Bang!!!!
Ultimately, it was the perception honed by the Superpower Training Box that helped Finnie react.
His body spun sharply, and he held his Power Sword horizontally, colliding with the teardrop-shaped spear, similar to the Spear of Accomplishment.
A colossal force, like a meteor striking the ground, assailed him. Finnie felt that the power of this spear strike was several times stronger than Gabriel Seth's full-force Chainsword swings against him in the training ground, almost shattering his arm bones.
Finnie's eyes were wide with fury; he was not only squeezing every ounce of strength from his superhuman body but also every wisp of will from his brain, transforming it into Psyker energy to block the spear.
Bang!!!!
With a crisp sound, Finnie's Power Sword, unable to withstand the immense pressure, shattered on the spot and stuck diagonally into the ground nearby.
The blood-stained, corrupted spear was also flung away.
"To block this spear, you are considered among the foremost Astartes who flow with the blood of Sanguinius," a clear voice rang out.
Snow-white wings, stained with crimson, slowly vibrated, and long, golden-thread-like hair danced in the foul wind.
The moment that figure appeared, a surge of intense rage erupted in the hearts of all the monks flowing with the blood of Sanguinius in this blood-filled breeding ground.
Especially after seeing the figure's face, that rage intensified.
That face was almost identical to Sanguinius', only the eyes were redder, and the fangs protruded slightly past the upper lip, making him appear far more bloodthirsty than the true Sanguinius.
The Red Angel, a daemon of the Blood God born from the anger of all Blood Angels, descended into this breeding ground, gazing at Finnie with a crimson hunger.
"If you embrace your true desires and unleash your anger, you will be even more excellent," the Red Angel said with a smile.
Every word he spoke stimulated Finnie, constantly awakening the crimson hunger within him.
Finnie gritted his teeth, suppressing the hunger and rage within him, and growled, "Imposter."
This caused the Red Angel to sneer two or three times: "Imposter?"
"How do you know that the Sanguinius the cursed one originally intended to create wasn't this very appearance of mine?"
"All beings know that the Blood Angels come from the gene-sequence of Sanguinius, but before Sanguinius' return, how did those ghouls resemble angels in the slightest?"
"Ghouls were the cursed one's true design for you, for Sanguinius; angels were merely a mutation that arose by chance."
"You shouldn't suppress your true nature. Embrace it, accept that you are ghouls, and you will be more comfortable."
"..And you dare to call yourself a Primarch?" Finnie gritted his teeth, trying to maintain his sanity, as he pointed his broken sword at the Red Angel: "If so, why do you hide your head and show your tail, not daring to face Sanguinius and Lion El'Jonson?"
Finnie had just realized that the Red Angel was not as close to a Primarch as he claimed.
If it had been the true Sanguinius striking, Finnie would have had no chance of blocking that spear.
The Red Angel was not that strong!
Finnie had sparred with many skilled Blood Angels over the decades.
In his impression, among the Blood Angels, besides the Primarch, without using Psyker powers, the strongest was Chapter Master Dante, who had undergone Primaris enhancement, followed by Gabriel Seth, the Chapter Master of the Flesh Tearers, and Seth was far stronger than Finnie.
According to Finnie's judgment, the Red Angel's strength was, at most, slightly superior to Dante's, and far from Sanguinius'.
Finnie, at least, still had a fighting chance.
The Red Angel's cheek twitched slightly, as if Finnie's words had somewhat provoked him.
"Soon you will know what to call me," the Red Angel let out a low growl with a scent of blood.
The bloody ritual was underway. Corinal itself was a sacrificial ground, and the Sons of Sanguinius who had died filled with rage were the Red Angel's offerings.
The Red Angel could feel the blood flowing, could feel himself getting closer and closer to Sanguinius; it would be soon... it would be soon...
"Why waste words with them? Just kill them," a low growl awakened the Red Angel.
Profane Chaos corruption blew like a fierce wind. The tall man, clad in Terminator power armor and sporting an upright topknot, stepped into the breeding ground, treading through the pool of blood. In his hand, he held a dark blue daemon sword formed from countless human faces; merely looking at the sword made all the humans present feel as if they faced a natural predator.
The Chaos Warmaster, Great Despoiler Abaddon, coldly surveyed his surroundings:
"Everything is proceeding according to our plan. The C'tan has stopped the Lion, Lion El'Jonson, and Perturabo has also stopped Sanguinius. The only problem is that Vashtorr has disappeared somewhere."
"Why do you not hasten to slaughter, complete the ritual, and let yourself replace Sanguinius?"
Abaddon's urgency was largely due to the fact that he was currently relying on Vashtorr's creations to restore his peak combat strength.
But the effects of Vashtorr's creations were time-limited. The longer it dragged on, the more likely Abaddon was to revert to his severely wounded and paralyzed state, and thus the more dangerous it became.
"You are right."
The Red Angel smiled:
"I truly shouldn't waste any more pity on this traitor."
"Finnie, go and die."
The moment the words fell, the Red Angel's figure appeared before Finnie. At some unknown point, the spear, shaped like the Spear of Accomplishment, was also in the Red Angel's hand.
The spear instantly thrust down. Finnie struggled to raise his broken sword to block it.
But the Red Angel's strength was suddenly a notch stronger than before, forcefully shaking the broken sword from Finnie's hand.
"Fool, do you, a mere Captain, dare to fight me?"
"I am the Primarch's embryo, the Red Angel who will eventually replace Sanguinius."
"Every time an Astartes flowing with sacred blood dies in anger on this planet, I get one step closer to being a Primarch."
"Both of your Primarchs are trapped by my plan. Who else can fight me?"
The Red Angel sneered, and the spear traced an arc, thrusting directly at Finnie's throat.
"So, I am here," a slightly mocking voice rang out. The war hammer, engraved with a two-headed eagle, swung out from the void, directly blocking the Red Angel's spear.
The Red Angel's spear was forcefully knocked back by that hammer blow. He looked with a somewhat stiff expression at the man who had suddenly emerged from a pinkish-red doorway.
His silver-white hair fluttered from the air current stirred by the collision of hammer and spear, revealing a pair of violet eyes. Those eyes were gazing at the Red Angel with a mocking look, and a slight, disdainful smile played at his thin lips:
"Also, you dare to call yourself the Primarch's embryo?"
The Iron Ring robot swung its gravity hammer, smashing like a steel meteor towards that pure white figure.
The gravity hammer stirred gravity, but the heavy hammer, capable of easily crushing an Astartes into pulp, was casually blocked by that spear, light as an artifact.
Then, the thick Karchev combat shield was pierced in the blink of an eye, and this Iron Ring robot collapsed with a thud.
But Perturabo was not in a hurry. He had barely been active in the galaxy for the past ten thousand years. When he had nothing to do, he would practice by crafting Iron Ring robots.
After ten thousand years, he had accumulated countless Iron Ring robots. Just for this trip to Corinal, he had brought a full three hundred of them.
One should remember that in the past, Perturabo could contend with Angron with just fifty Iron Ring robots.
These Iron Ring robots formed a circular array, raising their shields to form a wall, protecting Perturabo within.
"Fire," Perturabo said in his characteristic grim voice.
The Olympic bolter cannons began to unleash fist-sized shells at the Primarch. This rain of fire and steel instantly engulfed Sanguinius' figure.
But soon, Sanguinius gently vibrated his wings, elegantly flying into the sky, arcing at a speed that even the Iron Ring robots' barrage could not keep up with, then suddenly charging towards Perturabo.
Perturabo's will stirred, his thoughts transforming into commands that flooded into the Iron Rings' central control. Instantly, all the Iron Ring robots raised their war hammers, and hundreds of roaring lightning bolts simultaneously surged and shot towards Sanguinius.
Sanguinius neither dodged nor flinched, swinging the Spear of Accomplishment in mid-air to meet them directly. Powerful Psyker energy collided with the lightning unleashed by the Iron Ring robots, and for a moment, neither gained the upper hand.
Psyker energy and lightning clashed and scattered, yet Sanguinius' figure directly and forcefully passed through the intersection of the two energies, flying down with the Spear of Accomplishment in hand, the spearhead thrusting straight at Perturabo's head.
The Iron Rings instantly arrayed themselves, protecting Perturabo with layers of thick shields.
But in the blink of an eye, Sanguinius swung his spear, destroying more than a dozen Iron Ring robots. Perturabo had no choice but to swing his war hammer to block.
Spear and hammer collided, and the two Primarchs directly engaged each other.
"You don't seem to be in a hurry," Perturabo said, his pale eyes fixed on Sanguinius. He could sense that Sanguinius had not yet used his full strength.
A smile flitted across Sanguinius' lips: "Do you truly believe the Red Angel can replace me?"
"Whether he can replace you is none of my concern," Perturabo replied indifferently: "I am merely here to fulfill a contract, and to exact revenge on your shameful thieving Sons."
"Actually, they are not my Sons; you have the wrong person," Sanguinius said, somewhat unconcerned: "However, I admit, their theft of your sister's replica was indeed a bit audacious."
Perturabo let out an angry grunt, his heavy hammer forcing Sanguinius back.
Sanguinius flew back slightly, gracefully shedding the force of Perturabo's heavy hammer.
"Perturabo, my brother, among the traitors, you are the one I understand the least."
"Why exactly did you betray the Imperium? And what did you gain from betrayal?"
"You think we didn't give you enough respect? But did the traitors give it to you? We all know what Fulgrim did to you."
"You grew tired of the dirty and arduous work? But after you joined the traitors, weren't you still doing that very same work?"
"Think about it, if you hadn't betrayed the Imperium, and remained loyal to it, during the ten thousand years that Guilliman and Dorn were absent, you would have been the Imperium's sole Primarch."
"You could have been the wise king you always wanted to be. You could have freely built the Imperium into your desired ideal state, a utopia. You could have achieved far greater accomplishments than even Dorn."
"What exactly are you trying to say?!" Perturabo demanded, growling.
"Are you interested in returning to be the Regent of the Imperium's Shadow Side?" Sanguinius asked with a brilliant smile, as if joking yet also serious.