Chapter 369: I Am the God of Muscles, Your Fitness Coach!

A thick book radiating the luster of adamantium sliced through the thin lunar air, producing sharp, piercing shrieks as if reality itself were screaming.

The heavy book collided with Fat Tiger Demon's bat, Magnus's psychic power manifesting as pure physical impact, clashing against the Emperor's psychic flame on the bat.

That power was the portion of "Death" the Emperor had carved out and given to Zhou Yun, but to Zhou Yun's surprise, Magnus's pure force swiftly overwhelmed Fat Tiger Demon's bat.

Magnus violently yanked the chain wrapped around his wrist and flew toward The Book of Magnus, defying all physical laws.

He seized the heavy book and swung its sharp, spike-mounted corner down at Fat Tiger Demon's head with exquisite skill—far superior to Zhou Yun's combat incompetence.

Zhou Yun hastily raised his bat to block, barely deflecting the blow.

This is insane—is this what an Primarch can do when he's truly pushing himself?

What stunned Zhou Yun even more was Magnus's martial artistry—it didn't match the Magnus Zhou Yun knew.

Could he have simply thought himself into mastering such refined combat technique?

That's just too convenient.

And this is still Magnus after being weakened twice—by the Silent Sisters and anti-psychic missiles—no longer able to wield those blasphemous sorceries.

Zhou Yun had fought Primarchs before—he'd sparred with Sanguinius and Guilliman multiple times.

But sparring was one thing; true lethal combat was another.

Fat Tiger Demon drew a deep breath, his power extending in all directions, engulfing the entire Moon.

That brutal, all-consuming force spread to every corner of the lunar surface.

The Moon was not uninhabited; beneath its icy surface, in its subterranean hive-cities, billions of humans lived.

Most were workers producing industrial goods for Terra, their bodies hardened and strengthened through relentless training.

They were all Fat Tiger Demon's friends!

Since they were friends, he'd borrow their strength!!

Not just the workers—those Astartes who followed Guilliman to the Moon, the Imperial Guard and Battle Sisters yet to arrive, the Praetorian Guard—

All their power was lent to Fat Tiger Demon.

Fat Tiger Demon forcibly pushed the bat back, maintaining a dangerous stalemate with Magnus.

"What powerful muscles! What immense muscular strength!"

Magnus couldn't help but exclaim:

"You must've trained endlessly, consumed tons of protein powder, and injected loads of anabolic steroids!"

"I'm all natural!"

Fat Tiger Demon swung his bat violently to create distance, growling:

"I just borrow strength from friends—each friend is one of my muscle fibers!"

"Huh?" Magnus didn't grasp the meaning behind Zhou Yun's words.

But Fat Tiger Demon seized the brief opening, switched the bat to his left hand, and slammed it hard into Magnus's skull.

Magnus was indeed faster—he instantly raised his right hand, The Book of Magnus, to block.

"Fus!!!!!!"

"Ro!!!"

"Dah!!!"

The incantation burst from Fat Tiger Demon's mouth, causing reality to shudder rhythmically.

Fat Tiger Demon's right hand exploded—and so did Magnus's right hand.

The Book of Magnus fell from Magnus's shattered arm, while Zhou Yun's left-hand bat struck Magnus's face with full force.

Magnus's head snapped sideways, blood gushing uncontrollably from his face.

Yet The Book of Magnus had somehow reappeared in Magnus's left hand, swinging down hard toward Fat Tiger Demon's head.

But at that moment, a powerful gravity surge erupted from the ground beneath Magnus, and the gray-white dust suspended in the air plummeted violently downward.

Hidden in the shadows, Zhou Yun had spent several minutes taming the terraforming engine's machine-spirit within the Moon's core, successfully awakening its gravity-control function.

Magnus could not fully overcome gravity's pull—his heavy book's swing veered sharply off course.

Fat Tiger Demon swiftly retreated from Magnus.

Magnus barely shook his severed limb; his immense psychic power flooded into it, fully restoring it.

"How could such powerful muscles vanish from a mere severed limb!"

Magnus roared, charging again at Zhou Yun with the heavy book.

"The contents of The Book of Magnus are dwindling—Magnus's knowledge is continuously fading."

"Both are approaching ignorance—and this seems to draw Magnus closer to his true essence."

Sanguinius's strained voice echoed from Zhou Yun's fourth-dimensional pocket, his weakness slightly lessened:

"That's why The Book of Magnus suddenly reappeared in his hand—they've become inseparable."

"Theoretically, he can no longer use sorcery—his essence has been weakened—but this very weakening lets him channel his power more fluidly."

Zhou Yun listened to Sanguinius's words while manipulating the terraforming engine to reduce gravity around Fat Tiger Demon, making his body lighter so he could dodge Magnus's swinging book.

At that instant, a longsword wreathed in golden flame stabbed out, piercing straight through Magnus's chest.

The Emperor's Sword drove deep into crimson muscle—but Magnus's flesh seemed to come alive, each fiber squeezing the blade, preventing deeper penetration.

Robert Guilliman, whose Fate Armor had been hastily repaired by Belisarius Cawl, re-entered the battle.

Seeing the Emperor's Sword couldn't pierce deeper, he slammed a heavy punch into Magnus's face.

Magnus tried to swing the heavy book to block—but Zhou Yun commanded Fat Tiger Demon to seize Magnus's left hand, restraining him while lunging close to his ear.

The Hand of Dominion made direct contact with Magnus's face—power sufficient to topple a Titan was applied, while the modified bolt round screamed past, causing Magnus to cry out in pain.

But more painful than the punch was—

"I'm Fat Tiger!!! I'm the King of Kids!!!"

"I'm the invincible MAN!!!"

Deafening singing blasted into Magnus's ears, piercing his eardrums, drilling into his brainstem—blood trickled uncontrollably from his nose.

Even a Primarch suffered real damage from Fat Tiger Demon's singing.

Guilliman seized the moment, yanking the Emperor's Sword from Magnus's chest and slashing downward at his legs.

The Emperor's psychic flame ignited Magnus's legs; the agony made him stagger forward—Guilliman used his newly repaired knee to ram into Magnus's chest.

Zhou Yun seized the opening, commanding Fat Tiger Demon to step forward and raise his baseball bat high.

Magnus struggled to rise—but gravity around him surged violently, and Guilliman clamped down on his head, slowing his movement for a crucial instant.

The bat forged from the Emperor's Death struck Magnus's back with full force.

A crisp snap of shattered spine echoed across the Moon's dark sky—Magnus let out a heart-wrenching scream.

At that moment, Tzeentch, crouched atop the veil between reality and the Warp, sweated profusely.

He had already lost his Chief Daemon, Carlos—he couldn't afford to lose another Daemon Primarch.

A Chief Daemon could be reshaped; though inferior to Carlos in quality, he might still rival the other three.

But Primarchs were different—there were only a handful of powerful Warp entities capable of birthing them.

The order of the 500 worlds of Ultramar, the echoes of Sanguinius's death, The Book of Magnus brimming with knowledge from the Great Crusade, the Ancient One's relic Ouroboros, the ancient experiments in ice-fire and monster-myth reconstruction, the Dark King's sacrifice, the eternal, unquenchable fire of Death, the final cornerstone of the last church, the crow-shadows cast by liberation, revolution, and guerrilla warfare in the Warp, the purest and most terrifying yearning for simple justice, the lingering resonance of the era when Yin and Yang balanced between the Warp and reality—

These things could not be replicated—they were more precious than Carlos, who walked from the Eternal Well.

Tzeentch did not wish to lose even one—even if Magnus was now little more than an intellectual cripple.

But Tzeentch's power was now mostly tied up in watching Nurgles and Slaanesh.

If he projected power to Magnus, Slaanesh and Nurgles would surely tear a chunk from him.

Moreover, Magnus's will was now largely beyond Tzeentch's control.

Trying to corrupt him with knowledge again would likely fail.

But Tzeentch knew exactly how to manipulate Magnus's mind again—just one phrase, only one phrase—

Yet that phrase made Tzeentch grit his teeth.

He was a liar, yes—but this lie was beneath his dignity.

The agony of his shattered spine was so intense it nearly awakened deep physical memories within Magnus.

The memory of being kicked through the spine by the Wolf King Leman Russ tormented his spirit, amplifying his pain.

He struggled to rise—but his broken spine flooded him with weakness.

At the same time, Guilliman and Zhou Yun raised the Emperor's Sword and the bat, preparing to deliver the final blow.

But then, faint bird calls drifted into Magnus's ears.

"You—you are?!" Magnus asked inwardly, sensing the birdcall trying to implant something into his mind.

"... 'm Gagga."

The birdcall hesitated, then croaked twice before saying:

"I am the God of Muscles, your fitness coach."

"Come, disciple—let me administer the Nine Bird Acupuncture to awaken your muscle power."

"Acidic Group Wave Bird, Metinon Bird, Stenbo Bird, Quetuo Bird, Metinon Bird, Oxandrolone Bird, Recovery Bird, Kangle Bird, Mibei Bird—STAB THEM ALL!!"

(End of Chapter)