Chapter 448

"Let me handle it, Kaul." A voice emerged from the shadows.

A Space Marine, taller than the Primaris, nearly matching Kaul's monstrous frame, stepped forth from the darkness.

He wore black-and-gold powered armor, bearing no heraldry of any chapter—only a single High Gothic letter "A" on his shoulder plate, as if marking him with unique status.

Both the veteran Astartes and the Primaris felt bewildered; they had not sensed his presence at all, as if their minds had deliberately ignored him.

The warrior's appearance drew Guilliman's gaze.

Guilliman had sensed him earlier, yet seeing him in person still gave him an uncanny feeling.

"Kaul, won't you introduce us to this warrior?" Guilliman said, raising his voice slightly.

Kaul's body stiffened, but before he could speak, the towering Space Marine spoke first.

"My lord, I have no true name, but my master Kaul calls me Primaris Prime." The warrior who called himself Primaris Prime spoke thus.

The Primaris were all bewildered; none had known of Primaris Prime's existence.

"You resemble me," Guilliman stared at Primaris Prime. "You resemble me and my brothers."

This remark stunned everyone present.

A chill ran down their spines; they stared in fear at the silent Belisarius Kaul.

Had Kaul even attempted to create…

"No, my lord."

Primaris Prime bowed deeply, speaking with humility.

"You are perfection, the Emperor's masterwork, imbued with unmatched power by the Emperor himself."

"To be honest, I envy and revere you and your brothers, for I am but an imperfect creation, an abomination that should never have been born—a product of a second-rate tinkerer."

Those around him exhaled in relief.

Zhou Yun was not surprised; he knew of Primaris Prime's existence.

And if Kaul could truly recreate a Primarch, Zhou Yun thought, even Guilliman or the Emperor might kneel before him.

Guilliman found it mildly amusing—Kaul had tolerated Primaris Prime calling him a second-rate tinkerer.

This clashed with Kaul's usual pride; Guilliman sensed Kaul's faint, almost imperceptible indulgence toward Primaris Prime—

an indulgence Saint Guilliman could not perceive, the kind a father shows a child, which Guilliman had once felt from Konor.

Did Kaul see Primaris Prime as his child?

"Will you fight for Kaul?" Guilliman asked with a smile.

"Kaul is indeed a second-rate tinkerer, but he did well with the Primaris."

Primaris Prime said:

"Moreover, since I bear the title Primaris Prime, I naturally wish to defend the Primaris's honor."

Zhou Yun and Saint Guilliman watched Primaris Prime with keen interest.

Zhou Yun sensed that beyond his stated reasons, Primaris Prime mainly sought to align himself with Saint Guilliman's actions—to shatter the veteran Astartes' contempt for the Primaris.

Hence, he deliberately grouped himself with the Primaris.

Yet though he called himself Primaris Prime, he was in truth closer to the Imperial Guard and the Primarchs—a product of biological alchemy, fused from twenty legion gene-sequence lines, utterly distinct from the Primaris.

Additionally, Primaris Prime seemed curious about Kaen.

"Kaul, do you agree?" Zhou Yun, eager to see Primaris Prime's strength, asked Kaul.

Kaul, hearing Zhou Yun speak, naturally did not oppose; he bowed deeply to Zhou Yun, showing his allegiance to Saint Doraemon's will.

Primaris Prime entered the arena.

"Just you?" Seth frowned, eyeing Primaris Prime oddly.

Two reasons made him uneasy:

First, duels were traditionally two-on-two, a custom dating back to the Great Crusade.

Second, he smelled blood—on Primaris Prime.

Primaris Prime carried a faint trace of Blood Angel blood, stronger than the self-proclaimed Blood Angels among the Primaris, yet not pure—mixed with something else.

"Just me," Primaris Prime said softly. "I have no brothers to fight alongside."

He was the only one of his kind in the galaxy, a creation Kaul himself could not replicate—there were none like him.

"I'll go," Seth glanced at Kaen. "You took the first turn."

Kaen nodded slightly, tore off a length of chain from his arm, and tossed it to Seth.

Seth caught it, casting Kaen a strange look.

"Wrap it on," Kaen gestured for Seth to chain his chainsword to his arm.

Seth raised an eyebrow but did not argue; he bound the weapon to his arm with the chain Kaen had thrown.

He swung the chained Bloodletter once, testing its feel, then nodded in satisfaction.

"Just you?" Primaris Prime asked.

"Just me," Seth lowered his stance like a stalking beast. "Don't say we outnumber you, you bastard."

Seth merely used "bastard" to provoke Primaris Prime—but accidentally struck true.

Primaris Prime was indeed a hybrid of twenty legions, a genuine bastard.

A flash of fury crossed his eyes as he drew his precision power sword from his belt.

Seth's lips curled slightly, revealing fangs; he studied Primaris Prime, searching for an opening.

But the more he watched, the more he was stunned—what an immensely powerful frame.

A gust of wind seemed to rise, swift as a storm across a grassland under an open sky.

In a blink, Primaris Prime stood before Seth, swinging his power sword down.

"So fast! Like a White Scar!" Seth cried out, hastily raising his chainsword to block.

Power sword met chainsword; the chain on Seth's arm jolted violently, clanging with metallic noise.

The Warlord of the Flesh Tearers grunted, his eyes flooding with crimson, fangs pressing against his lower lip.

A savage, bloody, terrifying war cry tore from Seth's throat; his body swirled with bloody aura, muscles bulging grotesquely.

"Blood and rage are all we are," Seth growled. "Draw strength from blood. Draw strength from rage."

Seth forced Primaris Prime's power sword back, fueled by the Bloodlust's ravenous hunger.

"I understand," Primaris Prime nodded slightly.

Then, with exquisite skill, he deftly parried Seth's chainsword, elegant yet lethal, forcing Seth back several steps.

Seth roared savagely, legs exploding with power like a bloodthirsty beast, gripping his chainsword with both hands to slash downward.

Then, Primaris Prime let out a similar, blood-soaked growl—Seth glimpsed fangs between his lips.

"I understand," Primaris Prime repeated.

The power sword, thick with bloodlust, clashed against Seth's chainsword; the force jolted Seth's bones painfully, cracking his ceramite bracers.

As a tall, immensely strong Astartes, Seth rarely faced opponents who outmatched him in raw strength.

His fingers went numb; his chainsword slipped from his grip.

Primaris Prime seized the instant, pivoting his blade to thrust straight at Seth.

Seth grabbed the chain attached to his chainsword, swung it, and hurled the weapon at Primaris Prime.

He had drawn first blood—

Sssch!

A faint glow erupted along Primaris Prime's power sword blade, striking Seth before the chainsword could touch him—cutting a bloody line across Seth's face.

"You lost," Primaris Prime reached out gently; a surge of psychic force knocked Seth's chainsword from his grasp.

"Psychic?" Seth grunted, but accepted defeat without protest.

This stirred a ripple of confusion among the veteran Astartes.

They knew Seth's strength—he ranked among the top commanders of all sub-chapters—and yet he had fallen to Primaris Prime.

In that moment, the old warriors realized: the Primaris did possess genuine merit.

Kaul, watching, exhaled slightly in relief.

Primaris Prime was his finest creation, a miracle he himself could never replicate.

Within his body flowed twenty legion gene-sequences, embodying all Astartes traits.

Even if Seth were Saint Doraemon's bodyguard, even without using relics infused with Saint Doraemon's divine power, he could not defeat Primaris Prime.

"His blood resembles the Blood Angels, his speed the White Scars."

"His stealth mirrors the Dark Angels and Midnight Lords, his combat style a war hound, his psychic power like a Thousand Son."

Kaen exhaled slowly, brushing past Seth.

He clapped Seth's shoulder, took the chain from his hand, and bound the Bloodletter to his bare arm.

Then he looked at Primaris Prime and asked:

"What are you?"

"I am something like you."

Primaris Prime fell silent for a moment, then said:

"I feel it—you, like me, endure pain without cease."

Because Kaul's gene-technology was imperfect, Primaris Prime suffered constant agony from his own flesh.

His empathic sensitivity allowed him to perceive Kaen's similar torment—unending, unrelenting pain.

"If we are destined to bear pain, does that mean our very birth was a mistake?" Primaris Prime asked Kaen.

Kaen had no idea what Primaris Prime was thinking.

I don't know why you're suffering.

I deserve it anyway.

As the words fell, Kain swung the Blood Child violently and lunged at the Original Cast Head.

(End of Chapter)