Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

This was Robert Guilliman's twenty-fifth attempt to kill one of his blood relatives.

He desires victory.

He had tried twenty-four times before: he didn't like that number, especially when it didn't include a single real victory.

He had been a winner, but he had not won: he distinguished between these two points clearly.

The [Hand of Overlord] made a subtle trembling sound accompanied by the kinetic energy that could not be completely suppressed, and the [Dagger of Sincerity] was tightly held by the Primarch in the other hand, and the combined explosive bomb The gun [Arbiter] was also hung on Guilliman's waist as a second plan when necessary.

In this way, the Primarch fully armed himself. The [Armor of Reason] protected all vital points except his head, and also gave him extraordinary courage. He stepped onto those broken marble stairs and stepped across After passing the scattered corpses, these dead people were all wearing power armor, some were blue and some were silver-white, performing silent dramas about dying together.

The casualties were heavy, no matter which side you stood on: just a casual glance in the tense nerves, the Primarch identified at least two thousand descendants who died in the battle, and about five hundred who did not belong to The dead of Macragge and Ultramar.

But in general, the Lord of Macragge can barely call himself a winner: under his feet is the last stronghold of his blood relatives, and among the corpses scattered left and right, the silver ones are already the last team of defenders , the blue one is just a more elite team among the endless army of Ultramarines.

Outside the Marble Fortress, the intermittent fierce gunfire and roar of artillery shells announced that the war was still not over completely, but in front of the Primarch, he could no longer see any more obstacles. The only thing that could temporarily cover his sight was There was only the hot white vapor that he kept spitting out. They rose like winter smoke and slapped on the broken marble pillars that were already covered with bullet marks.

The Primarch stared at those once magnificent supporters. He replaced the dagger in his hand with a bolt gun and pointed at the boundless shadows at the top: He remembered clearly that in the fourth duel, several teams The assassins swung their claws and fought out of the shadows, their interference causing Guilliman's throat to be slit by the curved blade from Avalon.

After that, the same drama appeared in eight different duels, but the Lord of Macragge never suffered a loss. There was always enough firepower to target any strange shadow approaching Guilliman. .

After checking the broken ambush locations one by one, the Primarch looked around him again, looking for any location that refuted common sense. He was very vigilant. Although he seemed to have a chance to win, he knew that he had At least three times, he fell at the last second before victory.

The gunfire outside the fortress continued intermittently, but the war cry from the Ultramarines was able to cover up the last struggle of the resisters. Following the victory rhythm of the Thirteenth Legion, Guilliman slowly walked forward Entering the last hall, the short blond hair on the back of his neck stood up involuntarily due to the coldness behind the door, making the roar of the power fists even louder and harsher.

"You have no more plans, my blood relative?"

Carefully opening the door, the Primarch stepped into the messy command room. He replaced his bolter with a dagger and listened carefully to every movement in the air. In his ears, there was only the cold breathing and the tactics of the public channel. report.

"Your last line of defense has also been completely broken. The Terra warriors stationed there are still very powerful. Just like every time before, they withstood the siege of eight times the force I sent, but they still failed after all. Can't stop the shells and fire."

"And your Old Guard, the personal guard you chose for yourself. I remember that they only had more than 200 people, but they destroyed my 800-strong vanguard army. I could only mobilize three times the number of troops before. We just captured this place.”

"Up to now, I still have about fifty strategic reserves, as well as supporting armored vehicles and fire cover: OK, it's your turn, my blood relative, tell me, what else do you have? What have you prepared? ?”

"How do you plan to save this world, this country, this burning ruin that you rule?"

The deep voice of the Primarch echoed across the crumbling dome, and he was answered only by the faintest trembling screams in the air: they were caught by Guilliman, and he knew they were the signal for war.

After all, the Lord of Macragge clearly remembered that the silver-white corpses lying on the courtyard and marble steps were about ten people away from the actual number. It was unlikely that they would turn into ashes and indistinguishable pieces of flesh: and All of this was the conclusion that the Primarch had drawn from his previous unintentional glance.

Guilliman breathed: a last icy breath.

The next moment, his pupils captured three anomalies at the same time: on the other side of the vast hall, in the blind spot of his vision, and in the corners obscured by light and shadow, four fully armed Dawnbreakers emerged from their Emerging from the hiding place, the Primarch could clearly see the bolters in their hands, the white light flashing at the muzzles, and the sharp scream of the plasma bolts as they pierced the air.

At the same time, at least six other auras appeared in the shadows on his left and right: all in less than a second, but it was enough for Guilliman to take action.

The Primarch turned to the right, dodging the fire and attacking at the same time: he could feel that there was one less breath there, and the dagger in his right hand roared and roared with the discovery.

The Primarch's speed was unimaginable by anyone. Like an irresistible hurricane, he tore apart the conspiracy hidden in the shadows: the first ambusher at close range was killed in his protective color. , did not even completely walk out of the darkness, and while his comrades hesitated briefly because of this too sudden sacrifice, the roaring power fist killed another person in the shadows.

A safe rear, when Guilliman obtained all this, his victory was only a very short matter of time: the four shooters occupying distant seats were crushed by the more swift and accurate Arbiter, and in Before their dying bodies fell, the power fists claimed the lives of three more attackers.

There was one person, one last person, whose name Guilliman could remember: Lana, his bloodline's choice as First Guard, possessing the valor befitting the title.

This time is no exception.

The masterwork power sword roared with its wielder's fearless battle cry, causing real trouble for the Primarch: before his power fists crushed the Old Guard's body, sending his fighting spirit into his heart. Before they were eliminated together, several ferocious scars had destroyed the perfection of the original body's power armor, one of which could even reach Guilliman's neck, which had no more defenses.

The Lord of Macragge's silence for the enemy lasted for a moment: although this was not the first time, and although he knew that this was just a pure fantasy in his mind, if possible, he still wanted to use his dagger to give this person A dignified death and portrait of a brave warrior.

But he knew there was no time: the moment Lana fell, the stasis bomb hidden behind him emerged in front of the Lord of Macragge.

That's it again.

Guilliman sighed in his heart, and his body had instinctively hid in a safe corner: at the next moment, the sympathetic effect from the quantum field echoed in his mind, and the bomb hidden under Lana The stasis bomb dimmed quietly, followed by the explosion of more than fifty bombs of various types placed throughout the hall.

A trap.

The white-hot flames and sky-high explosion lasted for less than a second, and sentenced the crumbling building to death. But when the smoke and lime from the explosion were swept away by the sudden influx of air, a strong The voice suddenly stood among the ruins.

That was Guilliman: covered in smoke, but unscathed.

"Are there any other tricks, Morgan?"

Facing the pale gray smoke, Guilliman shouted loudly. Before he could finish his words, the Primarch rolled to the left without hesitation: a terrifying black-blue light beam rubbed his shoulder armor, The place where the original body just stood was blasted into pieces.

"This one blow isn't enough to kill me completely, you know."

Guilliman was still shouting. He stared cautiously at the figure that appeared in the dust, wary that it was another realistic prop used to attract and deceive him.

"Didn't we already try it the ninth time: I was able to withstand the same psychic impact at least three times, although my armor didn't seem to be able to withstand the negative electricity that followed."

The Primarch shouted, his eyes constantly searching in the chaotic space, until he noticed that the figure moved and took out the weapon: a double-edged spear that was just right for her. The lower end of the spear head is connected with two ax blades.

It seemed that it was indeed Morgan: the opponent he had fought twenty-four times.

Thinking of this, Guilliman couldn't help but frown. He walked out of his ever-changing hiding place and faced his blood relatives holding weapons, feeling a little unhappy in his heart.

"What’s wrong with you?"

[I just want to change the method. 】

Morgan showed a smile that made the Lord of the Ultramarines instinctively feel nervous. He knew very well how many times he had fallen in front of this smile.

[Do you still remember how many times we played? Guilliman? 】

"Twenty-four."

The Primarch spoke clearly of the records and figures in his mind.

"Eleven to ten. In addition, there are three draws: I destroyed your legion, and you destroyed me."

"You beat me eleven times, Morgan, and that's unprecedented."

When it comes to his failure, Guilliman's face does not show even a trace of disappointment. On the contrary, a different kind of passion and eagerness to try occupy his entire face, which is the desire and greed for the unknown.

[Yes, eleven victories. 】

The Spider Queen sighed softly, without any joy on her face.

[But it is also eleven intermittent victories: every time I use a method to annihilate your legion and offensive, you can immediately regain the victory in the next game, so that I can never take advantage of the same tactics. 】

[Do you still remember what happened during our twentieth duel? 】

"Of course, with the intensive advancement and non-stop fire bombing, the troops tore apart my legions in precise turns: you used this method to break through my fortress defense line. I really didn't expect you to use such squandering methods at the time. He used the crowd tactics to attack, which was a beautiful style change. I was convinced of the defeat that time."

[Yeah, it’s a beautiful tactical style change, and it should be concealed: after all, in reality, I don’t have the capital to play this kind of Olympian tactics. Twenty thousand people in the simulation will die if they die. In reality Twenty thousand casualties is enough for me to retire to Holy Terra. 】

"Are you worried about your legion's numbers?"

[There is indeed such concern. After all, you know, Guilliman, twenty thousand people, even twenty thousand Astartes warriors, is not a number that can completely ensure safety in this turbulent era. 】

[But I don't think you can sympathize with me on this issue, Master of Ultramar and the Ultramarines. 】

"...Well, there are indeed some, but you can always get my help, my blood relatives, I now have 120,000 descendants, they are a powerful force."

[Yes, yes, I have experienced this powerful force more than twenty times: No matter how my tactics change, in the final analysis, they are all about beheading you. I have never thought about annihilation and killing. Even if your heirs He was injured, and the speed of recovery was also extremely scary. 】

"In fact, this can be regarded as a genetic disease, can't it... After all, such a mutation should not exist in the gene seed. Although it can be considered benign, it is also a flaw."

【……】

【Whatever you think. 】

A cold snort from a blood relative, accompanied by the final artillery fire rumbling in the distance, made Guilliman react suddenly: This is still a theoretical battlefield of life and death, not a grand hall where casual discussions can take place.

"Okay, Morgan."

The Primarch tightened his grip on his own sharp blade, watching as his blood kin gripped their weapons as well.

"This time, are you going to compete with me in swordsmanship?"

[Yes, Guilliman, too many sandbox operations have made me feel a little bored. Squads, tanks, aircraft and artillery, these have never been the things that attract me, especially after going back and forth more than twenty times. 】

"But you're really good at this, aren't you?"

A hearty smile took over the face of the Primarch. Guilliman clenched the blade and took a sharp step forward. The ax blade that greeted him continued to scream with the phase force field, which quickly turned into a sharp howl of metal collision. Call.

The Lord of the Ultramarines charges from the base of a heap of ruined rubble, eager to push his kin back to the other side. He wields no boltgun of his own, fighting instead with only his short sword and power fists.

In Guilliman's field of vision, he could clearly see Morgan's long white dress. The power of psychic energy shone on the delicate and defenseless fabric, allowing it to easily turn roaring bombs into The lost ship deviated from its course, and the exquisitely crafted sleeveless half-armor tightly protected the most important upper body, turning any long-range firepower into a useless roar.

Morgan held her large and somewhat exaggerated polearm. Her slightly thin figure seemed to declare that she could not exert the full power of this brutal weapon, but the Lord of the Ultramarines did not underestimate the enemy in the slightest: he Having fought against his blood relatives ten times, he knew very well that her martial arts skills were not bad and that she was not an opponent he could easily defeat.

The blue-black ax blade changed its state during thrusts and slashes. In careful defense and wild offensive, he built a wall of fine gold belonging to the Lord of the Second Legion. Guilliman cautiously fought against his blood relatives. , but also to spare energy to guard against that terrifying psychic energy.

[Your swordsmanship is much better than I thought, Guilliman. 】

After another fruitless attack, Morgan temporarily stopped the offensive. She was breathing heavily, and the sticky sweat dripped from her earlobes and chin, soaking her snow-white trimmed dress, like a scorching summer sweat. Delicious ice points that keep melting under the light.

"I have received twelve years of education from my blood relatives, including swordsmanship and various martial arts."

Guilliman clenched his fists tightly. He did not dare to let down his guard, because he knew very well that his blood relatives had used words as weapons to let down his guard and guard: that was the last round of duel, and what happened just now matter.

[Education... This is really a rare treasure. 】

"It's not rare, Morgan. In Macragge City, every citizen must receive nine to twelve years of basic education. This is a power that every ordinary person has."

【……】

The Spider Queen who wanted to say something suddenly fell into a stasis.

[I suddenly want to hit you, Guilliman. 】

"I'm right here: Like most of our matchups, right here."

[But you have never really defeated me, never knocked me to the ground in a one-on-one duel, so this has become your obsession when you come here again and again, right? 】

"That's right, Morgan."

"My ten victories were in the battle of tactics and soldiers, and I was able to draw from each of my defeats to shatter your offensive or your defenses on the battlefield: but I never defeated you in real combat. , I am a winner, but my victory is incomplete."

[You care too much about this, my brother Ultramar. You could have defeated me three times, but you insisted on coming in front of me to fight, thus dragging the battle to victory, but you fought A dead draw. 】

"I'm just not good at escaping."

Guilliman smiled, a smile so proud that it was almost instinctive.

"I admit that trickery and evasion can also bring victory, my blood, but there are some things that these cowardly methods cannot bring us: just like you will sit here and wait for me every time, in We hold the same view on this issue."

"And I have to admit, Morgan, if I hadn't insisted on knocking you down head-on, I wouldn't have been able to see your full strength. Do you still remember our seventeenth duel? Your legion was defeated on the battlefield, but You defeated me in battle while launching at least four hundred attacks against my command, turning the tide of the war in one fell swoop: impressive, my sister, very impressive."

[It’s just a helpless move. 】

Morgan hummed.

She raised a hand.

[Then, tell me, great Honorer, have you found a way to fight against my spiritual power? 】

"……No."

As soon as he finished speaking, a bright beam of light shot out from Morgan's palm. Although the Lord of the Ultramarines instinctively dodged aside, one side of his shoulder armor was still hit, and the cobalt blue glory and honor blinked. The space turned into tattered black coke.

[I just don’t understand, Guilliman. 】

Morgan frowned. She waved her spiritual light beam casually, watching her blood relatives become more and more skillful in dodging. Although they were hit and knocked away from time to time, they were always able to stand up quickly.

[In our first duel, you came directly in front of me and asked for a duel, and then you were crushed to death by me along with the entire hall: this is why our score was eleven to ten. 】

[And after so many times, you should also know that your strength cannot resist my psychic energy at close range: What makes you come here again and again? 】

"Like I said."

Guilliman spoke intermittently, because he had to rely on the cover of broken walls and the arbiter in his hand that fired from time to time to fight against the terrifying spiritual energy of his blood relatives.

"This is a duel, Morgan, and I have no reason to avoid it: psychic powers are far from a sufficient reason."

[Then you should always find a way: every one of my tactics will be quickly cracked by you, but my spiritual power is the only one that has an effect on you from beginning to end. Haven't you considered a way to deal with it? For example, you also use psychic energy to interfere with me in reverse. 】

"I'm not psychic, Morgan."

The voice of the Lord of the Ultramarines came from behind a nearly broken marble pillar. Morgan glanced at it and knocked away the explosive shell Guilliman used to interfere with her, flattening the pillar to the ground.

[No original body is absolutely incapable, Guilliman, even the tough-talking Barbarus. We are not Sisters of Silence. Our birth contains supernatural power. 】

"No, that's what primarchs are like."

"Isn't there one right in front of you?"

Guilliman's voice came from behind another low wall, making Morgan lower her eyebrows helplessly. She didn't know what her inexplicable preaching habit was about, but she didn't Concern: There are enough strange things happening to her, so many that she is a little overwhelmed.

[...As long as you are happy, Guilliman. 】

[So now, how are you going to fight against my psychic powers, just hiding like this? 】

"This is observation and sorting, Morgan."

"Through trial and error again and again, try out the power given to you by spiritual energy, and then summarize a set of real coping methods. Victory may not be this time, but it will always come."

【A Arabian Nights tale. 】

"Everything is a fantasy at the beginning, isn't it?"

Morgan exhaled a few wisps of disdain from her nostrils. She waved her hand, and Guilliman, who was heading towards the next hiding spot, slipped into a suddenly discovered portal. On the other side of the portal, It was a wall of blazing fire, enough to threaten the life of the Primarch.

But at this critical moment, the seemingly inevitable movement of the Lord of Macragge suddenly stopped strangely. His power fists slammed to the ground, and he pushed himself back with powerful force. On the other side: it was as if everything was within Guilliman's expectation.

The tips of the Primarch's hair were scratched by the greedy long tongue of the fire wall, leaving a few strands of faint black. Before Guilliman could take a breath, he rolled quickly and escaped in mid-air. Invisible threads cut ruthlessly.

"Their venom made me really suffer. My impression of this kind of thing is second only to your ruthless steel torrent that combined with the Adeptus Mechanicus to attack."

The Primarch chuckled and mocked himself. He tilted his head to avoid the unpredictable psychic lightning and molten beams. Then he quickly jumped up, threw away his bolt gun, drew his sword from its sheath, and The boulder heading straight for his head was cut in half.

"I've died every way."

He muttered to himself, then took out a handful of medicine from somewhere and threw it all into his throat, restoring the various physical indicators in his body that had begun to deteriorate for no reason to normal.

"Is this all you have, Morgan?"

【of course not. 】

A misty voice came from the distance. The Spider Queen stood against the light and stood on the hill at the end of the Primarch's field of vision.

[You are more stubborn than I thought, brother. 】

The Primarch smiled.

“Stubbornness itself is nothing more than a manifest reluctance, and no one is bored by real learning.”

[So... you are looking forward to my true ability? Guilliman? 】

"You can say that."

[Then I can't let you down. I am indeed tired of the countless red tapes involved in commanding operations. Now, I just want to beat you. 】

Morgan raised the non-existent bangs on her forehead, and her smile once again made Guilliman feel a little uneasy.

"You mean another duel?"

【No. 】

[Have you ever heard of biochemical psychic powers? Guilliman? 】

"I know that a psychic spell that specializes in manipulating biological energy and processes can change or affect the physical form of oneself and the enemy, thereby forming a blow."

[Yeah, let's try it. 】

Morgan smiled and slowly took off her sleeveless half-armor, leaving only the long skirt soaked in psychic energy wrapping her.

Then she started walking.

With every step he took, the ground shook more and more.

Guilliman opened his mouth. He looked at the scene in front of him in disbelief. The heavy boulders beside him began to tremble as the Lord of the Second Legion walked.

There are no colliding muscles or a ferocious face. Morgan's figure and appearance are still so slender and beautiful: except for one thing, every time she takes a step forward, her body will grow taller for no reason, which violates the rules of her body. Any law of physics known to Leeman.

One step, one step, and another.

Three meters, four meters, five meters...

When the shadow of the Lord of the Second Legion completely enveloped Guilliman, her body suddenly became no more different from an Imperial Knight. When she spoke again, her cold voice seemed It turned into rumbling thunder.

[So, are you ready to fight, Guilliman? 】

The huge voice stung the Primarch's ears. He couldn't help but raise his head, trying to see the faces of his blood relatives, but the close distance meant that he could only see the two fat dolphins perched on Morgan.

"Well……"

In a rare moment, the Primarch of the Ultramarines hesitated for a moment, and then he looked at his power gloves with some thankfulness.

【Are you prepared? 】

"It's just a precautionary measure. After all, I know the power of biochemical psychic energy."

Before he finished speaking, the ax blade in Morgan's hand, which was no different from a toy, was thrown towards Guilliman's face. The hairs on the back of the Primarch's neck stood up. He narrowed his eyes and accurately caught the Death God. Trail, then brandished his dagger and charged forward.

In an instant, fire splashed everywhere, and the blue-black ax blade was broken into pieces and scattered at Guilliman's feet. The genetic prime minister quickly pressed a button, lowered his center of gravity, and a weapon was visible to the naked eye. A solid shield quickly surrounded him.

It wasn't until here that the voice of the Lord of Macragge came, and his calm tone didn't sound like he was scared at all.

"It's just like you said, Morgan."

"I'm not unprepared."

[Private void shield? 】

Morgan's voice was no different from the gods above the clouds.

"Not exactly, but the effects are not much different, and you did choose a wrong fighting method for yourself, Morgan. Bigger is not better."

"Have you forgotten? Your legion has been defeated. All my artillery can be aimed directly at this place. You will fall first before my shield is weakened by the artillery. After all, your target is too conspicuous. ”

[Is this part of your plan? 】

"Not really. I have planned hundreds of possibilities in advance, and this is just one of them."

Guilliman frowned. He felt that his blood relative was a little too calm. Even her previous actions: the sudden increase in size without warning, and the current question, all revealed a joking attitude.

"...What about you, Morgan?"

"Aren't you going to start your attack? There are still ten seconds left for the first wave of fire."

【attack? 】

Morgan's laughter sounded like a drunken Venus at a banquet.

The next moment, a figure slowly walked out of the giant and walked in front of the shield of the Lord of the Ultramarines: it was Morgan.

Guilliman glanced at the blood relatives in front of him with some suspicion, and then at the huge human body above his head.

"phantom?"

【Who knows. 】

"It is true that you have not used this in previous duels, Morgan, but this psychic technique is so famous. I have a plan, and you cannot use it to defeat me."

The Primarch was talking, but above their heads, the first batch of cannonball strikes were already close at hand, accompanied by sharp roars.

[Who said I would use illusions to fight, my Guilliman? My attack has already been completed? 】

"...What attack?"

[A dagger behind the back. 】

"?"

"Is that an adjective?"

The Primarch frowned, and in the next second, a sharp sting came from the back of his neck: his throat and spine were pierced by a sharp blade, which was ignored by the Primarch, so The fragment of the ax blade broken by his own hands was emitting an invisible malignant light, depriving Guilliman of his breath while ruthlessly injecting poison into the Primarch's body.

In Guilliman's eyes, which quickly turned gray, there was only the roar of the approaching shells, and Morgan's smile.

【No. 】

[This is a noun. 】

——————

[Illusions are indeed famous, my Guilliman. 】

[But who said that an illusion has to be an illusion? 】

When such words were captured by Guilliman, the Lord of Macragge could only sigh helplessly in his heart.

All right……

Learning again.