Warhammer 40k: Shattered Steel Soul

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. Magnus whispered another string of runes, causing a layer of golden-red protective shield to float on the surface of several important parts of the body, such as the heart and spine.

He rubbed his throat, thinking about other strengthening spells that could be used.

Ruth was on the other side of the ring energetically doing some stretching exercises, such as swinging his arms back and forth like two steel swing ropes. From time to time, his feet would step on the edge of the ring prepared for them by Malcador, ready to jump up at any time.

In order to avoid really serious injuries, both players were left in only a pair of linen trousers and did not carry any weapons.

For a former pure scholar, it was obviously not fair to directly participate in melee combat, so Leman Russ and Magnus said that they could make some small preparations in advance.

"But you've been chanting the spell for half an hour." Perturabo couldn't help but said, and glanced at the shadows in the auditorium of the ring. He always felt that there was something hidden in that shadow. "Look at the light coming off your body. It's almost impossible to see your original skin color."

"Oh, you're right." Magnus made the glowing phenomenon caused by different strengthening runes on his body more obvious, "Will this interfere with Russ's sight?"

"...Yes." Perturabo sighed sincerely, and based on experience and estimation in a ball of colorful light, he successfully touched Magnus's shoulder and patted him encouragingly, "Come on, Magnus Nuss. You can win.”

"Well, you have made an appointment with our warriors that there will be a giant on the field. I think I must win.

Magnus's expression was hidden in the light, and only some nervousness could be heard in his voice.

"But I have never fought against a brother. Speed, strength, reaction, shield, and confusing colored light. Do you think there are any other aspects that I can improve on?"

"You can lose." Perturabo approached Magnus, hiding his mouth in the colorful light emitted by Magnus and whispering, "I haven't tried the new body that Morse made for me. If you lose, I will make a full-coverage armor with the same color as Russ, put it on the new body and go to the battle in person."

"But I don't want to lose." Magnus also lowered his voice awkwardly and expressed his little thoughts. "Last time we were having barbecue, he touched my robe. It was white..."

Perturabo let go of his brother: "Oh, that's understandable. Hit him."

Magnus took the stage with his colorful lights, and he saw no confusion in Ruth's eyes, which made him feel strangely better. He smiled at Ruth, not sure if the other person saw his smile.

"Shall we start?" Russ asked, grinning. When Magnus's body shrouded in light made the first move, he suddenly pounced on Magnus, his hands like wolf's claws. , ready to strangle or slit Magnus' throat without hesitation. His fighting stance was not like fighting someone of his own size, but more like attacking a larger beast.

The pre-prepared runes took effect, and Magnus surrendered his body to the fighting instinct of the Primarch in the slowed-down world, nimbly avoiding the attack. At the same time, he realized that this was actually the first time in many years for Riemann of the Russ tribe. Fighting a fellow Primarch.

Their speed increased as each other sped up, Magnus trying his best to dodge each of Russ's frantic attacks, clenching his fists not quite sure how to attack his brother. Just when he decided to hit Ruth's chest from the gap of the arm, the opponent's leg was already heading towards the side of his knee.

Magnus's hesitation weakened his speed advantage under the blessing of runes, and Russ's intuition helped him accurately identify Magnus's true state from the light group. They rotated rapidly like two strands in a genetic double helix, exchanging positions under their feet.

"Knock me down, brother." Russ's growl was hidden in his gasps. He frowned and closed his eyes to avoid Magnus's dazzling light, "Where is your fist?"

Magnus muttered something in Prospero. He chose a curse that a self-proclaimed scholar would hardly say. After saying it, he felt a rare sense of joy in his heart, and he smashed his fist into Russ's chest. . The Wolf King blocked his arm with precision and speed.

"Knock me down, bro!"

Magnus's fist lit up with a stronger light, and the fight with Russ was completely different from the battle with the Devouring Bee. He was stronger and more prepared than then, but Russ was not a beast—— He understood this so clearly.

The second punch he threw was judged by Russ as if he had predicted it. The Wolf King took advantage of his moment of exertion and jumped to his side. He felt a heavy blow on his right rib, benefiting from the spell he prepared. With Yan Tao's psychic shield, Russ attacked with his bare hands without causing him any harm except a trace of pain.

There was a flash of light at Magnus' ankle, and he quickly turned around and tried to punch Russ's exposed back. Ruth lowered his body to avoid it. He calculated Magnus' movements clearly.

The two changed positions again, and the icy cold eyes of the Wolf King's flying blond hair were brewing with Fenris's icy frost wind blowing from the Lengji active volcano.

He was none of the enthusiastic excitement about this fight that he expressed verbally. He looked at Magnus like an old hunter judging the prey he would hunt in the coming winter.

This kind of alternative regard finally aroused Magnus's anger. He let go of his hands and feet and rushed towards Leman Russ, imagining how he soiled his clothes. No, what really lingered in his heart was the cold eyes. They were not the eyes of a brother looking at a brother.

Magnus' fists were equipped with tiny spear-like spikes on the knuckles. It was easier for Magnus to heal than to injure, so he no longer restrained himself or even dodge. His sudden acceleration of the attack pulled Russ into his rhythm, hunting a wolf, Magnus thought, the spikes cutting off a few stray strands of blond hair.

The high-speed continuous attacks and the unhittable lethality made Russ's counterattack gradually become weak and ineffective, until he pressed his knees on Russ's back, pressed his hands on Russ's head and smashed it to the ground. Ruth burst out laughing in pain, blood dripping from between his teeth onto the ring. He grunted, slurring his words.

"It's over," he said. "You win, brother."

Magnus came to his senses, walked backwards away from Russ, and took stock of the damage to his shield.

All the vital parts of his body had been chewed by Ruth for at least three rounds. If Ruth's attack on him was as effective as his attack on Ruth, he would not be able to escape from Ruth's hands for one round.

He took off all his protection, let the colorful light recede from his skin, and gasped violently. The spell blessing to maintain the static state consumes very little on him, and his fatigue comes from the battle pressure brought to him by Russ.

Magnus reached out to his brother, and his fleeting anger turned into uneasy shame after he realized that he had beaten Russ: "It all depends on these runes..."

Ruth turned over, lying on his back in his own sweat and a small amount of blood, opening his mouth and breathing in front of the simulated sky scene on the ceiling. "You can give yourself another half hour of runes when you get to the battlefield. Magnus, you are a winner."

Magnus wanted to refute that if Russ really went on the field, the opponent would definitely have his preparations, whether it was weapons or traps. The one he defeated in hand-to-hand combat today was an experienced hunter, so the ring competition didn't mean anything. Since Ruth wouldn't get up, he might as well sit down.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Ruth suddenly enlarged his voice and shouted happily.

A wave of light appeared in the shadow of the auditorium, and the shadow was lifted like a curtain, revealing three people sitting side by side.

One of them was wearing a gray robe and holding a long staff, while the other was half-lying on a wicker chair, his hand wrapped in black cloth supporting his chin.

The last person sat upright, with black hair hanging down in a white robe made of gold, and a delicate gold laurel wreath around his forehead, with brilliant golden light flowing in his dark eyes.

"Excellent, Primarchs." The Emperor's voice broke through the silence. "This was an excellent duel, and I saw your respective strengths and wisdom."

Mors raised his hand and waved his fingers in greeting to Perturabo.

Perturabo relaxed his stiff fists that were tense from watching the battle and nodded slightly in return.