Compared to ranged weapons, Space Wolves favored and excelled with melee weapons.
Bloodhowl gripped his storm axe, its power field crackling.
The effects of Strength II and Swiftness II, combined with the already formidable physiology of an Astartes, produced a miraculous chemical reaction.
"Krom Gat!" Bloodhowl's golden eyes widened, his rage bristling. He recognized the renowned Warsmith before him.
The storm axe drove straight in, hacking towards his opponent.
Krom Gat was startled by the speed; he had long heard of the Space Wolves' agility, but witnessing it firsthand far exceeded his imagination.
He reacted immediately. At such close range, instead of his bolter, Krom Gat chose the Siege Breaker mace at his side.
He slid back and to the side, swinging the heavy mace diagonally upward to parry the flat of the axe blade, attempting to deflect the attack.
His other hand, equipped with a lightning claw, thrust straight for Bloodhowl's exposed ribs.
Clang—
Mace and great axe collided. Krom Gat felt his arm go heavy as the impact jarred the heavy mace right out of his hand.
Damn it, how is this barbarian so strong?
The block still served its purpose; Bloodhowl's chop was deflected, the axe blade embedding deeply into the ground beside him.
Bloodhowl didn't even bother trying to pull the axe out. He let go of the handle and smashed a fist directly into Krom Gat's head.
The two wrestled together. Bloodhowl fully utilized his speed advantage, using every means necessary—even headbutting his opponent with his helmet—completely immersed in the fervor of battle.
Thanks to the potion effects, Bloodhowl indeed held the upper hand. His speed and strength left Krom Gat overwhelmed.
Krom Gat took several heavy blows, his chest plate denting inward.
However, Krom Gat was experienced in battle. He quickly adjusted his strategy, shifting entirely to defense, patiently enduring and waiting for an opportunity.
His side had the numerical advantage. As long as he held out until his bodyguards finished off those five Space Wolf dogs, they could surround and kill this one.
Krom Gat glanced at the surrounding melee out of the corner of his eye.
He saw a Wolf Guard endure the impact of a bolter round to saw through an Iron Warrior's leg armor.
Another Iron Warrior attacked from behind, running a sword through the Wolf Guard's chest.
And then? That Wolf Guard acted like nothing had happened. He stuffed something whole into his mouth, forcibly pulled the sword out of his own chest, and then stabbed it back into its owner.
On average, it was two Iron Warriors against one Space Wolf, despite the numerical superiority, they were unable to take them down?
Damn it, are these Wolf Guards possessed by Khorne?
Krom Gat knew very well that the Iron Warriors he had personally led might not match the Emperor's Executioners in single combat, but their coordination far exceeded that of the Space Wolves.
Why was the gap so massive, resulting in such a one-sided situation?
"You dare get distracted while facing me?"
Bloodhowl's voice pulled him back. Krom Gat had hesitated due to his shock.
Bloodhowl also saw his pups fighting one against two without losing ground.
A surge of pride welled up in his heart. As their Wolf Lord, how could he lag behind?
The storm axe swung again. Bloodhowl abandoned all defense.
Krom Gat's mace smashing toward his vitals? He didn't care.
Krom Gat's lightning claw aiming for his heart? He simply thrust his chest forward, letting the claw tips pierce his armor—this way, he could better pin down one of his opponent's hands.
"You reckless maniac!" Krom Gat began to lose his footing, looking incredibly ragged.
Bloodhowl was like a maggot in the bone, pressing closer with every step, every strike carrying the resolve of mutual destruction.
"He's hurt worse than I am. He can't hold on," Krom Gat gritted his teeth and persevered, desperately protecting his vital points.
He firmly believed that Bloodhowl couldn't sustain this suicidal fighting style for long.
Krom Gat was being pounded like a sandbag by Bloodhowl, thump after thump. But he sensed Bloodhowl's strength waning.
It's getting weaker. Sure enough, he couldn't maintain that berserk state for long. There was still hope.
Are the potion effects wearing off? Wolf Lord Bloodhowl realized what was happening. He halted his rain-like offensive and used the momentum to leap backward.
Taking advantage of this gap, Krom Gat gasped for breath and looked at the retreating Wolf Lord.
Wolf Lord Bloodhowl pulled out two potions and simultaneously fished an Enchanted Golden Apple from a pouch at his waist.
Holding the golden fruit, he grinned at Krom Gat.
He pulled off his helmet and threw it on the ground. With this thing, I don't even need a helmet anymore.
Under Krom Gat's gaze, Bloodhowl wolfed it down, consuming the potions along with the Golden Apple.
Krom Gat watched helplessly as the wounds on Bloodhowl's body and his slightly flagging aura vanished completely.
Amidst a burst of golden light, the opponent's condition returned to its peak—perhaps even better than before.
You have got to be kidding me. A sense of powerlessness welled up in his heart. It was all over.
All calculations, all tactics—in this moment, they meant nothing.
"For Russ and the Allfather!"
Bloodhowl roared, forcibly knocking aside the heavy mace with his storm axe and cleaving it into Krom Gat's head.
With the sound of shattering metal, Krom Gat's helmet, along with a small portion of his skull, flew off.
Without the helmet, Bloodhowl finally saw Krom Gat's true face.
Through those eyes, Bloodhowl could feel the traitor's hatred for the Imperium—the very hatred that had driven him to sell his soul to Chaos.
Betrayal. Bloodhowl loathed that word.
The surviving Iron Warrior bodyguards, seeing their leader in mortal danger, let out roars of fury.
Disregarding the Wolf Guards in front of them, they raised their guns and fired a volley at Wolf Lord Bloodhowl.
Bloodhowl just stood there, bathed in the hail of bullets. The bolter rounds exploded but failed to shake him in the slightest.
The damage absorption and regeneration provided by the Enchanted Golden Apple made him a god of war.
The Space Wolf squad let out a low, collective growl that rippled from one end of their unit to the other.
Like a wolf pack celebrating a successful hunt. Bloodhowl enjoyed this sound; he could feel the joy coursing through his veins.
He had relied on a little bit of outside help, but that didn't stop this from being an overwhelming victory.
He pointed his storm axe at Krom Gat. It was time to end this battle.
--
Next Goal: 200 Powerstones
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