The third, the fourth, the fifth…
The battle of attrition continued round after round.
The veterans took the field in turns, each fighting to the point of exhaustion.
Unfading clouds of dust began to swirl in the red sand gladiatorial arena, and the surrounding Space Marines breathed as heavily as broken bellows, yet they still advanced wave upon wave.
They were stalling for time; every extra moment they held out meant an extra point of hope.
And as Lancelot fought, he also realized that these guys before him seemed to be waiting for something.
If they regarded him as a traitor Primarch, what in the Warhammer universe could defeat Primarch-level combat power?
Grey Knights?
Adeptus Custodes?
Neither felt likely.
Combined with that stone stele and the slight traces of daily life he recalled seeing in that room…
a deduction naturally surfaced in Lancelot’s mind.
Could it be that the timeline of this Warhammer universe he had transmigrated into was actually the days when the Primarchs still walked the galaxy?
Was it 30K or 40K?
For some reason, Lancelot’s originally panicked heart settled down in an instant.
Upon understanding that Primarchs still existed in this world, his initial anxiety dissipated.
His current goal was actually very clear.
Just stall.
Stall until the Primarch arrives, and everything will become clear.
As a Primarch, the newcomer would surely be able to see through the fact that Lancelot was not actually his traitorous brother, let alone that Lancelot still held something akin to a trump card.
He still had the Emperor’s blood in his hands!
In this reversed universe, although the rebellions of the Primarchs were flipped, fortunately, the Emperor was ultimately still dedicating himself entirely to the Imperium of Man.
Lancelot thought this to himself, but his outward movements increasingly entered a state akin to flow.
Under this state, even though Lancelot never used the blade to injure and never aimed for vital spots, every single strike he made easily disarmed his opponent or knocked them back.
His level as a Ten-Thousand-Battle Veteran was fully displayed.
Although the black power armor on Lancelot gradually accumulated many scratches, Lancelot’s breathing remained steady and his gaze remained calm—as if this battle of attrition was nothing more than lifting a finger!
At that moment, the Crimson Angels also noticed Lancelot’s composure.
To them, the more composed Lancelot was, the less eager he was to escape, and the more anxious they became.
Perhaps worried that the “traitor Primarch” before them was brewing some evil Warp sorcery, an old, veteran warrior finally charged down and engaged Lancelot in combat.
Clang, clang, clang!
The power axes and power sword crossed back and forth for dozens of rounds.
Lancelot’s expression showed surprise as he once again parried the dual-axe-wielding crimson warrior before him, and then with a backhanded stroke of his sword, cleaved the opponent’s helmet in twain.
But even so, Lancelot saw absolutely no fear on the face beneath the shattered helmet; instead, it was filled with terrifying fury!
The dual axes swung in a whirling slash.
Lancelot wanted to repeat his old trick, just as he had dealt with his other battle-brothers previously, turning sideways to dodge the attack.
But this Crimson Angel before him seemed completely unlike the others, directly pouncing on Lancelot with an almost self-destructive posture!
Lancelot immediately frowned.
Caught off guard, he could only try to parry again.
Thus, the dual axes left two extremely distinct scars on his chest armor.
Lancelot also took the opportunity to try and press down on the warrior’s head, which the man forcefully dodged.
Left with no choice, Lancelot changed his palm into an elbow, smashing it into his opponent’s face and sending him flying.
But even after eating a blow from his elbow, this warrior, half of whose face was bloody red, showed no fear whatsoever.
He even took advantage of that momentum to forcefully kick out, striking the hilt of the sword Lancelot was gripping, causing Lancelot to involuntarily retreat dozens of steps!
“Interesting.
State your name.” Lancelot also became slightly serious.
The person before him finally gave Lancelot a feeling of being tricky to deal with!
This was presumably not an ordinary Astartes, but likely a renowned existence!
He flourished the power sword in his hand, while the person before him glared at Lancelot, planted his battle axes in the ground, and then tore off the power armor on his shoulders barehanded, exposing his burly muscles.
He then picked up the battle axes again and strode toward Lancelot!
“Hound of Chaos!
I am the Wrath of the Emperor!
Captain of the Eighth Company of the loyal Crimson Angels Legion!
For the glory of Angron!
In the name of Khârn, I shall destroy you!” The roar echoed through the entire gladiatorial arena.
Lancelot stood with his sword lowered, his calm expression somewhat difficult to maintain.
Lancelot also knew of this person, Khârn.
During the Siege of Terra, he could even fight to a standstill with the Emperor’s Champion of the Imperial Fists, the Sword-Saint Sigismund.
But for Khârn, who was Khorne’s mortal champion in the main universe, to actually claim to be the Wrath of the Emperor in this mirror universe—it was quite jarring from an observer’s perspective.
Yet there was no doubt that the Emperor’s Wrath, Khârn, in this mirror universe was obviously just as tricky as that Khorne champion in the main world.
Facing him, Lancelot finally felt an immense pressure.
The roaring power axes and Lancelot’s power sword continuously clashed.
Finally, there came a moment when the weapons in Lancelot and Khârn’s hands could no longer withstand the excessively fierce attacks.
The disruption fields attached to them resoundingly shattered under the final energy collision.
Subsequently, the energies crashed together and ultimately disintegrated, and the edges also collided, both suffering slight deformation.
Thump, thump, thump.
The impact of the energy caused the two to stagger backward from each other.
“Feels like it’s time to slip away.” Lancelot slightly felt his current limits.
Right now, his Combat Score was 95 points.
Fighting ordinary Astartes was probably a piece of cake, but going up against a renowned Space Marine like Khârn was still somewhat strenuous.
After all, as a hero unit of the Imperium faction, the script they hold always involves showing weakness in the early stages and making a comeback against the wind in the late stages.
Lancelot could already feel Khârn’s combat power growing stronger and stronger.
“Let us stop here.
There is no point in continuing.” Lancelot stopped and stood with his sword lowered.
But just as Lancelot was preparing to leave this world…
Right at that moment.
“BOOM——!!” A deafeningly loud explosion.
An arc of light fell from high in the sky like a meteor, smashing straight into the gladiatorial arena, instantly kicking up red sand and filling the air with smoke and dust!
In an instant, an extraordinary pressure that reigned above all things, akin to the descent of a god, swept through the entire arena like a tidal wave.
This pressure was as vast as a sea of stars, as heavy as the abyss, rising from the very genes themselves.
Lancelot’s gaze trembled slightly but instantly returned to normal, though awe still surged from the bottom of his heart.
He had arrived.
This universe’s version of the loyal Primarch had finally arrived.
And the manner of his arrival perfectly matched the weight a Primarch should possess.
A single person, breaking straight through the atmosphere from outer space and landing on the ground, without relying on the cushion of any landing craft.
The confidence to do so belonged only to a Primarch’s terrifying physique, which transcended the physical limits of the real universe.
Thump, thump, thump.
Lancelot’s heartbeat also quickened.
A Primarch!
A grand existence he could often only catch glimpses of in novels and games!
Now, he could finally catch a glimpse of his true face!
Thaniel_a_goodchild.