2nd Primarch

Long before the rescue operation on this planet was launched, Dukel and the Imperial Think Tank had already finalized strategies and tactics to address various emergencies.

The Think Librarians, also known as Psionic Librarians, are Astartes with psychic talents who serve as advisors, offering strategic guidance to their superiors.

For the expeditionary force, rescuing the planet was not a daunting task.

This allowed the Primarch Dukel some leeway to "play."

Yes, carrying out the theoretically most challenging rearguard mission and facing the World Eaters, led by Khorne's champions, was hardly a trial for him—it was more of a warm-up.

But now, he had almost been injured while "playing."

It had to be admitted that the Primarch had underestimated these Khorne followers. These demons were not mere toys but elite warriors among the elite.

"Bang!"

Dukel tightened his power-gloved hand, and the head of the Khorne champion he held burst like an overripe fruit. Blood sprayed everywhere as the demon's twitching body fell limp.

Dukel's demeanor shifted; he was done with toying.

He would now face these demons as warriors.

"Come, warriors of Khorne, fight me!"

Standing tall and unyielding, Dukel's figure bathed in the light of Nanlis' fading stars, appearing as a resolute, unshakable monument.

He stepped forward, the massive strength within his power armor making every step leave deep imprints on the cracked ground. The ruins of the city trembled with his approach, unable to withstand the power of the Primarch.

"You have earned the right to fight me. Now I shall grant you respect and honor."

The Khorne demons showed no fear. Instead, their bloodthirsty gazes became wilder, their excitement palpable.

Yes, this was what they desired.

By their ferocity, they had earned the Primarch's acknowledgment, the ultimate reward: a battle with him. The Blood God's favor was assured.

Supreme glory awaited.

"Kill!"

Meanwhile, an Ultramarines squad retreated from the war zone. Though they had not encountered Dukel directly, they learned from the Legion's communication channels that the Primarch himself had come to cover their retreat.

Though exhausted and battered, the squad yearned to return to the fight.

"Praise the Emperor; His son has come to our aid," their captain said solemnly. "Please, let nothing happen to him."

Facing thousands of ascended World Eaters and Khorne champions, even a Primarch could only endure so much.

Their hope was for Dukel to fight a delaying action—holding the enemy long enough to retreat safely to the defensive line.

Suddenly, a squad of Sisters of Battle blocked the Ultramarines' path.

"How close are the pursuers?" the lead Sister asked.

The Ultramarines captain, battered but determined, replied, "They haven't reached us yet. His Highness Dukel has intercepted them. But we don't know how long he can hold."

"We're prepared." The Sister's confidence was resolute.

The Ultramarines hesitated. "Thousands of World Eaters and ten Khorne champions are pursuing us. Can you handle them?"

"Your evacuation is critical. Leave the pursuers to us," the Sister said, her tone unyielding. "Go. There are medical nuns stationed to treat you."

After a brief exchange, the Ultramarines reluctantly agreed. They were veterans, and trust between these servants of the Emperor was implicit.

Meanwhile, the Sisters of Battle reinforced their ambush points, ready for the oncoming demons.

"Die!"

Dukel's roar echoed across the battlefield as he punched a Khorne champion with such force that the demon was sent flying hundreds of meters.

World Eaters surged around him, attacking in waves. Dukel retaliated with unyielding ferocity, punching through ruined walls and crushing demons behind them.

Bang! Bang!

Chaos spears hurtled toward him, but in the presence of his mental force field, their Warp blessings failed. The spears harmlessly glanced off his armor, their force reduced to a breeze.

Buzz!

Dukel unsheathed his custom chainsword—a monstrous weapon over two meters long. Its blade hummed with the ethereal fire of the soul, a nightmare for demons.

Every swing of the chainsword painted the battlefield with gore. Even a grazing wound inflicted by its edge unleashed the relentless soul fire, burning through flesh and Warp blessings alike.

Dukel gripped the weapon with both hands. The air seemed to crackle as he raised it high, then brought it down with devastating force.

The impact bent the very fabric of reality, creating a shockwave that unleashed a dragon of psychic fire.

The fiery dragon surged across the battlefield, engulfing everything in its path. Khorne demons, caught in its wrath, raised their weapons in vain. The fire devoured them, burning away the negative energy of the Warp and leaving nothing but ash.

Even weapons blessed by Khorne were powerless against it.

The Khorne champions froze, their confidence shaken.

"Is this... the Primarch foretold in the Oracle?"

"What a joke!"

"This is the fucking Primarch?!"

The champions exchanged panicked glances. They had fought under Angron himself, but even the World Eaters' Primarch could not rival this overwhelming power.

For the first time, doubt crept into their minds.