"Horus, what, are you afraid? Too scared to come face me?
"You traitors who willingly became slaves to the Dark Gods, are you just going to keep hiding? Come duel me!"
Rogal Dorn was brimming with confidence and battle fervor.
His roar echoed through the region, then spread outward, shaking the hearts of all who heard it.
The Lord of the Bastion had directly issued a challenge to Horus, the Dark Emperor.
More importantly, he did not seem to be provoking Horus alone, but all of the fallen Primarchs as well.
He was one line short of telling everyone present they were trash.
Empowered by the Redemption Armor, Dorn felt no fear whatsoever for the battle to come.
If anything, he was eager for it.
The armor his elder brother had given him was simply too powerful. He wanted to know just how terrifying its performance would be when brought fully to bear.
Today, he would take on every Chaos traitor by himself.
Before long, under amplification from the armor's vox projectors, Rogal Dorn's taunts spread into other sectors.
???
The Lord of the Bastion's suicidal challenge left many Chaos beings who did not know the situation utterly baffled.
How the hell did that guy dare do this?
He was challenging the Dark Emperor and all the chosen champions of Chaos at the same time!
"What courage," a greater daemon of Khorne said, eyes wide, unable to suppress a trace of admiration.
Even the Blood God's fiercest warriors would not charge in that hard.
Horus was a being who had gravely wounded the Cursed One. He was the mightiest of the Primarchs and had received the shared blessing of all the Chaos Gods.
That was a favor and patronage not even a chief greater daemon had ever received. Beneath the gods themselves, there was no one stronger than him.
Perhaps only that gravely wounded supreme Bloodthirster, now shut away in seclusion, could stand against him.
And the other chosen of Chaos, the fallen Primarchs, were themselves legendary beings in both material space and the Warp, each capable of unleashing vast disasters.
Every one of them was at least as strong as the Lord of the Bastion, perhaps stronger.
After all, among the Primarchs, Dorn was not especially famed for his personal combat power. He had struggled even to defeat the fallen Phoenician, Fulgrim, in a duel.
And now, by his own words, he intended to face all of them alone?
It was utterly absurd.
The Chaos beings did not believe Dorn could defeat Horus, the Dark Emperor. If he managed to beat one or two of the chosen of Chaos, that would already be his limit.
"Our gene-father... since when did he become this powerful?"
"By the Savior...
"Gene-father is challenging the traitor Horus and all the Chaos Primarchs? Is that real?"
It was not only the Chaos side. Even the Imperial Fists in other sectors were stunned when they heard the challenge.
It was too outrageous. Too far beyond common sense.
The Imperial Fists did not know exactly how strong Horus and the fallen Primarchs were.
But they knew how strong their gene-father was.
If he dueled Horus and all the other traitors at once, his odds of victory were vanishingly small.
It would be a merciless gang-beating, and their gene-father would be in terrible danger, very likely to die in that duel.
"My lord is doing this for the Imperium... for us."
An Imperial Fists captain had tears welling in his eyes, his voice trembling.
"He means to sacrifice himself, to draw all the enemy fire and buy us more time."
Hearing that, the Imperial Fists felt a wave of grief.
When the other Imperial defenders learned of it, their respect for the Lord of the Bastion rose even higher.
That lord truly was the Imperium's final wall.
For a time, warriors across the Imperium sent their respect toward the Lord of the Bastion, almost like a collective eulogy.
Then, with even firmer resolve, they turned to face the Chaos enemy rushing toward them.
Fight to the death. Never retreat.
...
Clang!
At one core defensive line, the shield wall formed by the Custodians was smashed apart by a massive hammer strike. The frontmost Aquilon Shield Custodians were reduced to pulp inside their armor.
That terrifying black daemonic form had just broken straight through the Custodian line.
Even with the Sisters of Silence disrupting the enemy's foul powers, the Custodian warriors still could not withstand that irresistible strength.
"Damn it!"
The Custodian commander struggled back to his feet, trembling as he looked toward the towering, hateful daemonic form ahead.
Lit by blazing fire and the black planet hanging behind it, that being looked even more terrifying.
The commander drew a deep breath and reignited the power field around his guardian spear.
They had to hold this line.
It was the last line.
If the dark rift swept over Holy Terra, everything would be over.
According to command's analysis, once the dark rift reached Holy Terra, that abominable Chaos planet would be able to travel along the rift, bypass every physical defense and every Blackstone containment line, and strike the Palace directly.
That could deal a fatal blow to the Golden Throne.
From that perspective, this Blackstone fortress was likely the final position protecting not only Holy Terra, but the Palace itself.
If it fell, there would be no further chance to defend.
"For the Emperor!"
The Custodian commander roared and led the Custodians in one final charge against that abhorrent being.
It was their last assault.
Horus, clad in black armor, kept walking forward as though the Custodians throwing themselves at him were not even there.
Those roaring Custodian Wardens looked like children with little sticks in his eyes, no threat at all.
Every attack coming at him was effortlessly broken.
Crackle.
"How pitiful. You think you can stop humanity's new Emperor?"
Horus gripped Worldbreaker and ignited its power field. With one sweeping strike, several more Custodians fell.
Then his claw punched through the chest of a senior Sister of Silence and hurled her into the ruins.
At the same time, the Dark Emperor's own bodyguards moved in as well, executing the bloodied Custodians who remained.
Boom!
Horus kicked the Custodian commander away, sending him crashing into this sector's Blackstone engine.
The force was so monstrous that even the force shields in between were pierced through.
Then Horus unleashed a sweep of unnatural warp-fire, setting both the Custodian commander and the engine ablaze.
At maximum speed, he destroyed the most heavily defended and most important engine node.
That weakened the Blackstone fortress's ability to block the dark rift, and the Chaos sky spread farther still.
He was far stronger now than he had been ten thousand years ago. The false Emperor's Custodians were utterly unworthy of him.
Once this Blackstone fortress was destroyed, the Palace would practically be his for the taking. The few Custodians left inside would not be able to stir up much resistance.
Then Rogal Dorn's roar reached him and caught his attention.
It was the challenge.
Hm?
Horus frowned slightly and turned around. Behind him, the engine burned furiously, and the whole region had begun collapsing.
Against that backdrop of destruction, he looked even more savage.
"Interesting."
Horus looked toward a certain distant sector, his gaze seeming to cut through both time and space at once.
That was where Rogal Dorn, the false Emperor's good little son, was waiting.
A cold smile crossed the Dark Emperor's face.
"That fool thinks that because he has a suit of armor forged by the Savior, he can stand against me?
"He still has no idea what kind of power he's about to face..."
Dropping the last Custodian corpse, Horus led his Dark Guard into the rift and headed for that sector.
He had not forgotten the insult Rogal Dorn had once dealt his command abilities in the Chaos temple.
That pitiful fool needed to learn exactly what became of those who humiliated the Dark Emperor.
"I will tear you apart with my own hands, along with that little toy the Savior forged for you..."
Horus's gaze turned cold.
He had already decided to publicly brutalize and execute Rogal Dorn, crushing the fighting spirit of the Imperial defenders in one stroke.
Soon Mortarion, Magnus, and the other fallen Primarchs received the same challenge.
Dorn's arrogance enraged them.
One after another, they smashed apart the relevant Blackstone engines and headed toward the duel's location.
Wave after wave of Chaos beings converged on the area where Rogal Dorn stood.
It was one of the most central regions of the Blackstone fortress, and it would become the battlefield for this duel.
The Chaos daemons all wanted to witness the Lord of the Bastion die under the torment of the Dark Emperor and the fallen Primarchs.
Such an exquisitely blasphemous scene was not something they intended to miss.
"Blood God above..."
Some of the Chaos daemons had only just arrived at the target sector when they were met with a horrifying sight.
The Lord of the Bastion was beating the living hell out of the Lord of the Hydra, the brothers Alpharius and Omegon.
In their field of vision, Omegon lay facedown on the ground not far away, motionless, dead or alive no one could tell.
Alpharius, meanwhile, had armor shattered all over his body and blood spilling from his mouth. He was using the broken shaft of the Pale Spear just to force himself back upright.
As for Rogal Dorn himself, after launching an infernal missile that blasted Alpharius away yet again, he was currently pinning down a Keeper of Secrets and pounding it mercilessly.
By the time he tossed the daemon's corpse aside and turned toward the horde of Chaos creatures, the daemons all instinctively took a step back.
None of them dared attack him anymore.
How savage was that?
The scene left the Imperial defenders and Chaos beings arriving there alike staring in utter disbelief.
The Lord of the Bastion had completely gone berserk. He was rampaging through them like there was no one in the way.
"Abominable filth, what exactly are you afraid of? I permit you to face me all at once!"
Dorn's voice was as firm and authoritative as ever.
He was growing even more excited. He could vaguely feel his strength increasing again, just a little.
That strange power seemed to be coming from the Warp.
At that moment, within the Warp, the Plague Father and the other Dark Gods turned to look at Khorne, the Blood God, their gazes full of scrutiny.
They had all paid such a ruinous price, going so far as to burn their own blood to attack Terra, and now that Blood God could not resist granting power to Chaos's own enemy?!
"That is merely the manifestation of the authority of slaughter. It is not a power I can control."
Khorne fell silent for a moment before answering.
He did not want to aid an enemy of Chaos either, but the power of that rule was not something even he could fully direct.
"That Primarch will fall soon enough."
At that point, the Changer of Ways seemed to sense something and spoke slowly.
He sounded completely certain of the fate awaiting the loyal Primarch, the Lord of the Bastion.
Hearing that, the Plague Father and the other Dark Gods said nothing more and continued watching the battle.
They could not afford further losses.
Inside the Blackstone fortress, Rogal Dorn fought harder and harder, knocking down more and more greater daemons.
He held fast to the Blackstone engine in that core position.
But before he could even catch his breath, he sensed danger rushing toward him.
"Die!"
Alpharius had crept close under stealth and suddenly lunged, thrusting the remains of his relic spear at Dorn's head in a killing strike he had been storing up for some time.
Fortunately, Dorn reacted in time and caught the lethal attack on the armor plating of his vambrace.
But before he could counterattack, another blow came in and knocked the weapon attached to his other hand aside.
It was Omegon. At some point, the fallen Primarch had recovered again.
The Lord of the Hydra possessed one soul in two bodies. As long as one remained alive, the other could rapidly recover.
Under the paired sneak attack of the two fallen Primarchs, Dorn's mobility was temporarily restricted.
Worse still, it was no longer just the two Lords of the Hydra attacking him.
At some point, twisted fungal strands had begun spreading across the ground, quickly growing upward and tangling tightly around the legs of the Redemption Armor.
It was the Death Lord's fungal abyss attack.
More assaults followed in rapid succession. The Crimson King, Magnus, sent a sorcerous mental attack boring invisibly inward, while the fallen Phoenician Fulgrim's mist of indulgence clouded Dorn's vision.
Then Mortarion emerged from the fungal growth and swept the Silence scythe toward the Lord of the Bastion's back at a bizarre angle.
It pierced the rear armor of the Redemption Armor, and filthy plague-rot oozed from the tip into the wound.
It was a toxic corruption capable of rotting any flesh.
At this point, the fallen Primarchs were all furious and had no interest whatsoever in playing one-on-one duel games with Rogal Dorn.
Since this arrogant fool wanted to challenge everyone, then everyone would jump him together and beat him down hard.
The fallen Primarchs wanted nothing more than to gang up on him and brutally torment the fool who had dared insult them.
"Dorn, my poor brother. Die in the agony of corruption..."
Like the other fallen Primarchs, Mortarion felt a trace of savage satisfaction.
He had finally experienced the joy of ganging up on someone.
At last he understood why the Savior, that man who ought to have rotted away long ago, loved dogpiling people so much.
It really did feel good.
Today, they would smash Dorn's turtle shell apart and then, in front of the Imperial defenders, kill him in the most brutal way possible.
???
But in the next instant, Mortarion's expression changed.
He discovered that Silence had only managed to pierce the outer layer of armor. It could go no deeper and had failed to injure Dorn's flesh.
And the Crimson King's psychic attack had been blocked by the internal Blackstone systems and failed completely.
Even with several fallen Primarchs attacking together, they had still been unable to inflict real damage. With the Savior's help, Rogal Dorn had stacked his armor too thick.
They simply could not punch through it.
How was this supposed to work?
Mortarion felt numb.
Before he could even process it, however, a powerful sense of danger washed over him.
Even the hairs on his body stood on end.
"Die!"
After his earlier attack failed, Magnus immediately overheated with rage. The proud Primarch joined forces with his Thousand Sons sorcerers to unleash a massive sorcerous assault.
It was a horrifying flame he had cultivated for hundreds of years, gathering immeasurable warp-power, originally intended to burn the Golden Throne itself.
In an instant, Chaos fire of extreme temperature swept in from the Warp and blanketed the region indiscriminately.
???
"You bastard!"
The moment the Chaos flames rolled in, Mortarion's moth-wings were singed black. Cursing furiously, he shot away from the region as fast as he could.
The other fallen Primarchs were no different. They scrambled and fled to escape the area covered by the Chaos fire.
"This is bad..."
Bound in place, Dorn was engulfed in roaring unnatural flame. The brilliant True One alloy of the Redemption Armor began visibly melting.
At that moment, surrounded by so many fallen Primarchs, he was starting to panic.
(End of Chapter)
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