Chapter 445: The Red-Painted Space Wolves

The dozens of combat servitors unfolded their massive bodies,

just as Belisarius Cawl had said—these servitors were his meticulously designed killing machines, each of them towering like the fused corpses of five or six humans, their metallic arms wide open, revealing countless weapons Zhou Yun could not identify,

a plasma roar erupted as searing energy beams surged toward the hundred Primaris Space Marines,

"For the Emperor!!!" a purple-painted Primaris shouted first,

his voice, amplified beneath his helmet, echoed across the entire arena, thunderous and deafening, causing many humans to show fear,

as the purple-painted Primaris charged ahead, the others roared their own war cries and launched attacks against the servitors pouring fire upon them,

they were fast—faster than ordinary Space Marines—in an instant, they crossed more than half the arena,

but not fast enough; the servitors, equipped with Cawl's specialized weapons, rapidly dissipated their heat and unleashed a second volley amid a torrent of steam,

Cawl, to demonstrate the Primaris' capabilities, had permitted them only combat knives—this was cruel,

Zhou Yun clearly saw a Primaris struck by an energy beam, half his skull sheared off, crashing heavily to the ground,

and the purple-painted Primaris who had shouted first—his power armor torn open by the beam, his lower abdomen seared into a horrific wound—yet he gritted his teeth, driven by pride alone, continuing his charge toward the servitors,

to Belisarius Cawl, this seemed a necessary part of demonstrating the Primaris,

Guilliman observed these new warriors with cold eyes, his emotions unreadable,

Zhou Yun saw it as a waste—the cost of Astartes, especially Primaris, was exorbitant,

he extended one finger slightly; beside him, Doraemon's fingertip shot out a string of flowers, retrieving the fallen Primaris' corpse from the arena floor,

then, with a flick of his finger, he touched the shattered skull—and the Primaris instantly revived, eyes snapping wide open, his head restored whole,

this was the power of the Realm of Entropy to reverse life and death—so long as the soul had not yet been dragged into the Warp and still lingered within the material universe, Zhou Yun could resurrect them like this, out of thin air,

most importantly, this resurrection cost no money—only Zhou Yun's strength, stamina, and the power he held within the Warp,

the Primaris' eyes were filled with confusion, but before he could speak, Zhou Yun, controlling Doraemon, casually tossed him aside,

everything he had just done drew startled glances; many humans began whispering prayers, while the Imperial officials—especially the High Lords—looked distinctly uneasy,

though they had long heard of Zhou Yun's ability to reverse death, this was the first time they had witnessed it—they suddenly realized that, if Zhou Yun wished, death would no longer be their retirement,

meanwhile, the arena had descended into close combat; the purple-painted Astartes swiftly severed the head of a ranged servitor, then lunged at another with a phoenix-like motion, killing two servitors in the blink of an eye, demonstrating lethal efficiency,

he earned a slight nod from Guilliman, who seemed satisfied,

but another Primaris was slashed open, flesh and bone torn apart—the servitor's screaming plasma blade proved especially deadly,

fortunately, Belisarius Cawl understood Zhou Yun's intent; the servitors ceased lethal strikes, instead pulling their blows at critical moments, wounding the Primaris enough to signal their elimination without killing them,

one servitor after another fell, yet the Primaris were also being eliminated one by one,

they were still taller, faster, and stronger than ordinary Space Marines, yet their combat felt… mechanical, dull, rigid—efficient, but far from perfect,

Guilliman frowned slightly, clearly dissatisfied with the Primaris' performance,

"What do you think of these Primaris Space Marines?" Zhou Yun asked Khaen and Seth,

Zhou Yun considered himself no combatant, unfamiliar with warfare—but Khaen and Seth were masters of the path of slaughter; their opinions held greater value,

"Why are they painted in Blood Angels colors?" Seth demanded sharply,

"Obviously, they are Blood Angels," Khaen replied, glancing at Seth,

"I see nothing but red-painted Space Wolves!" Seth's face twisted, fangs barely exposed,

watching the Primaris in the arena—stiff, lifeless, fighting without a shred of killing intent, as if solving a puzzle—he wore a look of utter disgust,

red-painted Space Wolves—a sharp, unmistakably Seth-style assessment,

Guilliman must have heard—he sighed, rubbing his forehead, as if both agreeing with Seth and exasperated by him,

stiff, mechanical, rigid—it did seem accurate; Zhou Yun, watching the battlefield, felt Seth's critique had merit,

he turned again to Khaen, seeking his opinion,

Khaen stared at the Primaris in the arena, his gaze flickering uncertainly,

"Did they use traitor gene-seed?" Khaen blurted out,

at this, Guilliman's expression turned strange; he turned to look at Belisarius Cawl,

Khaen had sensed it almost instinctively—some traitor gene-seed had been mixed into these Primaris,

subtle, but Khaen saw traces of the old War Hounds' style on some of them,

and that purple-painted Primaris—the one with the best record, the most refined killing technique—wasn't that a Son of the Emperor? Couldn't he at least pretend?

Cawl had always held a belief: the Emperor created twenty Space Marine Legions for a reason—twenty Legions, twenty gene-sequences, each complementary, each indispensable,

so it was entirely possible he had secretly manufactured several traitor Legion Astartes—perhaps more than several,

fortunately, Khaen had spoken softly; only Zhou Yun and the two Primarchs with enhanced hearing had heard,

"I didn't ask you that," Zhou Yun said, slightly exasperated: "I asked you how these Primaris Astartes performed,"

Khaen paused, then answered: "They have bodies suited for slaughter, but no skills suited for it,"

"Give me eight minutes—I can kill them all,"

Zhou Yun nodded slightly; he knew Khaen was not boasting,

even the most elite Gargantulan Terminators under Abaddon, Khaen slaughtered like chopping vegetables—he had once slain Saint Celestine, then fought alone against hundreds of Black Legionaries and Abaddon himself,

though the Primaris were enhanced Astartes, their gap with Khaen was still far too wide,

but then Khaen suddenly placed his hand on the hilt of his chainsword, Bloodchild,

he exhaled a faint breath of blood-steam; the Nail of the Butcher on his head emitted a soft hum,

"Shadow Step? Or Night Lords stealth? Both resemble it,"

Khaen growled, his eyes like a wolf hunting prey, scanning the surroundings:

"Lord, I retract my dismissal of the Primaris—one of them is dangerous,"

"One Primaris is watching us secretly—he's displeased with what I just said; his emotional surge betrayed him,"

"I didn't notice!" Seth snapped his head toward Khaen, fangs slightly bared,

he did not doubt Khaen's judgment—he had sparred with this mysterious man before and knew his strength,

Seth even suspected Khaen might be a Blood Angel himself; his fighting style resembled the Flesh Tearers—ferocious, bloodthirsty,

he was merely furious at himself for failing in his duty as guardian,

"He hides well… heh, Lord, shall I go fetch him?" Khaen gripped his axe, his voice tinged with madness,

Khaen found the Primaris watching them intriguing—a worthy target for slaughter,

"No need," Zhou Yun glanced at Khaen and shook his head,

he had a good idea who Khaen meant—the hidden Primaris,

Belisarius Cawl's creation—the Primaris Prime,

it was Cawl's unique design, the template for all Primaris, infused with gene-seeds from all twenty Legions, genetically modified like the Imperial Guard, endowed with extraordinary psychic power and an almost immortal body,

it was Cawl's most painstaking masterpiece, a technological miracle he could never replicate—he had even injected his own gene-seed into the Primaris Prime, making the Primaris Prime nearly his son, and nearly the Primaris' own Primarch,

of course, the Primaris Prime still fell far short of a true Primarch, and Cawl's genetic modifications still had flaws—the Primaris Prime endured constant, unrelenting pain, an imperfect creation,

Khaen must have sensed his presence just now,

the Primaris Prime possessed the full gene-seed of all twenty Legions; theoretically, he could simultaneously use the stealth abilities of both the Raven Guard and the Night Lords,

it was normal for Seth to miss him—if not for his emotional surge of hostility toward Khaen, Khaen himself might not have noticed,

yet he had not hidden from Zhou Yun—at least, not entirely; after all, he wore power armor, and its machine-soul loudly proclaimed its presence to Zhou Yun,

and likely, he had not hidden from Guilliman or Sanguinius either,

Zhou Yun noticed that Sanguinius seemed to be deep in thought,

(End of Chapter)