Axis had already returned to his normal two-meter height. With a calm smile, he crooked his finger at Rogal Dorn, then placed both hands behind his back.
"Come at me. If you can touch me even once, I will count it as your victory. How about that?"
The moment those words left his lips, even Horus frowned.
Axis was far too confident.
Dorn was no weakling. If they fought normally, considering the strength Axis had just displayed, Dorn would find victory difficult. But to face him without power armor, using only his legs, and declaring that even a single touch would count as defeat, such words were humiliating.
As Horus expected, Dorn's expression darkened. Axis's power was undeniably immense, even greater than Vulkan, Lord of the Salamanders, who had once been the mightiest of the Primarchs in sheer physical strength.
Dorn admitted to himself that he might not be Axis's match.
Yet to fight unarmored, relying only on his legs, was this arrogance not too much?
"Axis. Dorn. We are all Primarchs of the Imperium. There should be no conflict between us. Calm yourselves. Listen to me, and stop this now," Horus quickly stepped forward, trying to mediate.
"You must understand one thing, Horus," said Dorn coldly, "I have never harbored hostility toward Axis. I merely opposed his Librarius project. He took offense where none was intended. And I never suggested that he fight unarmored or using only his legs."
It had nothing to do with him.
He had not sought out this quarrel at all. He had been dragged here, only for Axis to demand a duel.
"That is correct. I said it myself. You just need to come at me. I will make sure to go easy," Axis replied with a smile.
"Axis, you sound like a barbarian when you speak," Dorn growled.
For a brief moment, Dorn felt an odd familiarity.
In certain ways, Axis reminded him of the Wolf King. In others, he resembled the golden haired Lion.
"The world I grew up in was not unlike those of the Wolf King and the Lion. So call me a barbarian if you wish," Axis said.
I am a barbarian. What can you do about it?
"You two, enough!" Horus said helplessly.
"Stand aside. Since he insists on such terms, he cannot complain when he loses," Dorn shoved Horus out of his way and charged at Axis.
Primarchs speed was blistering.
Dorn held nothing back, his body becoming a golden blur as he launched forward, fist raised high.
Horus looked on with a serious expression.
Dorn had not restrained himself. He had activated the full strength of his power armor, and combined with a Primarch's superhuman speed, this strike could kill even one of their brothers if unarmored.
But Dorn's fist struck nothing but an afterimage. Axis had already slipped behind him.
"You—when did you—?" Dorn eyes narrowed, retreating rapidly, his eyes fixed in alarm on Axis.
When he had thrown his punch, Axis had been standing still before him. Yet in just 0.01 seconds, Axis had appeared behind him?
"Didn't see? Then I will slow down for you," Axis's voice rang out, and suddenly he was in front of Dorn again.
His leg whipped out in a roundhouse kick that sent Dorn flying.
Even as he was launched away, Dorn braced his hand against the ground, regaining his balance instantly.
But Axis was already there again, driving another side kick into him. The force gouged two scorched furrows into the floor beneath Dorn's armored boots.
The moment Dorn steadied himself, Axis's figure was already upside-down above him like some phantom.
Both legs blurred into afterimages as he unleashed a storm of brutal kicks.
Dorn could do nothing.
He could not track the movement, could not predict the strikes. He only felt the sharp pain as his face was hammered again and again.
The bastard had not struck anywhere else.
Every single blow landed on his face. Dorn's features were swelling, his fury burning in his eyes, but all he could see were flickering afterimages darting through the air.
Axis's speed was beyond even what a Primarch could imagine.
With a roar, Dorn launched another assault. Each of his blows was powerful enough to shatter fortress walls.
Yet Axis only shifted lightly, sidestepped, or raised a leg. Every dodge was executed with flawless precision, not even allowing the gale of Dorn's fists to graze his clothing.
Axis's voice suddenly sounded beside Dorn's ear.
"The hands are just distractions. It's the feet that matter."
Dorn had not even seen him move.
A tremendous force struck his lower back, sending him stumbling forward.
Axis's boot pressed lightly against his back, borrowing the momentum to flip gracefully over and land behind him.
Then, like a cannon shot, one leg drove into Dorn's chest.
The Primarch of the Imperial Fists grunted and was hurled backward, his chest plate ringing with the impact.
Even through the protection of his power armor, the pain was sharp, forcing him to crawl on the ground for several seconds before he could rise again.
Dorn was furious.
This time, he held nothing back. His armor went into overdrive, servos shrieking as his speed surged. Both fists came down like meteors toward Axis.
Yet—
Axis only leaned back slightly, his right leg snapping up like a snake and striking Dorn's wrist joint with precision.
Crack.
The servos in Dorn's gauntlet locked instantly, his fist frozen in mid-air.
"Heh. You are far too slow, and your body is full of openings." The mocking voice came from above, and Dorn's eyes widened as the sole of a boot filled his vision.
Bang.
The Primarch of the Imperial Fists was launched backward by a flawless overhead kick, his chest plate bearing the perfect imprint of a boot.
Axis twisted mid-air, tapping Dorn's knee lightly with his toe to push away, his entire form descending with featherlike grace.
His movements were elegant now, a stark contrast to the brutal violence of moments before.
Horus's pupils contracted sharply.
He saw it clearly, each time Dorn tried to strike back, Axis's foot would land on the precise joint he used for leverage, cutting off his attacks as if he could see the future.
This was not a duel.
It was a carefully crafted humiliation.
Dorn's fists tore the air apart, each blow strong enough to shatter adamantium plating or rattle the leg of a Titan.
But Axis only tilted his body, touched the ground lightly, and slid aside like a ghost. Dorn's punches ruffled his black hair, yet did not so much as graze the edge of his coat.
Axis chuckled softly, still keeping his hands clasped behind his back.
Dorn's pupils narrowed.
He instantly switched tactics, sweeping a hand across like a warhammer while his armored boots flared with jets of thrust, attempting to close off every path of retreat.
Axis merely leapt lightly, planting his right foot on Dorn's sweeping wrist, flipping upward, and lashing his left leg down like a steel whip.
Crack.
The Primarch staggered back, the side of his helmet caved in with a comically clear footprint.
"Damn you!" Dorn roared, activating his armor's assault charge. His jump pack flared, spitting blue fire.
He became a golden comet, his overloaded gauntlets sparking with energy, a strike powerful enough to punch through the frontal armor of a Russ.
Axis' smile didn't vanish. Meeting Dorn's charge head-on, he vaulted upward, his leg swinging down like a war-axe.
When boot heel met gauntlet, the adamantine knuckles split with spiderweb cracks.
Axis's foot pinned Dorn's arm into the ground, driving the entire mechanical limb deep into the flooring.
The composite plating of the chamber fractured outward in a web, the cracks spreading all the way to Horus's feet.
Dorn's breath came ragged.
He had never faced such an opponent, no, this was no opponent at all.
It was mockery made flesh.
The difference was too vast. It was like the gulf between a Primarch and a mere Space Marine.
What kind of monster was this? Could the disparity between Primarchs truly be this great?
Horus's face was pale.
He had known Axis was strong, but never imagined he was this strong.
…
Meanwhile, within the Imperial Palace on Holy Terra, the Emperor and Malcador sat together, sipping coffee.
"With Axis's temperament, he will surely give Dorn a thorough beating. Are you certain it won't break him?" Malcador asked.
"The Primarchs all serve me, but they are prideful beyond measure. Sometimes, their arrogance must be struck down. I believe Dorn will rise from this. His spirit is like stone itself," the Emperor replied.
"In truth, I think Axis is the more arrogant one. Why not have someone humble him?"
"He has the right to be arrogant. And besides, in this entire Imperium, there is no one who could."
Malcador laughed. "Then Dorn is in for a bitter lesson it seems."
…
Axis launched his final strike.
With a sudden inversion, he flipped into the air, both legs scissoring around Dorn's neck. Using gravity, he slammed the Primarch headfirst into the ground.
The impact rattled Dorn's entire body, his upper armor shattering apart as he coughed blood into the floor.
Axis's movements had been flawless, flowing seamlessly, his hands never leaving his back.
When the dust settled, Axis crouched beside Dorn, who lay half-buried in the ground.
"Can you still stand?" he asked.
Dorn's face was swollen grotesquely, like that of a beaten swine, his appearance utterly pitiful.
"That is enough, Axis. You've gone too far," Horus stepped forward angrily, shielding his brother.
This was no battle.
It had been annihilation, nothing more than bullying.
Axis only smiled.
Placing one hand on Dorn's body, he channeled a current of ki into him. In moments, the swelling vanished, and the battered Primarch of the Imperial Fists stood recovered.
...
..
..
power
stones!!