Chapter 104 Iron Warrior Battle: Imperial Fist
The hatred and anger that lasted for thousands of years roared in Danat Lysander's two hearts.
The blood was pumped out and sent to the strong and powerful muscles, driving the electronic synthesis reinforced muscle bundles to produce higher output through the black shell and nerve connection points.
The power hammer in his hand was called the Fist of Dorn. It was almost half the height of the Space Marine. The fist cast in the shape of an iron glove held its silver-white shiny hammer head. The power cable extended from the bottom of the iron glove to the back of the handle. The leaping force field always shone on the attack part of the entire hammer head. This legendary weapon came from the legacy of the previous captain on the battlefield. It was worthy for Lysander to use it to smash the chest armor and skull of any Iron Warrior.
He lifted the hammer handle and swung the hammer head in a beautiful and deadly arc in the air. The balance of this hammer was perfect. In the hands of a legendary hero like Lysander, holding the hammer with both hands made every swing of it incredibly exquisite.
The first swing was right in the first wave of the attacker's power axe. Two giants wrapped in tactical dreadnoughts roared and collided with each other. Their heavy armor scraped against each other, making sharp and piercing noises and sparks. The ground seemed to vibrate because of their movements. The force fields on the two weapons made a hissing neutralizing sound in every collision and impact.
"I will pull you out of this rotten and smelly twisted iron shell and cut you into pieces!" Although his nose and sensors told him that the Iron Warrior War Blacksmith opposite him, who had killed most of his elite brothers in the former First Company and made him experience countless experiences that would drive mortals crazy with just a little bit of it, was emitting a pleasant fragrance.
Disgusting Fallen, the twisted cognition again, or worse.
He thought, when I chop off his head, I don't even want his dirty blood to splash on me.
Opposite him, the sweat-stained face of the warsmith Shantuo was occupied by an extremely twisted and extremely happy smile. The heavy power axe in his hand was shrouded in purple mist, as flexible and swift as the serpent-like rapier of the champion swordsman - it can no longer be called a serpent, because it has a more deadly huge power and self-weight, perhaps the best portrayal of it is a poisonous dragon.
"Then I am looking forward to it, Lysander. You and I, oh! We are so similar, I have heard about some of your recent movements," the warsmith of Malodarax, whose strong limbs swung the axe blade at a speed that almost brought a small sound barrier in the air, chuckled opposite him, "In order to win, you must do whatever it takes. Those lackeys of the corpse king died because they believed in you. How does it feel to be able to sacrifice anyone?" He laughed again, "Don't worry, I won't care about the past, Lysander! Join us!"
The Imperial Fist responded with an even more angry charge and an increasingly fierce offensive. His hammer head flashed a little red light, and he wrestled with the purple axe.
"Wishful thinking, blasphemous and vile thing!"
Once again, they collided with each other, sweat steaming, they only had each other in their eyes, only allowed each other to be, only wanted each other to fall, only wanted each other's head, the gods were high above, shouting in ecstasy, the duel between each other, the Iron Warrior and the Imperial Fist.
They are so similar, like the positive and negative of a tarot card.
They are so similar and so distinct, every evenly matched collision is like a hammering, black and white are hammered and tempered, and finally a fatal beautiful pattern appears on the blade of the weapon.
Suddenly, the war blacksmith didn't know why, maybe he was too happy before and applied too much spice oil on one of his joint servos--
In short, he staggered and revealed a fatal flaw in front of the captain.
"You can only get your death!"
Dorn's fist whistled down towards the head of the Iron Warrior.
Lightning claws broke through the shadow.
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[That's it? ]
[That's it. 】
【This was too fast to recover, although Soltarn had arranged a large margin for the opponent's strength for each of them except their captain. 】
【Otherwise? How else do you think we can fight? Why do we have to play tricks when we can use superior strength to strike directly? Combat requires speed and effectiveness, not anything else, such as unnecessary viewing. In addition, although he saved the scene, it was the first time I saw someone use the Raven Guard to hold the monitor for live filming. 】
【Well, live filming has a more immersive learning feeling... Apart from this, I thought that at least the environment and psychology should be done with incomprehensible chanting sentences and cruel, dark and gothic language...】
【Don't learn those bad habits of pointy ears, who taught you? By the way, it's okay to raise some half-blooded bunnies. If you dare to raise something with pointy ears on my ship, I will dissect it alive and make it into a monster and throw it into the place where this pointy ear came from. 】
【Make it into what? 】
【Grotesque, strange shape, or some people call it human pig, but I suggest you call them grotesque. 】
"Hey! My dear furry brother - the commander and my very deceitful commander, what are you whispering about? Don't exclude me!" The thin mortal youth who was sitting on the leg armor of Ramizane holding a staff and watching the monitor shouted dissatisfiedly.
"Oh, Maatra, nothing, I just said that I felt a bit... how to say, using a butcher knife to kill a chicken? Also, I have a bad feeling, so I decided to ask you before looking up the LOGOS."
"I've said it before, my psychic refraction spell combined with the steel mechanism movement function can solve most of the traps and split-up problems. Soltarn has designed this maze very ingeniously in such a short time. - So what's the problem?"
"I want to know what the Grotesque is?"
"Oh, this thing, it's an artificial monster weapon made by a special kind of person among the group of pointy ears. This kind of person is usually called a blood argot. If classified, it can be barely regarded as a dark Aida, although I don't completely agree with this statement, after all, some of them..."
"Oh, wait, their leader is starting to encounter our people." While Ramizane was peeling sweet almonds for the psychic consultant and throwing them into his honey jar, he stuffed some small crispy nuts shaped like human brains into Perturabo's mouth.
"Oh, oh, oh! I understand a little bit. In terms of viewing, besides the dense gun battle, this kind of close combat is really powerful!"
[Don't always mention viewing-sometimes you really make me doubt what your relationship with that purple-skinned snake-tailed slut is. ]
[... Is that what you call him...]
[I can immediately use twenty different languages to describe his current appearance in a more obscene and unpleasant way. Do you want to hear it? ]
[... No, thank you. ]
"What are you talking about again?" The green-eyed consultant who was chewing candied almonds propped himself up dissatisfiedly, and grabbed the metal grid under the heavy neck armor of the fourth primarch with his hands to pull himself up a little more. The cuffs of his robe slid down to his elbows. Maatra didn't care about this. He just stood on tiptoe and tried to get close to the head device of LOGOS to see what communication device his brother installed in it that he couldn't crack.
"Nothing, uh," Ramizane leaned back slightly as if he was not used to the psychic consultant's presumptuous behavior. "Let's continue to watch all the situations above."
"Okay, if you say so."
The psychic consultant turned around and sat down in his arms again, because there was only one most suitable place to watch, and there was a throne suspended in the air above.
The blood-colored brilliance splashed from the projections of every brave and unfortunate Imperial Fist warrior projected from the giant 360-degree spherical sky dome added a bit of warmth to the nuts in their hands.
Quack.
Wow, there are a lot of things to do on New Year's Day, everyone should have a good sleep first!
Oh, since you have questions, I'll just say it by the way
The planet they are going to has actually been named, and after they go there, a new volume should be opened in January. This planet was originally a transition, mainly in the later part. At least according to the plan, the map is changed very frequently, because I don't want to make up for GW's damn span and rationality every day...