the bastards who pissed off the Primarch!" yet another roared.
"KILL THEM ALL!" they cried in unison.
Seeing the Iron Warriors in such heroic states, a hint of confusion appeared in Perturabo's eyes. He felt as if his warrior sons were even angrier than he was, each one fighting as if they had a death wish.
However, this was not a small-scale assassination but a large-scale invasion.
Ferrus, who was also building in Commorragh with him, rushed out as well, commanding the Iron Hands Legion in battle.
The Drukhari forces began to fall back. However, halfway through the fight, Ferrus ran over and shouted to Perturabo, "I see they're already retreating in defeat. I'm taking a portion of our forces to leave here for a bit, and leaving some behind with you to continue building Commorragh."
Perturabo looked at him in disappointment and confusion. Who leaves in the middle of a battle to do something else!
"No! You—" Before he could finish, Ferrus had already rushed out with half of the Iron Hands.
Perturabo fell silent. "..."
Left with no choice, Perturabo seized the opportunity to call Khan.
Peru Peru~
After a long while, the call connected, and Khan's unique grassland voice came through. "Hello~"
Hearing his incredibly relaxed voice, Perturabo roared, "Jaghatai Khan! Where the hell are you? Did you not go after the Drukhari? How come they're counter-attacking Commorragh, and you're still not back!"
After a long pause, the other party spoke again. "The wind has no fixed direction~."
"Motherf—! Speak plain Gothic! Did you eat too much grass from your dirt planet? Why is it so hard to talk normally for you!" Perturabo roared furiously, while firing countless beam cannons as if there was no tomorrow, rapidly smashing into the Drukhari Reaver Jetbikes.
"Um, Truth to be told, brother, I... got lost!" Khan admitted sheepishly.
Instantly, Perturabo's weapons jammed. He stared blankly, recalling what the other party had said, and finally cursed loudly, "I'm gonna..."
...
Meanwhile, aboard the Abyss Howl...
Thump-thump-thump~
Each of Ferrus's steps was like a heavy war drum, announcing that he would personally end this history of betrayal and pain. His heart was incredibly excited, or perhaps enraged.
He entered the Abyss Howl, where the air inside the ship seemed to congeal, echoing with the roar of machinery and the occasional distant whispers.
Sarpedon stood in front, leading Ferrus through the layers of metal corridors towards where Fulgrim was confined.
"The Primarch said he has a way to save Lord Fulgrim; however, the method is somewhat... unsavory," Sarpedon explained carefully. "So when you see the Clone Fulgrim later, don't be alarmed. That's also part of the Primarch's plan."
Sarpedon's voice was deep and hoarse, as if squeezed from deep within his throat. Then he explained Francis's method to Ferrus, who felt it was a tall tale; he didn't believe in gods in this world. However, this put Sarpedon in a difficult position, as standing next to an enraged Primarch carried a certain inherent suppression.
They stopped before a sealed chamber. He led Ferrus to a heavy steel door inscribed with ancient runes and intricate chain patterns. The surrounding walls exuded a chilling sheen, and the air was filled with an indescribable sense of oppression.
"Fulgrim, the one who was once my brother, shall pay the price here today," Ferrus growled softly, his voice erupting from his iron chest, muffled and full of anger. In his eyes, this was betrayal. This was a profound betrayal; the other party had failed him completely. It was unforgivable.
Squeak, squeak, squeak~
The moment the door opened, they heard Clone Fulgrim's roar.
"Look at how ugly you truly are! Look at your body, can it still create beautiful works of art? Do you deserve Ferrus? Have you forgotten your vows?" Just as Clone Fulgrim was speaking passionately, Ferrus walked in.
The three exchanged glances, instantly falling into a very subtle atmosphere. Sarpedon shrank his neck and quickly walked out. The pressure inside was almost suffocating him.
Clone Fulgrim struggled to suppress the admiration and joy in his eyes for Ferrus. He stepped aside. He deliberately stepped back, leaving space for the two of them.
Ferrus looked at the pale-faced Fulgrim with four arms and a snake-like tail, and immediately landed a punch, creating a shockwave that hooks the entire chamber. He hit him directly in the face again and again, dozens of times in a single second, roaring with bloodshot eyes, "Look at what you've become! Damn you! Why didn't you just die in battle on the Great Crusade!"
Fulgrim, having taken the punch, showed a hint of sorrow in his eyes, but his body twisted very honestly, constantly moaning softly.
[End of Chapter]