Dozens of hulking figures clad in red and white power armor, like a pack of blood-colored beasts breaking free from their cages, trampled over the ramparts built from the remains and corpses of their comrades as they roared into the Colosseum.
Their lungs let out scorching roars, and the engines of their chainaxes hummed, merging into a wall of metallic noise capable of tearing eardrums apart.
In the eyes of these World Eaters veterans burned the purest madness, catalyzed for countless years by the Butcher's Nails.
Their goal was clear and unified; they bypassed Fogremia, who stood at the entrance with a cold and displeased expression, and ignored the newly born Red-haired Valkyrie who radiated an aura both familiar and strange.
Everyone's killing intent, like poisoned arrows, was locked tightly onto the sole anomaly standing in the center of the arena—the woman with black hair reaching her ankles, whose face was like that of a deity.
"Kill that witch who blasphemed against Father!!!"
The leading captain, the scars on his face like twisted centipedes, roared and launched the first charge.
Anglonia did not even turn her head to look at Leticia.
Her tall, upright frame, over two meters tall and encased in copper-colored power armor, was like a red-hot, immovable mountain of steel, completely isolating the domain belonging to the goddess behind her from the surging wave of fury in front.
She just stood there quietly, letting the wild wind, mixed with the smell of blood and engine oil, blow through her fiery hair.
Until the captain's boots stepped across the invisible boundary ten meters in front of her.
"Kneel."
Anglonia spoke.
Her voice was not loud, even a bit hoarse, yet it was like an invisible giant hammer, smashing hard into the depths of every World Eaters soldier's soul present.
This command was not transmitted through the air.
The moment she spoke, the dark golden headpiece on her forehead, shaped like a crown of thorns, suddenly lit up with a brilliant, golden radiance filled with supreme majesty!
Hum—!
A pure, tangible pressure of Battle Intent, devoid of any pain or impurities, swept across the entire Colosseum like a tsunami!
The bodies of all the World Eaters in the midst of their charge stiffened abruptly.
In their minds, the eternally present roar of the Butcher's Nails, like billions of locusts gnawing on their nerves, was for the first time forcibly overwritten and suppressed by a higher, purer will.
It was an absolute hierarchical suppression originating from the deepest depths of their genes and souls!
It was a command from "Father"!
But... it was different.
Past commands were always accompanied by excruciating pain and fury, like a red-hot branding iron forcibly carving instructions onto their souls.
But the command at this moment was like a towering mountain, pressing directly down upon their will.
There was no pain, only a pure... majesty that made them unable to resist, or even harbor a single thought of resistance.
The momentum of most of the World Eaters' charge slowed down involuntarily under this unprecedented pressure.
Their movements became sluggish, and for the first time, an emotion other than madness—confusion—appeared in their scarlet eyes.
However, there are always the most stubborn souls.
"You are not Father!"
The leading veteran captain was one of the warriors who had followed Angron the longest; the nails in his brain had long since fused with his soul, and pain was the source of his power.
He forcibly resisted the pressure and let out an even angrier roar.
"You are the usurper's witchcraft! It's a trick of Chaos God Tzeentch!!"
He attributed this incomprehensible phenomenon to the only enemy he could think of.
"For the glory of Father! Tear her apart!!"
The veteran captain raised his chainaxe high, using all his strength to bring the weapon, stained with the blood of countless enemies, crashing down toward Anglonia's head!
There was not the slightest ripple in Anglonia's amber eyes.
She moved.
Her movements were no longer the wild, wide-swinging, trade-blows-for-blows madness of the past.
Beneath the copper-colored power armor, every inch of muscle coordinated with an explosive sense of beauty.
Her figure swayed slightly, and while the sandy ground beneath her feet didn't explode into a deep crater, she herself appeared on the captain's right side like a crimson phantom sliding close to the ground, moving at an incredible speed far exceeding the limits of her power armor.
The chainaxe, carrying the force of ten thousand tons, whistled past, almost grazing the tips of her hair.
Fast!
Too fast!
So fast that the captain's dynamic vision system couldn't even capture her trajectory!
Before he could adjust his posture, an even more terrifying gust of wind whistled in from his blind spot on the right.
The engine of the chainaxe in Anglonia's hand didn't even roar at maximum capacity.
With surgical precision, she flipped the axe and used its thick, sturdy back to strike first, slamming hard against the knee joint of the veteran captain, which was covered in heavy ceramite armor.
Crack—!!!
A teeth-gritting, crisp sound of bone and metal shattering together rang clearly throughout the arena.
"Aaaaah—!"
The veteran captain let out a shrill scream, filled with pain, but even more so with disbelief.
His right leg, which had supported him in charging and fighting for decades, bent inward at a grotesque angle, no longer able to support his hulking frame.
His whole body involuntarily and clumsily collapsed, kneeling on one knee in the direction of Anglonia.
Everything happened in the blink of an eye.
Anglonia's movements were fluid, without the slightest pause.
After defeating the first challenger, her figure did not stop for a moment; like a red dolphin playing in rough waves, she moved rapidly and elegantly, filled with the aesthetics of violence, among those World Eaters at the front who were stunned by their companion's fall.
Every swing of her chainaxe was calculated to the millimeter.
The axe back slammed into the second person's ankle.
The end of the axe handle prodded the third person's chest, the immense impact causing his knees to buckle.
A swift side kick struck the fourth person's leg joint with precision...
"Bang!" "Crack!" "Thud!"
A series of dull, impactful collision sounds, like a dense drumbeat, rang out one after another in the Colosseum.
It was only a matter of a few breaths.
When Anglonia's figure returned to her original spot and stood quietly.
Those seven or eight most fanatical World Eaters veterans who had charged at the front, attempting to challenge her majesty, had, without exception, fallen before her, maintaining the posture of "kneeling on one knee" in a humiliating and painful manner.
Not a single person died.
Not even a single person suffered a fatal wound.
But all of them had lost their combat effectiveness and could only kneel there, looking up at the insurmountable red mountain before them with eyes mixed with fear, shock, and confusion.
This... what kind of fighting style is this?
No wild hacking, no splattering blood, no suicidal fury.
Only... absolute, overwhelming, precise, and efficient violence.
This was a kind of "art" belonging to the strong that they had never seen before.
The Colosseum fell into a dead silence.
The remaining World Eaters all stopped in their tracks, staring blankly at this scene that had overturned their perception.
Anglonia slowly raised the chainaxe in her hand, resting the still-humming axe blade on her shoulder.
Her amber eyes, burning with raging flames, slowly swept across the face of every warrior in the arena like a monarch.
"She."
Anglonia pointed with the tip of her axe toward the black-haired goddess behind her, who had been calm from beginning to end, with even a faint smile on the corners of her lips.
"Is your new God."
Her voice, like an oracle, echoed in the minds of every World Eater.
"My fury is your new glory. My will is your only direction."
"Now, make your choice."
Anglonia's gaze fell upon those World Eaters who were still standing and in a daze, her voice suddenly turning cold.
"Obey, or..."
Her gaze turned to the challengers who were kneeling on the ground.
"...like them, learn how to kneel!"
"Bow down to your goddess!"
Boom—!
That pure pressure of Battle Intent erupted once again!
This time, no one tried to resist.
The remaining World Eaters, looking at that overwhelming, incomprehensible violence, and feeling that brand-new psychic link—originating from "Father" but completely different, bringing no more pain, only pure power—
The madness in their eyes receded rapidly like a receding tide.
In its place was a more primitive, more fanatical emotion.
It was the awe of the weak toward the absolute strong...
It was the submission of lost beasts toward a new leader...
It was the most instinctive fanaticism of believers toward a living deity!
"Thump!"
A World Eater warrior was the first to throw away his weapon, his knees slamming heavily onto the ground as he lowered his arrogant head.
This action was like a command, like a plague.
"Thump!" "Thump!" "Thump!"
One after another, row after row.
Hundreds of violent, beast-like World Eaters Space Marines, at this moment, all laid down their weapons and, in a posture of near piety, knelt on one knee in the direction of Leticia.
In the entire Colosseum, only the dull and uniform sound of power armor colliding with the ground remained.
Finally, all was silent.
A legion had thus submitted.
Leticia looked at this spectacular scene before her and nodded with satisfaction.
Anglonia, this newborn Sister created by her own hands, had perfectly completed her first assignment.
Just at this moment, Anglonia, who had completely taken control of the legion, slowly turned around.
The monstrous Battle Intent on her, enough to make a legion tremble, melted away without a trace the moment she faced Leticia, like snow dispersed by the spring breeze.
She strode forward with her long legs, reaching Leticia in a few steps.
Then, under the fanatical gaze of all the World Eaters, this Valkyrie, who had just reigned supreme, knelt on one knee again in a posture more pious and standard than any of them.
Her copper-colored alloy knee armor made a dull and powerful sound against the ground stained with bloody sand.
"Goddess."
Anglonia looked up, and for the first time, all the Battle Intent and majesty faded from her eyes, which burned with amber flames, revealing an emotion mixed with pleading and deep sorrow that Leticia had never seen on her before.
Her voice even carried a hint of imperceptible trembling.
"My children... and those who died..."
"I beg you..."
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