"But I don't love him." Blazkowicz removed the back armor covering the base of the wings and discovered it was a multi-layered structure that interlocked vertically, which solved his internal confusion about how the air-tight seal around the wings was maintained.
"Yet I respect him immensely."
Sanguinius nodded silently. What his brother said was treasonous, leaving him unsure how to respond, and silent listening was the best choice.
The Blood Guard members were horrified. The Primarch's words went in one ear and out the other; they actively shielded their memory perception, not daring to record the conversation between the Primarchs.
Blazkowicz quickly removed the layers of the golden King's Glory Armor, revealing his pristine white body. His skin glowed slightly under the sunlight, enveloping The Great Angel in a halo.
After shedding his heavy Power Armor, Sanguinius rotated his arms, walked into the sea to wash up, and rinsed off the heat and dust.
The Colonel and the others hiding in the shadows of the woods had blank stares, their minds chaotic, having lost the ability to think.
What they saw was too shocking: the mighty warriors clad in armor, and the holy angels descending from the sky.
They were like gods, stepping out of the mythical epics imagined by mankind, fitting every description of a Heroic Spirit Warrior.
Strong, majestic, possessing powerful physiques and tenacious resolve, their gazes were determined like torches, their faces etched with defiance.
Myths were always just myths, yet these mighty warriors were incredibly real. They carried large-caliber firearms, their armor forged by technology, and their blades shone with the light of wisdom.
The Colonel and his companions dared not move, and the restless Doctor also fell silent.
The aura emanating from the descending warriors was like an invisible hand grasping their throats, preventing them from making a sound.
Since they were able to come to Pandora, their intelligence had fundamentally passed the test. As their brains were forced to calm down, it was naturally not difficult to see the signs.
The warriors descending from the sky were laden with honor, their armor decorated with various symbolic items, but many common accessories pointed to one meaning—Death!
Diverging from human history, if a civilization or city-state used death as a symbol, then its very existence would take pride in spreading death and self-sacrifice.
In short, the angels and armies that had arrived on Pandora were definitely not benevolent entities.
The Colonel's body froze in place, cold sweat streaming down his forehead as he gestured to calm the others.
He knew deeply that there was no retreat now. The path ahead was certainly not a broad highway, but a thorny road leading toward death and glory.
Miles signaled everyone to remain silent, pointing to his eyes and ears, using body language to instruct them to observe and listen closely.
The event unfolding was unprecedented, and collecting information was especially crucial.
They watched the beach. The holy angel returned from the sea, crystal water droplets sliding off his wings, beautiful, dreamy, and mesmerizing.
Sanguinius put on casual clothes, looked around, and smiled, "It certainly has a unique charm."
He was wearing sea-blue casual shorts printed with cloud patterns, exposing his muscular upper body, looking exceptionally relaxed.
Blazkowicz invited his brother to sit beside him. The two Primarchs sat cross-legged together, just like brothers from an ordinary family out enjoying themselves.
"Try my cooking." Blazkowicz said proudly, taking a roasted fish from the bonfire and handing it over. "I believe that purely based on culinary skill, I can definitely rank among the best of my brothers."
"The wine you've been craving." He poured fine wine for his brother, then waved Harlan over. "This is Harlan Ogilvy, my closest comrade-in-arms."
Sanguinius was flattered, quickly accepted the roasted fish and fine wine, and gazed at the tall man walking toward them.
"Harlan Ogilvy, Champion Swordsman, Oath Guard, I have heard of your legend."
He intended to stand up and greet him but was held down by Blazkowicz's hand on his shoulder, so he merely nodded, displaying basic courtesy.
"Greetings, Primarch," Harlan responded, performing the warrior's salute, a smile appearing on his face. "Even while on Argent Nur, I have heard of your holy name throughout the stars."
What Harlan said was true. Sanguinius had not joined the Great Crusade long, but his holy reputation had spread far and wide.
In many lost worlds that required military reconquest, when The Angel descended, people often laid down their weapons and surrendered, accepting the rule of the Imperium of Man.
Sanguinius's perfection was not only reflected in his appearance; his noble character was even more captivating.
The Angel's path of conquest was accompanied by the enlightenment of souls. People erected statues, set up monuments, wrote lyrics, and sang hymns, celebrating the mercy and humility of the Son of the Emperor.
"Please sit down quickly." Sanguinius invited Harlan, then said to Obelisk, "And this powerful warrior should join us too."
The four men gathered around the blanket, drinking and chatting happily. The conversation gradually opened up and deepened, leading to hearty laughter when funny stories were told.
"The fighting styles of the Doom Slayers and the Blood Angels are somewhat similar."
When the men gathered, they first greeted each other politely. Once the conversation started, they talked about everything, and naturally, the topic turned to the Legions.
Blazkowicz noticed that Sanguinius described the Blood Angels Legion's tactics as primarily focused on rapid strikes, using Drop Pods to assault the enemy's stronghold directly.
The tactics established by his Bloodline Legion, following extensive military reforms, were also related to this approach.
Although the Doom Slayers were an elite force, their numbers were extremely limited, having only grown to a scale of over a thousand since the Legion was founded on Terra.
The small population severely restricted tactical execution. The Legion found it difficult to engage in frontal decisive battles, requiring reliance on the Iron Men and intelligently controlled machinery to support large-scale warfare.
The intelligent machine tied up the main battlefield, while the Legion Warriors rapidly assaulted, eliminating vital enemy facilities and command posts, breaking the whole situation by striking key points.
"Precisely because of this, we should communicate more often." Sanguinius's tone was gentle. He raised his cup and drank heartily, but deep within his eyes, there was a trembling flicker.
That flicker contained hesitation and evasion, and naturally, it did not escape Blazkowicz's notice, drawing his attention.
He knew well that the Blood Angels had crossed the sea of stars, certainly not just for a simple reunion, but for some other purpose.
The hesitation in Sanguinius's eyes indicated that the matter was far from simple, making it difficult for The Angel to decide.
"Sanguinius." Softly calling his brother's name, Blazkowicz saw the worry etched between The Angel's brows, and slowly set down his wine cup. "We are brothers by blood; you can speak freely. Have you encountered some difficulty?"
Blazkowicz rarely pointed out difficulties others found hard to express, as many things were unspoken secrets.
But for Sanguinius, he was willing to offer help.
Only when mentioning Legion development did The Great Angel reveal his hidden sorrow. Legion development primarily involved armaments, and Argent Nur could provide equipment support.
Hearing Blazkowicz's concerned inquiry, Sanguinius naturally knew that his thoughts had been detected by his perceptive brother.
"Alas." He let out a long sigh. His beautiful features gradually dimmed as he lowered his head to fiddle with the wine cup in his hand, the hesitation in his eyes deepening.
Sanguinius looked up at Blazkowicz, his eyes filled with determination, but the resolve vanished the moment he opened his mouth, and he ultimately lacked the courage to speak.
He struggled internally, his thoughts surging like crashing waves beneath a calm exterior.
The warm atmosphere completely disappeared. The air solidified in silence, broken only by the rushing sound of the tide.
Harlan and Obelisk remained silent, quietly eating fish and drinking wine. The current conversation at the table had gone beyond companionship and cheer, making it difficult for them to participate.
Blazkowicz's brow gradually furrowed. An unspeakable darkness was hidden within Sanguinius, tormenting his brother. This dark secret concerned the entire Legion.
When his brother was about to speak just now, the Blood Guard's hearts skipped a beat; they were extremely nervous.
"Brother." Blazkowicz called softly, raising his hand to point toward the distant coastline. "May I walk with you?"
"Of course." Sanguinius regained his smile, took hold of his brother's forearm, stood up, and patted the sand off his rear.
"You are free to move around; there's no need to be so serious."
The two gave orders to the Legion. Shoulder to shoulder, they walked away along the coastline, their feet stepping through the clear waves.
"Come! Come! Come!" Seeing them walk away, and no one there to restrain him, Harlan revealed his hearty nature and waved to the Blood Guard.
"All you handsome lads, come over and drink wine and eat meat. Don't worry about those two."
He saw the worry on the faces of the Blood Guard and waved his hand dismissively: "Don't worry about their safety. If the Primarchs were in danger, we should be thinking about how to run faster and not hold them back."
The Primarch's Guard smiled immediately upon hearing the blunt remark. The Champion Swordsman spoke crudely but correctly.
Just as he said.
If there was a force on this indigenous planet capable of threatening the Gene-Father and the Warrior King, thinking about retreat would be the key.
Harlan called over a few Legion Warriors, and they worked together to move strong beer from the Landing Craft, handing bottles to the Sons of the Angel, enjoying the relaxed moment after their leaders had departed.
Blazkowicz and Sanguinius walked a long distance, neither speaking a word until they reached a secluded beach where they finally stopped.
"Brother, why exactly have you come?"
"Brother, why have you truly come?"
The two brothers sat opposite each other on the reef, Blazkowicz asking for the first time why Sanguinius had come to Argent Nur.
Sanguinius's wings drooped, their tips touching the seawater, and The Great Angel's heart was greatly conflicted.
The turquoise waves of the bay undulated ceaselessly, and the shattered sunlight reflected on his face, mirroring his turbulent emotions at this moment.
"Brother, when we parted on Bawell II, you reminded me of The Ninth Legion's past and knew what they had endured."
Blazkowicz's expression was serious as he nodded earnestly and said, "I have indeed heard of it, learning that they suffered unjust treatment."
"I can also understand that Astartes warriors resorting to cannibalism on the battlefield was a helpless emergency measure."
"Brother." He smiled, comforting Sanguinius: "After your return, The Ninth Legion has been reborn from the ashes; they have transformed into noble warriors, leaving behind the shadow of the The Revenant Legion."
"The current Blood Angels Legion displays noble bearing and discipline, earning the admiration of many brother Legions."
Blazkowicz did not exaggerate. Since Sanguinius's return, the The Revenant Legion had vanished, and the Blood Angels had become a disciplined army.
"Leaving behind the shadow of the Damned?" Sanguinius's beautiful face twisted in pain, and he shook his head weakly, his eyes bloodshot: "Brother, the shadow has never left the Legion; it is etched into the Legion's bloodline and genes."
"Sometimes I wonder if my gene-seed itself is tainted with a mutated curse, causing the Legion's Gene-sons to suffer so much."
He slowly lowered his head, letting his golden hair fall, using the shadow to conceal a vulnerability he had never shown.
Sanguinius raised his hands, and Blazkowicz noticed that those pristine, flawless hands, which struck fear into the Emperor's enemies, were trembling violently.
The clear voice of The Great Angel was almost choked: "My hands are stained with the blood of my Gene-sons!"
Boom—!
It was as if thunder descended from the sky, and the sea churned with violent waves. The tranquil bay was stained with an indelible gloom by The Great Angel's words.
"Brother." Blazkowicz rose from the reef he was sitting on, his eyes filled with disbelief, yet he remained calm as he asked, "Please tell me, what exactly happened?"
He had not imagined that beneath the glory of the Blood Angels, such a terrifying dark secret was hidden.
Sanguinius did not speak, looking up steadily at Blazkowicz, his face pale as he said, "This is a filthy original sin, and I have always hesitated whether to speak of it, fearing it would defile your ears."
By this point, Blazkowicz had a clear understanding in his heart.
The Blood Angels had crossed the star sea for this very reason. Sanguinius had not told anyone, going to great lengths to hide the Legion's secret.
"But you still came." Blazkowicz shed his serious expression, replacing it with a soft, comforting look: "And you came with hope."
"Since you have come to a warrior's domain, placing your hope in your brother, I am naturally willing to listen."
He said to Sanguinius, "I will pledge an oath of loyalty: what you speak to my ear shall never be known by a third person."
"I am also willing to believe the one who, on Bawell II, stood before the mortals, blocking the hungry waters, and vowed never to betray them."
"You saved the The Revenant Legion, just as you promised in your oath, never betraying or abandoning anyone."
"My heart aches for you." Blazkowicz stepped forward, grasping Sanguinius's trembling hands, his eyes burning as he looked directly at his brother: "When the blood of your Gene-sons flows, you must be the one who suffers the most."
Sanguinius was stunned for a moment, until the warmth from the hand clasping his awakened him, and a mist appeared in his eyes.
His strong heart beat a fraction faster, and a thousand words condensed into a single glistening tear that slid down his face, leaving a burning trail.
"I truly did not misjudge you!" He clasped his hands tightly, interlocking them with the large hands, his voice hoarse: "In my search for a solution to the curse, I undertook an unprecedented prophecy, and the result I saw was hollow darkness."
"When I focused my gaze on Segmentum Obscurus, it flickered between light and dark, and the outcome depended on my courage."
Sanguinius rose from the reef, gripping Blazkowicz's hands, a look of resolute determination flashing in his blue eyes.
His posture suddenly changed, and he knelt on one knee before Blazkowicz, his words pleading: "My brother, please allow me to ask this of you."
Blazkowicz wanted to reach out to stop him but found his hands firmly held by Sanguinius, making it difficult to break free. He hastily extended his foot to brace Sanguinius's knee, preventing him from kneeling.
"Brother, please don't do this."
He used his hands to pull his brother up, making a sincere promise: "You have traveled countless miles to come here; I will do my utmost to help. We are brothers by blood; why be so distant?"
A look of surprise flashed across Sanguinius's face. His falling body was being pulled up by Blazkowicz, allowing no refusal.
"I was too emotional."
Standing up from the seawater, his mood calmed considerably after receiving the answer, and a gentle, warm expression returned to his face.
"Why did you bring your Legion?" Blazkowicz guided his brother to sit down, and he too returned to his seat on the reef, quietly awaiting an answer.
Sanguinius shook off the seawater clinging to his wings, tidied his appearance, and after a long silence, spoke two words.
Before this, he had never revealed it to anyone, including Horus and the Emperor. Even within the Legion, only a few high-ranking members knew: "the red thirst!"
the red thirst?
A special term Blazkowicz had never heard before. He slowly nodded upon hearing it, motioning for him to continue.
"It's hard to explain with words alone; you need to see this."
Sanguinius gave a sly smile, folding his pristine wings in front of him. He reached into the gap between the feathers and pulled out a projector.
Seeing his fluid movements, Blazkowicz's expression subtly tightened. He raised an eyebrow at The Great Angel, suddenly feeling a sense of being manipulated.
"Take a look at this." Sanguinius's slyness vanished, his expression gradually growing heavy. After activating the holographic projection, he tossed the projector into the water.
Blazkowicz gave his full attention, carefully observing the images displayed by the projector, his expression involuntarily becoming solemn.
The holographic projection showed footage recorded from the perspective of a The Ninth Legion Warrior. At that time, they were still wearing their ominous black power armor, and the timeline was the early period of the Great Crusade.
In the footage, the battle had ended. The Hive City was filled with the corpses of an unknown human faction, and his gaze was fixed on his battle brother.
That warrior was rolling among the piles of dead, his handsome face terrifyingly contorted, as if fighting against something within him.
Soon, his struggle failed, succumbing to a desire that overwhelmed reason, letting out an inhuman roar as his canines grew long and sharp.
When Blazkowicz saw the sharp canines, he was surprised and muttered to himself, wondering if there was some commonality in the gene templates of the Blood Angels and Space Wolves.
Muttering aside, the holographic image continued to change.
With his reason gone, the warrior casually grabbed a corpse that was still warm, his fangs biting into the corpse's neck, emitting a sound of pleasure as blood entered his throat.
Still not satisfied, he forcefully sucked the lifeless body, extracting every last drop of warm blood.
Then, the Corps Commander arrived in a hurry, his face showing regret, and he unhesitatingly pierced his brother's heart with his power sword.
"This is the earliest record of the red thirst." Sanguinius's voice was heavy. The painful image changed again, playing the next record.
Blazkowicz nodded slowly, silently watching the projector's display.
One after another, as time passed, more and more records played, and the red thirst spread rapidly within The Ninth Legion.
Even after Sanguinius returned to the Legion, although the outbreak of the red thirst was suppressed, the Legion Warrior had not escaped the curse, and symptoms of the red thirst would appear after every battle.
The only thing that changed was that the executioner, from a Legion officer, became Sanguinius himself.
"the red thirst originates from a gene-seed mutation; it is rooted in our bloodline. I dream of solving this hidden danger."
The projection finished playing. Sanguinius retrieved the projector from the water, carefully placing it back into his wings, preserving the Legion's deepest secret.
He explained in a deep voice: "Since my return to the Legion, I have deeply understood the poison of 'the red thirst,' and so I have required my Gene-sons, in addition to combat skills, to study some form of art or skill to divert their attention and suppress their inner craving for blood."
"Alas," Sanguinius shook his head powerlessly, his eyes filled with sorrow and melancholy, "these are all temporary solutions, unable to eradicate the symptoms of the red thirst."
"Furthermore, after excessive suppression, the risk of a Red Thirst outbreak increases, until a certain outbreak leads to a complete loss of reason, turning them into a bloodthirsty monster."
Blazkowicz listened quietly, sensing his brother's helplessness, his sorrowful words recounting the Legion's pain.
After hearing the full story, he summarized the matter simply and then asked, "Does the Emperor know?"
"As our Creator, the Emperor has the most authority over gene-seeds. Does he know about this malignant gene mutation?"
Sanguinius's body trembled, and his face showed fear: "The Legion concealed the red thirst, not daring to let outsiders know, fearing the news would eventually reach Father's ears."
"He has little tolerance for gene mutations."
"He has little tolerance for genetic mutation."
After saying this, Sanguinius looked at the two figures sitting opposite each other on the reef, with deep anticipation in his eyes.
Before coming to the Nur Stars, he had predicted the future many times: a flickering candle amidst stars shrouded by black holes.
To make his prophecy clearer, Sanguinius made a targeted prophecy for Blazkowicz, but all he saw was darkness and emptiness, without any hope or light.
He immediately understood. The abstract prophetic vision described a concrete concept: whether the Legion's journey to the Nur Stars would yield any results depended entirely on the will of its master, Blazkowicz Nowick.
"He is indeed a stubborn and conflicted person." Blazkowicz nodded in deep agreement, also sensing the anticipation in Sanguinius's eyes.
It was as if a drowning person had seen a straw; regardless of whether it could save their life, they would immediately grasp it with all their might, fearing it would slip from their hands.
"The existence of the red thirst is a tragedy." He did not avoid the expectation, meeting Sanguinius's gaze, and said very cautiously: "I cannot define it right now."
His brother's words tightened Sanguinius's heart, and regret surfaced. Although his expression did not change, he mentally prepared himself for rejection.
He felt deeply regretful, as he had come bearing hope.
Sanguinius fully understood the apprehension in his brother's words, as the gene-seed was created by the Emperor, and its secrets were known only to him.
Did the Emperor already know about the existence of the red thirst? Was it related to one of his unknown plans? Or was it a deliberate test?
Sanguinius naturally knew these things, and it was precisely for this reason that he felt regret and sorrow in his heart.
He wanted to loudly question the Emperor, but he also feared that the red thirst was acquired later, deviating from the Emperor's original design.
At that time, the secret would be exposed to the light.
Would a mutated Primarch and Legion, a foul existence completely contrary to the Emperor's original intention, incur his wrath?
So Sanguinius dared not ask, because mutation could still be tolerated. He didn't want to seek an answer or help, and jeopardize the entire bloodline Legion.
"Brother." Blazkowicz saw The Great Angel's regret and, to avoid misunderstanding, quickened his speech: "Rigorous matters must be handled step by step."
"I dare not make promises lightly, because I cannot be certain if I can resolve the red thirst."
"The help I can offer you now is to use every means to examine the origin of the red thirst, trace it back to its source, and ascertain its essence."
"That's how it should be!" Sanguinius was overjoyed to hear this, excitedly standing up from the reef, almost jumping for joy.
Undoubtedly, clear and methodical assistance is more encouraging to someone seeking help than vague grandiloquence.
It shows that the person in charge of resources is indeed thinking about the problem and has no intention of being perfunctory.
"Your words put my mind at ease." Sanguinius breathed a sigh of relief, the heavy boulder in his heart finally settling, and his mood instantly lightened, a smile appearing on his face.
Blazkowicz solemnly promised: "You are willing to trust me and reveal the Legion's secrets, and I naturally will not let you down."
"Regardless of the outcome, I will do my utmost!"
"I sincerely thank you." Sanguinius was deeply moved, performing a warrior's salute to express his gratitude: "I will forever remember this noble generosity."
"I only provided help within my capabilities." Blazkowicz stood up from the reef, grabbing his brother's hand resting on his chest: "Without further ado, let's go back."
Sanguinius smiled and nodded. The two, just as they had arrived, left the bay shoulder to shoulder, heading to Tranquil Beach to rendezvous with the Legion.
When the two returned to the beach, Pandora's star had already set. The scattered sunset light dyed the seawater golden, sparkling brightly, and the entire coastline seemed paved with gold dust.
"Eh?" Figures moved in the distance along the coastline. Sanguinius let out a soft exclamation and raised his hand, pointing towards the beach camp.
Blazkowicz peeked out from behind him, following his finger, and saw several terrified Na'vi hanging from a large tree in the coastal forest next to the beach camp.
Inside the camp, the Space Marines had lit several bonfires, eating grilled fish, drinking, and recounting glorious battles from the Great Crusade.
Around the bonfire where the high-ranking officers were seated, Harlan, uncharacteristically serious, was performing the Sentinels's traditional war dance. Every movement was sharp and forceful, showcasing the keenness of their martial culture.
Obelisk, like a black iron statue, sat cross-legged, rotating a bonfire grill. The Na'vi, gutted, were sizzling on the grill, looking golden and crispy.
Blazkowicz's face darkened. No need to guess, Harlan must have gotten a whim and put the Na'vi on the grill.
Sharp-eyed Legion Warriors saw their Primarch return and quickly stood up from the sand. Sanguinius raised a hand to stop them, signaling his bloodline children to sit down and continue.
"What's going on?" Blazkowicz walked to the bonfire, his nostrils flaring slightly, accurately distinguishing the scent of the Na'vi from the complex environmental smells.
After being roasted, the xenos emitted a smell similar to forest tree frogs, fresh and with the fragrance of a leaf.
He raised an eyebrow. It seemed to smell rather good?
Harlan didn't stop his war dance, gesturing for Obelisk to answer for him.
In Sentinels culture, the war dance is an extremely solemn ritual that cannot be interrupted unless there's an emergency, symbolizing completion from beginning to end.
Obelisk's voice was steady, his finger pointing at the xeno on the grill: "After you two adults left, the xenos spied on us from the forest and were captured on the spot by the warriors of the brother Legion."
Blazkowicz nodded, glancing at the Na'vi hanging from the tree. He immediately recognized them as a scout team from their attire and numbers.
A cold smile played on his lips, and flashes of cold light flickered in his eyes. The world soul, Eywa, was getting restless.
"It tastes quite good."
A gasp of admiration came from beside him. Blazkowicz turned to see Sanguinius with oil stains on the corner of his mouth, a small knife in his hand, carving meat from the golden-crisp Na'vi thigh on the grill.
"I'll try some too." He didn't bother with formalities, tearing off a Na'vi arm and heartily putting it into his mouth.
Fragrant oils burst in his mouth, the arm muscle tender and juicy, igniting his taste buds in a second. The charred skin was incredibly crispy, crackling with each chew, and the blend of flavors was quite unique.
"Roast those others too!" Sanguinius pointed, sealing the fate of the xenos, making them entertainment for the Legion's feast.
Several Legion Warriors rushed forward, dragging the xenos into the woods for execution, lest the xeno blood stain the Primarch's eyes.
"Leave the liver and heart." The Primarch's instruction came again from behind him: "They should have a unique flavor."
The Na'vi were terrified. Although they didn't understand the language, it wasn't hard to discern mankind's intentions for them from their body language.
They struggled desperately, their three-meter-tall bodies twisting wildly, but they could not escape the human warriors' grip, watching helplessly as daggers slit their throats, and warm blood carried away their body heat.
"Brother." Sanguinius, with a gentle smile, gestured for Blazkowicz to sit down with him. The small knife in his hand moved like a phantom, carving the xeno on the grill: "How do you plan to deal with this world?"
"Destruction." Blazkowicz wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth, called for plates, and distributed the roasted meat to the Legion Warriors: "This world's natural climate is comparable to a paradise world, yet it is filled with various poisonous gases, unsuitable for human survival."
In truth, he had deeper concerns that he had not yet explicitly told Sanguinius.
Pandora possesses a world soul, which has become rooted in the entire ecosystem through evolution, integrated into the genes of both creatures and plants.
This is both an advantage and a disadvantage. The advantage is that life forms coexist with the world soul, where one move affects everything, collectively resisting enemy invasion, and the entire ecosystem collectively attacks enemies.
The disadvantage, however, is extremely subtle, and most people haven't realized it—Chaos!
A malicious Chaos ritual could contaminate the world soul, transforming Pandora into a Chaos planet, allowing Chaos forces to take root in the Real Universe.
Since Blazkowicz arrived in this star system and repeatedly confirmed the existence of the world soul, the destruction of Pandora was already a foregone conclusion.
Sanguinius nodded slightly. He heard the decisiveness in his brother's words and naturally wouldn't be so tactless as to stop him.
"I have a good idea."
The bonfire illuminated The Great Angel's beautiful face. Sanguinius pondered for a moment, then solemnly said to Blazkowicz: "My gratitude to you cannot be fully expressed in words, and brother, you possess the Nur Stars, so you don't need material aid."
"You don't need to—" Blazkowicz wanted to say there was no need to be polite, but Sanguinius raised a hand to stop him.
"Let me finish." The Great Angel spoke slowly, his clear voice heavy and serious, his face bearing an expression of meticulous solemnity: "I wish to form a sworn brotherhood with you, to commemorate our friendship."
"On this world, which is about to be destroyed, let our two Legions hold a friendship hunt, to establish the brotherhood between our Legions."
Hearing Sanguinius's words, Blazkowicz's expression gradually became serious. He stopped distributing meat, his burning gaze fixed on him: "Are you serious?"
Sworn brotherhood is a relationship that transcends blood ties, sworn by the blood of enemies, with deep trust in one another.
This signifies a deep trust between two Legions, forming a brotherhood to advance and retreat together among the dark stars, somewhat akin to an alliance.
"Are you serious?"
Blazkowicz stated gravely, "Sworn brotherhood is no small matter, Brother Sanguinius, please do not act on impulse.
"
He was delighted in his heart; to have a brother trust him so deeply naturally made him very happy.
But Blazkowicz had to remind Sanguinius not to make an impulsive move out of gratitude and excitement.
Although the Nur Stars and the high echelons of the Imperium of Man have blood ties, in essence, they are two completely independent political entities.
Blazkowicz rules the Nur Stars, and Sanguinius represents the Imperium.
For the two to become sworn brothers is equivalent to the high-ranking officials of one nation forming a sworn brotherhood with those of another, vowing to advance and retreat together.
Currently, the Nur Stars and the Imperium of Man, two political entities, are cooperating for a common goal, in their initial honeymoon period, so problems naturally won't arise.
But the Great Crusade will eventually end, political power will inevitably be transferred to mortals, and the superhumans will withdraw from the stage of history.
With external enemies gone and internal power holders constantly changing, two completely independent political entities will eventually clash.
It doesn't even have to be that far off.
With the return of the Primarchs, various Legions, under the influence of their Primarchs, will certainly develop ideological differences.
Sanguinius's actions, in the eyes of some brothers, would be tantamount to "turning his elbow outwards," and he would certainly face ostracism.
"I am serious." Sanguinius nodded heavily, his words devoid of hesitation, carrying an unwavering determination.
As a Primarch, his superhuman mind had already foreseen the future, yet he still chose this path, bearing the criticism from all sides.
"Brother." Blazkowicz, however, looked directly into the Angel's face and shook his head even more firmly: "Please allow me to refuse."
He raised his hand to stop Sanguinius from refuting: "It's not that I look down on you; you possess a noble soul. Nor is it an insult to the Blood Angels Legion; they are all excellent, self-disciplined warriors."
"It's just that doing so is indeed inappropriate. As blood brothers, our relationship is incredibly close. I also deeply love you, so naturally, I cannot let you be criticized by other brothers."
Sanguinius's eyes sparkled, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Blazkowicz smiled and waved his hand to stop him.
"No need to be so persistent." His smile was carefree: "We were created for a great ideal, and we strive for a great ideal. Shedding our blood for it, we will eventually meet at the correct destination."
Sanguinius gazed steadily at his brother, feeling that Blazkowicz was a true idealist, striving to achieve his goals through action.
Once he identifies a goal, he doesn't need the restraint of an oath; he will move forward step by step, solving problems as they arise, without discouragement or retreat, eventually reaching that destination.
"I was shallow." Sanguinius picked up a cup of wine and drank it, immediately feeling that he still needed to raise his awareness.
The so-called "sworn brotherhood," in front of those striving together for a great goal, seemed vulgar, like forming a gang.
Sanguinius's thoughts shifted, and he couldn't help but compare the man before him to Horus.
Horus and the Emperor were very similar; they were willing to abandon or win over others to achieve a certain endeavor, everything based on an exchange of interests.
Blazkowicz was nothing like the Emperor; there were no unnecessary calculations in his heart.
After a brief interaction, Sanguinius found him to be sincere, friendly, and straightforward, never beating around the bush.
This way of conducting himself also extended to his style of action.
Once he sets a goal, he might embark on the journey alone. Whether you love him or hate him, nothing can stop him.
Just like now.
Blazkowicz would explain the pros and cons, then decisively reject the proposal after careful consideration, allowing no room for negotiation.
"Let the sworn brotherhood be dismissed." Sanguinius compromised. But he also had his own persistence. He spoke again, equally leaving no room for his brother to refuse: "But this friendship must be remembered."
"Let the hunting ritual be an eternal testament to our Legion's friendship."
"Be more specific." Blazkowicz thought for a moment, then gestured for his brother to continue: "I presume you already have a plan."
Sanguinius smiled faintly, tore a piece of Na'vi meat from the grill, and elegantly put it into his mouth: "I've been thinking about it all along, and it became perfect after eating the xenos."
"The Blood Angels and the Doom Slayers will send an equal number of warriors to hunt indigenous xenos within a specified time."
"Afterward, we will exchange spoils of war, filling each other's granaries with the greatest sincerity, as a testament to our friendship. How about that?
"
"Excellent!" Blazkowicz's eyes lit up, and he slapped his thigh, immediately agreeing to his brother's proposal, and then offered his own suggestion: "No firearms can be used during the activity; warriors should travel light to better preserve the xenos corpses and showcase the strength of the Legion Warriors."
He secretly chuckled to himself; in terms of Legion combat strength, the Gene-sons surpassed all Legions, and with the addition of Argent Nur technology, the xenos corpses would definitely fill the Blood Angels' freezers.
"That's a good suggestion." Sanguinius displayed a bright smile; he was waiting for those words, and then stated his demand: "We two must also participate, but we won't hunt Na'vi."
He raised his hand, pointing towards the vast sea covered by the twilight, a sly smile on his lips: "There are giant beasts in the sea; they are our targets."
Blazkowicz narrowed his eyes, caught off guard by his brother.
It wasn't that the sea beasts were hard to kill, but simply hard to find, and the vast ocean was not conducive to his movement.
Sanguinius, on the other hand, had a pair of wings and could soar through the sky, greatly expanding his own advantage, which could help the Legion to the greatest extent.
"You have a lot of tricks up your sleeve." Blazkowicz's lips curved slightly, and he lightly tapped Sanguinius with his fingertip, yet he agreed to the tit-for-tat proposal: "So be it."
Two large hands clasped together, and the two Primarchs looked at each other, bursting into hearty laughter.
"Count me in!" Harlan finally finished his war dance, casually tearing off a crispy Na'vi tail, and excitedly demanded to join.
"Of course."
It was finally decided that all of the Doom Slayer Primarch's Guard would participate, totaling thirty-two people, including Harlan and Obelisk.
The Blood Angels would select their most excellent Legion Warriors, also thirty-two people, to join the hunting operation.
Both sides could move freely and hunt Na'vi tribes, but they must never harm the other's brothers or disrupt the friendship between the Legions.
The hunting period was ultimately set for one month.
The time was set by Sanguinius, and Blazkowicz, upon hearing it, felt it was a bit too long, delaying the inspection for the red thirst.
Sanguinius then revealed that before coming to Argent Nur, he had requested a year from the Imperial War Council, temporarily withdrawing from the Great Crusade.
According to The Great Angel, if nothing could be found in ten Terran months, more time would be meaningless.
Understanding this, Blazkowicz agreed to the hunting period, and the two sides would engage in the xenos hunting activity for one month.
The Legions had already gone to prepare, and the two Primarchs sat cross-legged on the beach, finalizing the most crucial rule: neither side's warriors could eat raw Na'vi meat, to avoid obtaining information about settlements and environmental details from xenos flesh, lest it spoil the fun of the hunt.
This avoided the Blood Angels' the red thirst and also tested the warriors' survival skills in an unfamiliar environment.
Blazkowicz informed them of the existence of the world soul, urging the Blood Angels to be vigilant; the world of Pandora might seem savage, but it was actually full of hidden dangers.
Once the hunt began, excessive killing could very likely provoke a backlash from the biosphere, causing the entire world to mob the Astartes.
Sanguinius was greatly surprised upon learning this and immediately gave orders, reminding his Guard warriors to constantly pay attention to their surroundings.
The next morning, as the sun rose, the warriors participating in the hunt lined up neatly, eager and ready.
The Great Angel, however, looked at both Guards, feeling his teeth itch, his eyes filled with resentful anger, his nostrils flared in indignation.
They were indeed traveling light, wearing scout-model power armor, but their equipment was entirely different.
All equipment was forged in the battleship's foundries, so there was no difference in quality, ensuring absolute fairness and justice.
The difference between the two sides was that Doom Slayers were naturally stronger, with ten squads of three assigned, so their hunting efficiency would naturally be faster.
The Blood Guard adopted traditional combat methods, with fewer squads, and a more comprehensive configuration.
"You really are something." Sanguinius was truly helpless, squeezing out a sentence through gritted teeth.
"The same to you!" Blazkowicz laughed wildly, showing no weakness, pointing at his brother's wings, poised for flight.
"My Lords!"
As the two Primarchs raised their hands, ready to clap and begin the hunt, a trembling call came from the forest.
Obelisk was incredibly fast, transforming into a phantom, plucking the caller from the jungle and tossing him before the Primarchs.
"I have something to say." Under the pressure of the two superhuman beings, Miles and the Doctor lay prostrate on the ground, not daring to look directly at those magnificent faces.
Sanguinius looked at Blazkowicz. He had known someone was in the woods for a long time but hadn't asked, knowing Blazkowicz had other arrangements.
"One minute," Blazkowicz said expressionlessly, giving the colonel a chance to explain.
The two people prostrate on the ground felt the majestic voice like a mighty heavenly power, and the two gazes like scorching suns, making their backs tense as iron.
"Hurry up!" Seeing the doctor still trembling, Miles punched her in the side to rouse the shaking woman.
"Two—two sirs." Grace Augustine's tongue felt stiff, her carefully prepared words shattered into a tangled mess in her mind, all her pride turning into a humble tremor.
"Fifty seconds."
The Archon's clear and ethereal voice served as a reminder, yet it transformed into a spring breeze, soothing the doctor's agitated heart.
"Sirs, regarding your hunting targets, we have some research." The doctor opened her tightly shut eyes, not daring to look up, secretly staring at the giant's feet.
Under the pressure of time, she calmed herself and quickened her pace: "The Na'vi call them 'Tulkun,' regarding them as sea totems."
"According to our superficial research, the brain fluid of those giant beasts can keep humans eternally young, allowing them to achieve long lifespans."
"Just this one can." The doctor raised her hand above her head, gesturing the size of a container: "It's worth a billion in our world's currency, and the wealthy desperately seek it."
"The existence of this longevity substance has attracted the attention of our homeworld. The next fleet will be massive, carrying a capture fleet."
She rattled off all the information she possessed in one breath, as if all her strength had been drained, collapsing to the ground, sweating and gasping for air.
Blazkowicz and Sanguinius exchanged glances, a flicker of light in their eyes, their interest piqued.
Naturally occurring longevity substances are extremely rare in the universe; each one is a cosmic treasure, coveted by many races, who would even wage war to seize them.
For Primarchs, lifespan has never been a constraint, and Space Marines also live long lives, able to endure prolonged wars.
However, many wise individuals in the Imperium of Man are limited by their lifespans, making it difficult for them to continue contributing to the Imperium of Man, thus requiring various methods to extend their lives.
The profession of a rejuvenation sorcerer is very popular among the high echelons of the Imperium of Man, extending the lives of nobles or powerful figures so they can continue to serve humanity.
But the effect of rejuvenation rituals diminishes progressively until it completely loses its efficacy.
If the Tulkun brain fluid truly has the effect the woman described, then the value of this world would skyrocket to an unimaginable degree.
Sanguinius gestured to Blazkowicz with his eyes, who remained silent for a few seconds before giving a heavy nod.
The woman before them was terrified to the extreme; her physiological reactions indicated she wasn't lying, and the longevity substance indeed existed.
Since the information was reliable, it was time to take action.
"How many people know about this?" The Archon slowly spoke, his voice calm yet sending shivers down the spines of the two on the ground.
"Sir—" Miles' heart trembled, a chill rushing to his brain, his teeth chattering: "Many people. Information is extremely developed in my homeworld."
"Then how many people are in your world?" The Archon raised an eyebrow, his tone becoming heavier, making the colonel gasp for breath.
He answered tremblingly: "Our world is dying, full of factories and pollution. Twenty billion people survive on synthetic food."
Hearing this number, Blazkowicz and Sanguinius simultaneously frowned; it far exceeded the number they had in mind for "processing."
"First Company Captain!" Sanguinius roared. The man holding a greatsword in the queue stepped forward, chest out, head held high, his red armor shining like blood in the morning light.
"You take a few people to guide the way." The Primarch pointed at the mortals in the forest: "Let them guide you. Lead two companies to conquer that world, then await further instructions."
"As you command!" Raldoron immediately took the order, leading his squad to 'invite' the people out of the forest and began executing the Primarch's command.
"Third Company Captain!"
Hearing the Primarch's call, another figure stepped out, exuding an extraordinary and imposing aura.
Sanguinius pointed at the military officer before him and instructed the Third Company Captain: "You lead five hundred men, along with this mortal, to take control of their base."
"As you command!" The Third Company Captain grabbed the mortal officer from the ground and, along with the First Company, boarded the dropship, preparing to return to the orbital warship to assemble their forces.
"As for this woman—"
"Let her wait here," Blazkowicz said slowly, raising his left hand to summon his armguard, and began to call upon the warship's intelligent core.
He looked down at the doctor in the white coat: "The Iron Men will arrive in three minutes. You are responsible for assisting it in extracting the longevity substance."
"The warship will dispatch flying vehicles to follow our coordinates and airlift the respective spoils of war."
Sanguinius nodded with satisfaction, a brilliant smile on his face: "I can definitely hunt more than you."
"Take the big, leave the small," Blazkowicz said, placing his hand in front of him, giving him a final reminder: "Never drain the pond to catch all the fish."
"You can rest assured!" The Primarch's large hands clasped together, Sanguinius smiling brightly: "Such valuable things can yield considerable profits among the Imperium's nobility. A steady flow is best."
His expression suddenly became more serious, and he held up three fingers, saying extremely shrewdly: "Finders keepers, you can't hog it all!"
"You'll get your share," Blazkowicz nodded, releasing Sanguinius's arm.
The two Primarchs released their arms, signaling the official start of the hunt. The honor guard immediately plunged into the forest, beginning to hunt xenos for their brother Legion.
"I'll go ahead." Sanguinius picked up his whale-hunting harpoon, spread his wings, and soared into the air, several Mach rings bursting around him as he sped towards the deep sea.
His sons were no match for the Doom Slayer, so as the Gene-Father, he naturally had to exert himself, seizing every second to act and claim the fruits of victory.
"Watch her," Blazkowicz told the Blood Angel remaining behind, looking up at the sky as the warship began to deploy cargo.
He hoisted the giant harpoon onto his shoulder and walked towards the sea without looking back.
"Following Primarch's command." The remaining warrior performed a salute, seeing off the Warrior King, their gaze never leaving him, wanting to see how the Primarch would enter the sea.
Blazkowicz stomped his foot, the regent armor boots on his feet, looking left and right to pick a general direction.
He crouched slightly, his leg muscles instantly tensing, and a ring of air exploded beneath his feet!
Bang—!
Under the incredulous gazes of the Blood Angels, the Primarch's figure transformed into an arrow splitting water, creating a series of sonic booms as he ran across the waves.
The boots had a scattering force field that could distribute weight, increasing the contact area on soft surfaces, ensuring he wouldn't sink as long as he ran at high speed.
To achieve ultimate victory, the two brothers each displayed their unique abilities, searching the depths of the sea for the Tulkun species.
Blazkowicz ran across the sea, his supersonic speed splashing seawater high on both sides, as the Archon's helmet appeared from the void and settled on his head.
"Kid—"
"Less talk." Before the Void Dragon could complain, Blazkowicz sharply cut him off, getting straight to the point: "I want to relocate this world. What methods are there?"
Blazkowicz had pondered for a long time. Pandora possessed a longevity substance; to completely destroy it would be to betray the universe's miraculous creation.
That lost Human World, with a population of twenty billion, would be too inhumane to exterminate to prevent information leakage.
With people, information would naturally flow inevitably.
News of the Pandora world would soon appear on the desks of various Rogue Trader families, Imperium of Man dignitaries, and space pirates.
This was the edge of the galaxy, too far from the core area of Argent Nur, making governance truly troublesome and unable to guard against covetous hearts.
And the best way was to relocate the Pandora world, making it disappear from its original starfield, becoming another legend of the "Fountain of Youth."
Blazkowicz knew the Void Dragon could do it; as the overlord of the material realm, it possessed the ability to change heaven and earth.
"Heh~" The Void Dragon's projection appeared, arms crossed, looking at Blazkowicz with its faceless visage, its body language full of disdain: "Why should I help you?"
"I am the noble Void Dragon, not a servant to be ordered around. What will you give in exchange?"
"Then shut up," Blazkowicz scoffed, leaving no room for negotiation, simply stating a fact: "I believe the Old Ones also had such methods."
In ancient times, after the Webway was established, the Old Ones moved large swathes of the starfield into the Webway, creating the Webway Starfield.
The incredible power of moving stars and shifting constellations, which was unthinkable for ordinary people, was merely a spell or a subtle manifestation of secret technology to them.
"Since you're no longer useful, I'll immediately shut down the armor's intelligence and return your consciousness to darkness."
As Blazkowicz spoke, he brought up the armor's intelligent core, preparing to shut down the running intelligent program.
"See, you're getting impatient again." The Void Dragon's projection began to flicker, its data gradually collapsing, its voice growing urgent: "I was just kidding."
"Don't worry, I am the omnipotent master of the material realm. Merely relocating a star, I have ten thousand ways—"
The helmet disappeared from his head. Blazkowicz had his answer and didn't want to waste another word on it.
A group of large marine creatures appeared in his perception. He made a ninety-degree turn on the water's surface, treading the waves, and rushed towards that sea area.
His running speed was comparable to a high-speed aircraft. Soon, he saw a group of giant whales playing in the sea, accompanied by Na'vi riding sea beasts.
What a harmonious scene of coexistence!
Sound waves inaudible to mortals echoed in his ears. Blazkowicz knew the Tulkun were humming and singing; their communication was very similar to Ancient Terra's whales.
Blazkowicz was expressionless, with no mercy in his eyes. The creatures of this ecosystem were connected to the World Spirit, inherently possessing extraordinary potential.
The Na'vi now had access to technology. It wouldn't be long before they experienced a technological explosion, moving from barbarism to deep space.
There was no hesitation in dealing with potentially dangerous enemies. He raised the harpoon gun in his hand.
The sea trembled, and the giant Tulkun and Na'vi immediately panicked. They saw a black dot rapidly approaching on the sea surface.
The Tulkun chieftain let out a low moan, using ancient calls to disperse its kin and the Na'vi. Its biological instinct sensed despair approaching, utterly unstoppable.
Pfft—
The tide split in two. The giant harpoon instantly activated and plunged into the sea, the sound of the rope releasing a 'sizzle' like a death-knell string.
The majestic song of the great Tulkun abruptly ceased, replaced by a mournful wail. Its struggles now seemed utterly futile.
The harpoon plunged fiercely into the water. Adamantium easily sliced through the Tulkun's rough skin and penetrated the thick layer of blubber. The barbs on the spearhead deployed inside the cavity, lodging between the tough bones.
Blazkowicz stepped onto the azure ocean, executing an incredible maneuver on the water's surface. His strong arms gripped the Adamantium harpoon, pulling it up fiercely like a mortal operating a hoist!
The immense force straightened the high-strength steel cable. The vibrating string rippled through the air, emitting tearing sounds.
As the Tulkun's mournful cries faded, the Na'vi were startled awake, yet they struggled to comprehend what was happening before their eyes.
Although the primitive race did not understand the laws of physics, they held an unshakeable reverence for nature.
Their pupils rapidly dilated as they watched the scene in disbelief: How could a creature without wings run and walk upon the water?
The Ocean Totem wailed and choked, urging its pod to leave quickly, knowing that it had no way left to escape.
The Na'vi stood frozen, their souls trembling. This human was excessively tall and exuded the aura of an absolute superior, suppressing everyone so they dared not move.
The ocean trembled. Blazkowicz tightened the steel cable with Star-Shaking Power, and using the momentum of his rotation, he violently dragged the Tulkun, forcibly ripping it out of the sea!
What a massive fish!
He weighed the harpoon. His brain, comparable to a supercomputer, precisely calculated the prey's weight—nearly two thousand tons—based solely on the drag resistance.
A small hill rose on the water's surface. The Tulkun wailed as it was pulled out by the harpoon cable. Water droplets flung from its fins formed rainbows as it was forcibly hoisted dozens of meters into the air.
As the massive body tumbled in the air, Blazkowicz finally got a clear look at the full appearance of the Na'vi's maritime deity.
Its shape resembled cetaceans from Ancient Terra, with a large head and small tail, nearly a hundred meters long, looking like a giant club.
Above its head were two massive vertical fins, likely some sort of biological sonar receiver used to sense its kin in the ocean.
Its body rolled, exposing its soft underside, where mysterious black totems grew, holding unique and unknown symbolic significance.
The 'Tu' in the Tulkun's name likely comes from these black totems.
Having seen the giant beast's full form, Blazkowicz's exploratory curiosity completely vanished. He yanked the harpoon cable, propelling his body like an arrow flying toward the Tulkun.
Thud!
The dull sound was like muffled thunder, marking the final beat of the hunt.
Blazkowicz delivered a devastating Iron Mountain Lean. His shoulder, comparable to a massive warhammer, violently slammed into the Tulkun's chest, the force passing through its body and shattering the giant beast's internal organs.
The Tulkun could no longer produce its pleasant song. Its corpse crashed onto the sea surface, sending out weak ripples, and slowly floated on the water.
"Aaaah!!!!"
The Na'vi covered their heads with their hands, letting out painful screams. Tears streamed down like a broken dam. They couldn't believe what they were seeing; their wails articulated their inner suffering.
In just a moment of stunned silence, the Elder Patriarch of a Tulkun pod died without any power to resist, as if what they were witnessing was a vicious illusion.
They bared their teeth and grimaced at Blazkowicz, displaying primitive savagery, their eyes filled with hatred.
"Scram!"
The low roar boomed like a sudden clap of thunder, echoing in the Na'vi's ears. Although they couldn't understand the meaning of the words, the boundless majesty shattered their sanity, causing them to faint.
The Na'vi cried mournfully, pulling up their unconscious kin and riding their sea creatures away. They could not muster the will to fight the perpetrator of the tragedy.
Blazkowicz stood upon the Tulkun's body. The lifeless giant beast was pushed by the seawater, floating weakly on the surface. The bloody smell spilling from its mouth attracted many opportunistic hunters.
He crouched down and stroked the giant beast's rough skin. His vambrace projected scanning rays, and the results popped up on the back of his hand, the data forming a physical construct.
Inside the Tulkun's massive cranial cavity was a layer of naturally golden liquid, sliding across the brain folds and cavity walls, protecting the giant beast's enormous brain.
The viscous, slippery Cerebral Fluid was not only liquid protecting the brain but also contained an extremely dense amount of information, storing everything the Tulkun experienced throughout its life.
"Truly a marvelous creature." Even Blazkowicz, despite his vast knowledge, couldn't help but sigh in astonishment, marveling at the wonder of life.
The Tulkun's brain secretes Cerebral Fluid, storing excess knowledge within it and carrying it away, similar to computer data passing through RAM and being stored on a hard drive.
When specific knowledge is needed, the Tulkun's brain begins exchanging Cerebral Fluid, and the specially structured brain analyzes the fluid, retrieving the relevant information.
The so-called Longevity Substance is a special product evolved by the Tulkun's complex physiology for the long-term preservation of memories.
It is an evolutionary miracle that prevents the nervous system's sensitivity from declining after the brain reads memories too many times, thus avoiding senile dementia.
Blazkowicz slowly rose from the corpse, displaying a satisfied smile.
Not only was the news about the Longevity Substance true, which could extend the lifespan of his Trusted Subordinates, but the various unique aspects of the Tulkun also delighted him.
Every elder Tulkun symbolizes the vast knowledge of Pandora's oceans, equivalent to a rich repository of experience and wisdom.
They learn knowledge, store it, and pass it down through generations, possessing an ancient civilization and history.
Blazkowicz was not interested in the Tulkun's knowledge; his joy stemmed from a possibility.
If the elder Tulkun were killed, the giant beast civilization would be severed, allowing humanity to enslave the newborn Tulkun and breed them to obtain a continuous supply of Longevity Substance.
Humans could completely domesticate the giant beasts by twisting their history, raising them as livestock.
He looked at the scattering Tulkun pod, a bright smile appearing on his face, and began planning how to purge this race.
Black dots rapidly descended from the sky. Giant harpoons pierced the body, and Anti-Gravity Tow Ships lifted the Tulkun corpse, transporting it toward the coastal base.
Blazkowicz leaped, stepping on the waves to continue pursuing the giant beasts. He did not want to lose to Sanguinius in this hunting competition.
A massive hunt had begun!
After leaving the gathering beach, Sanguinius soared through the sky, taking advantage of the high vantage point to locate the Tulkun pods.
He encountered many small and medium-sized pods along the way but did not engage, stubbornly continuing deeper into the ocean.
The Great Angel had already activated his Psychic Language. His goal was clear and defined: to secure victory through a massive, large-scale frenzy hunt.
Soon, the Angel, distracted by his multiple times supersonic speed, spotted his target from above the clouds—a colossal pod containing a thousand Tulkun.
"I'm definitely going to win this competition!"
Sanguinius was ecstatic. He detached the Adamantium harpoon head and held it in his hand, using it as a makeshift spear.
He folded his wings, transforming into a diving falcon. His wingtips tore through the atmosphere with a shriek as he plummeted straight toward an "Elder" level Tulkun!
Boom!!!!
As the sound of a high-speed object hitting the water exploded, blood stained the ocean before the Tulkun could even react.
Sanguinius pierced the giant beast, flapping his wings to propel himself underwater. He reached the bottom of the Tulkun pod and charged upward with immense force.
The Angel's feathers were stained crimson with blood. A Tulkun flipped onto its belly, dead on the surface, adding another cloud of blood mist to the azure water.
The Tulkun pod was slightly panicked. They realized the attacker came from the sky, so they subtly turned sideways while surfacing, keeping their eyes alert toward the heavens.
Sanguinius surveyed the sea from the sky and nodded in satisfaction. His strategy was beginning to take effect.
Since the Patriarch had not yet died, the Tulkun pod did not scatter. Instead, they remained in place, forming a protective circle centered around the Patriarch.
"Dispatch the large loading vessels." Sanguinius opened his Communication Wristband and sent the order to the Void Ship, arranging for prey recovery first.
"Your order is received. Large loading vessels dispatched."
Sanguinius looked up at the sky as large vessels separated from the Void Ship and descended. He gave the Tulkun pod below a cruel smile, then transformed into a streak of white light and poured down.
The white light rose and fell, slaughtering the entire herd at a speed the Tulkun could not comprehend, showing no mercy.
Sanguinius's mercy was reserved solely for humanity; for aliens, there was only cold, absolute punishment—when his wings were stained with blood, he was the Wrathful Seraphim.
However, all his mercy was enjoyed only by humans. When facing Xeno Races, he would transform into the Wrathful Seraphim, ruthlessly delivering absolute punishment.
In just a few minutes, the entire sea area became an Asura Purgatory. The giant beasts' blood transformed the location into a sea of blood, with shattered corpses floating and internal organs tangled together.
A cargo vessel hovered in the air, using Tractor Beams to recover the Tulkun corpses, storing them all in the cargo hold and recording the number of trophies.
Sanguinius moved faster because the vessel brought bad news.
His brother had obtained the Tulkun data, decided the species was highly valuable, and ruled that they should only hunt the large ones to maintain the population, forbidding the hunting of Tulkun under seventy meters.
The Great Angel felt a pang of heartache. How many trophies had he passed up on the way before the new regulation arrived?
He shook his wings, shedding the blood, and increased his speed further. His brain rapidly calculated the angle of every impact point, planning a series of swift attacks.
As the two Primarchs began their slaughter, the ocean was boiling. The Tulkun's songs, which spread for thousands of miles, were being replaced by wails, transmitting an unprecedented crisis.