Chapter 704: Mortarion's math level

"Ferrus..."

Fulgrim's words made Fulgrim's expression freeze slightly, his lips trembling slightly:

"Are you talking about Ferrus..."

"Of course!" Fulgrim gripped the Fireblade warhammer in his hand, roaring and questioning: "How would Ferrus say if he saw the Purple Phoenix of the past degenerate into this appearance?"

"... I have never regretted killing Ferrus." Fulgrim said in a low voice.

Fulgrim was stunned: "I didn't ask—"

"I have never regretted killing Ferrus!"

Fulgrim's voice rose abruptly, his four arms dancing like flowers, double swords, whips, and sharp claws crossing into a kaleidoscope, pressing toward Fulgrim.

Fulgrim's face froze, the Fireblade warhammer surging with scorching furnace fire.

The twisted blade in Fulgrim's left hand issued a sharp cry as it came, colliding with the Fireblade warhammer. The bursting burning energy illuminated the surroundings for hundreds of meters like white day.

Fulgrim's arm went numb, his bones appearing with cracks. He felt that he was facing an ancient giant god stronger than a Titan Legion. This giant god condescended to the mortal dimension, but the one who felt pain for this was not Him, but reality itself.

Sanguinius, Lion, and Guilliman, when they fought him in the gladiatorial cage, had never used their full strength...

"He deserved to die!"

Fulgrim's voice was sharp like a blade.

"You bitch, I once fought side by side with Ferrus, I once forged weapons with Ferrus, we once bled together, once swore together."

"And you, you bitch, you are just peeping at my memory. When have you ever seen Ferrus?"

The deadly whip lashed down. Fulgrim's armor was broken by the whip in just an instant, and his flesh was abruptly rolled down by the barbs on the whip. The heartbreaking pain swept through Fulgrim's body. This whip was not only a combat weapon but also a thorough torture instrument, covered in toxins that were not fatal but could bring boundless pain. If it were an ordinary person, they would probably have gone into shock due to this terrifying pain.

But Fulgrim, at least in the flesh, was still a Primarch. His extraordinary immune ability played a role, quickly suppressing that terrible pain, and his extraordinary reaction ability allowed him to distance himself from Fulgrim.

"Ferrus, he is pedantic! He is boring! He is as cold as iron!"

Fulgrim roared and pursued, the flame sword drawing an arc, colliding with the Fireblade warhammer.

"He doesn't understand art, he doesn't know how to appreciate paintings, can't understand the rhythm in music, doesn't know how to appreciate the existence of beauty."

The flame sword before Fulgrim seemed to turn into thousands of blades in an instant, slashing from all directions. He swung the Fireblade warhammer, struggling to block.

But attacks still broke through his defense and landed.

His armor constantly produced dents, damage, and scorch marks.

"He took away my honor again and again, he covered my glory again and again, he betrayed me again and again!"

"I! I invited him with the friendship of a brother, because of our sincere friendship I invited him to join a brand new order."

"But he refused me! He betrayed our friendship!"

"He... he deserved to die under my sword!"

Fulgrim's voice became sharp and piercing:

"So ungrateful! So stubborn! So... so difficult to corrupt, so unshakable, so resilient, so unyielding..."

Fulgrim's voice became smaller and smaller.

"Yes." Fulgrim nodded and said: "I have never seen Ferrus with my own eyes; I am just peeping at your memory."

"But I still know his resilience, his indestructibility. If there is anything in the world that is perfect without carving, it must be Ferrus."

"I have never walked side by side with him, yet I have already loved him. You have walked with him personally, how could you not love him?"

Fulgrim's attack stalled. He opened his mouth slightly, tears surging in his violet eyes.

Fulgrim felt a power surging from within his body. This power seemed to come from within Fulgrim's body.

Fulgrim remembered the words Cawl had once said.

He was becoming Fulgrim.

Fulgrim issued a wild battle roar.

He leaped up, swinging the Fireblade warhammer in his hand and drawing an arc. The hammer head was aimed at Fulgrim's twisted face.

Fulgrim was worthy of being a Primarch. His speed was faster than Fulgrim's. Even though Fulgrim caught his moment of daze, he still dodged it.

Fulgrim's Fireblade warhammer knocked on his shoulder. A sharp crisp sound came from Fulgrim's armor. That exquisitely carved eagle broke, and Fulgrim's shoulder was exposed to the air.

"Bitch!" Fulgrim screamed, the twisted blade stabbing toward Fulgrim.

Fulgrim leaped to dodge this strike, and at the same time, the warhammer swung, smashing toward the broken eagle on Fulgrim's chest.

The eagle flew out from Fulgrim's chest under the hammer smash. The claws of the ornament had indeed pierced into Fulgrim's chest, rolling out trails of blood.

Fulgrim wailed and retreated repeatedly.

"This was a gift from my father!" Fulgrim looked at the broken eagle on the ground and issued a wail.

"... A gift from the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang?" Fulgrim landed, tilting his head and asking.

He had not expected that Fulgrim still preserved the gift given to him by the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang.

But Fulgrim did not pay attention to Fulgrim's question. His hideous face slowly raised, the wound on his chest almost instantly healed.

He stared at Fulgrim with an extremely gloomy gaze.

"You stole my things." Fulgrim roared and said.

"I prefer to think of this as a recognition." Fulgrim gripped the Fireblade, the corners of his mouth rising slightly, provoking: "You yourself admitted that I am more like a Purple Phoenix than you."

"You are just a fake, an impostor, a clone." Fulgrim's voice was sharp and piercing.

"The Primarch of the Hua Hua Hua Di Huang's Children must be the most perfect one." Fulgrim stared at Fulgrim, showing no fear: "Whoever is more perfect is the Primarch, whoever wins is the Primarch."

"... Fool." Fulgrim actually laughed: "The more perfect you are, the more you are like me. If you can defeat me, it only means you have become exactly the same as me."

"The path of perfection is like this. The more you walk, the clearer the imperfections on you become. You call the posture on me degeneration, but I call this the inevitable path to perfection."

"I don't think this is the result of the path of perfection."

Fulgrim shook his head and said:

"I have been thinking, thinking about what the so-called perfect form should be."

"Do you still remember, ten thousand years ago, Jaghatai Khan once sent us a jade pendant from the early human civilization?"

"You praised that jade carving as beautiful at the time, praising the history behind it, but it was actually born from waste."

Fulgrim was stunned slightly.

He still remembered that jade carving. The content of the jade carving was a traveler wearing a straw hat walking in a heavy snow, with a withered tree swaying beside him. At that time, Fulgrim was indeed attracted by the exquisiteness of this jade carving and couldn't help but sigh.

"This jade carving was born in the era when Zhou Yun once lived. I chatted with Zhou Yun, but Zhou Yun told me that the jade carving was born from waste." ===== CHAPTER 705 =====

"This jade carving was born in the era where Zhou Yun once lived. I spoke to Zhou Yun about it, but Zhou Yun told me that the jade carving was born from scrap."