2nd Primarch

Dukel simply tore off his power armor, revealing his strong and majestic upper body. Every angular muscle looked as if it had been carved by a knife or an axe. After a long battle, this power armor was already in tatters and could no longer provide him with any protection. Instead, it might hinder his movements.

"Come on, then!"

Faced with the Primarch's contempt, the warrior shrouded in blood shadow did not show any displeasure, but instead was filled with interest.

Dukel said no more, took a step forward, and collided with the opponent in the blink of an eye. After just the first exchange, a deep look of surprise appeared in his eyes.

The opponent actually displayed strength and martial skill equal to his, something Dukel had never encountered before.

The inextinguishable fighting spirit in Dukel's eyes flared even stronger at this moment, and he was exhilarated – if there was one person in the universe who could be called a perfect opponent, the Primarch felt that it must be the one before him.

In just a moment, the two warriors had clashed dozens of times.

The martial prowess of both was near perfection, and their strength and speed were equal, creating a brief stalemate.

"I'm surprised that a warrior like you would be willing to bow before the bronze throne," Dukel spoke first, trying to disrupt the rhythm of the fight with words – but he was genuinely curious. How could such a perfect warrior willingly submit to an evil god?

Although Khorne was the god of warriors, the contradiction was that warriors were solitary beings. The more perfect a warrior, the less likely they were to learn submission.

Sanguinius and Dorn were both prime examples. What could make a true warrior submit willingly was not strength or the so-called majesty of a god.

"Give up these little tricks, Dukel. What you and I are pursuing is just pure fighting itself, isn't it?"

"You're right. I underestimated you."

Dukel said apologetically. In the short battle, they had developed a mutual understanding, and it was indeed a bit dishonorable to try to break through his defenses with words.

After expressing his apology, Dukel suddenly pulled back, turned, and ran.

The warrior shrouded in blood shadow chased after him relentlessly.

Just as he was about to close the gap, Dukel abruptly turned around and swung his sword, which had been prepared for just such a moment.

Clang!

The Blood Shadow Warrior blocked the blow, but the unmatched force sent his blood-red figure flying, his legs carving deep grooves in the blood-red desert.

Seeing that his attack had been effective, Dukel pressed forward to pursue.

"Hahaha."

The warrior let out a long laugh as he retreated, as if he, too, was invigorated by the battle.

As he pulled back, he reached for a short axe at his waist and hurled it toward Dukel to stop him from pursuing.

Watching the battle axe fly toward him like a streak of red lightning, Dukel had no time to dodge and raised his weapon to parry.

Then the two resumed fighting, and it became difficult to determine a victor.

With equal martial skills, speed, strength, combat experience, and boundless physical endurance, neither side could overcome the other. All tactics had been exhausted, and victory seemed unattainable.

If it weren't for their completely different fighting styles, Dukel might have suspected that he was fighting his own reflection.

Both gave their all in this battle.

Isn't this what you wanted, Dukel?

Suddenly, a voice echoed in the Primarch's mind. This voice did not come from anywhere else but from within his own heart.

In this red desert, in this endless battlefield, in this intoxicating blood-scented air, the sky, the desert, the enemy—all were tinged with red, like a bloody flame, a substance of blood, an outburst of blood.

Isn't this everything you wanted?

A battle of equal strength, a bloody battle, with blood spilled at close range.

Empire? Humanity? What does that have to do with you?

No need to think about the mundane world. Fight. Fight selflessly. Liberate yourself. No longer bound by anyone or anything. For blood, fight and kill. For blood, paint everything before you with blood.

What do the survival of mankind, despair, hope, children's smiles, and trivial government affairs have to do with you?

You came into this world alone. You should hold a sword by yourself.

Forget the complicated matters. Fight without thinking or making decisions.

Just for blood. Nothing else to ask for. Simple, releasing. Regardless of the consequences. Just for blood, blood sacrifice.

The voice in his heart kept questioning him.

Dukel's eyes gradually became veiled in red, like a thin layer of blood-colored mist.

The battle lasted for eight days and nights.

Until one moment…

The power of the Blood Shadow Warrior suddenly surged without warning.

But in such a fierce battle, the increase in strength didn't grant him victory. On the contrary, the sudden boost caused his rhythm to falter, exposing a fatal flaw.

The Primarch seized the opportunity and struck mercilessly with his chainsword.

Buzz!

Sizzle!

The chainsword emitted an ear-piercing sound as it tore a massive gash across the warrior's chest.

"Hahahaha!" The warrior covered in blood shadow laughed instead of growing angry. He swung his giant blade and struck at Dukel's original form.

After knocking the opponent flying, the Blood Shadow Warrior stood still, smiling.

"You've truly brought me a big surprise, Dukel."

"This work is organized and uploaded by Liujiu Book Bar~~"

"Fuck you. Cough... cough." Dukel climbed up from the blood-soaked sand, coughing up blood. A huge scar now adorned his chest from the warrior's blade.

"Do you still have no shame?!"

At this moment, Dukel finally realized that the other party wasn't a perfect warrior at all, but the incarnation of the Blood God!

The fair duel had been interrupted.

An unreasonable rage surged in Dukel's heart.

Dukel stood from the red sands, his spiritual energy surging within him. In the blink of an eye, he healed the wound on his chest.

Just as he prepared to rush at the warrior once more, the warrior's voice interrupted him.

"Why continue fighting? You've seen my power, Dukel. Your enemy isn't me, but someone else."

"Who?" The red veil in the Primarch's eyes deepened.

"It's the entire universe, the infinite worlds, and all the powerful warriors from ancient times to the present! As long as you desire it, they will all be yours!"

"I..." Dukel muttered, and countless scenes unfolded in his mind—battle, blood, glory, and freedom. It was like a fish entering the sea or a bird returning to the forest. From then on, there would be no more ties. All that mattered was blood.

"Only blood, as it should be!"

"I..."

"Say it! Tell me what's on your mind!"

"Blood!" Dukel shouted aloud. At that moment, he felt as though he had broken free from all restraints, and would no longer bear any burdens.

"Again. What blood?" the voice asked eagerly.

"Blood sacrifice!"

"What is the blood sacrifice? Why sacrifice blood?!"

"Blood sacrifice to the gods!"

"Who? Which god are we sacrificing blood to?!"

The voice became urgent, as if desperate for the answer.

"Blood sacrifice to the Emperor!!!"

"That's right. Blood sacrifice... what?" Before the blood-red figure could feel any joy, he sensed something was wrong.

He didn't realize that when he asked that question, Dukel's mental energy surged wildly, his eyes flashing with light as an inexplicable smile spread across his face.

"Of course, it's the blood sacrifice to the Divine Emperor!"

"Are we going to sacrifice some cheating dog who only cheats when he can't win?!"

"You think you're the only one who knows how to cheat?!"

As he spoke, Dukel conjured a ball of golden energy.

In an instant, golden sunlight shone down upon the red desert.