Bruce could hold his own against the Thousand Sons who had been weakened by the Blank, relying on primarch-grade armor and weapons. But he was not stupid. Why would he waste precious stamina and time on these people?
His greatest advantage had never been himself.
It was the two primarchs who had come here with him.
With primarchs leading the dungeon run, why would I make things hard on myself?
On the other side, Horus and Curze, who were being swarmed by large numbers of Thousand Sons, were utterly unbothered. Anyone foolish enough to step within three meters of them was put down with ease.
Even Phosis T'kar, the Sanctum Master of the Raptora and captain of the Second Fellowship, could not deal them any meaningful damage for the moment.
As the second most powerful figure in the legion besides Ahriman, Phosis had been trying to organize their attacks, but with little success. No matter which fellowship a Thousand Son belonged to, as long as he dared step forward, he was pierced through and sent flying back.
And this was with the two primarchs still holding back. If they had truly intended to kill, the results would not have been a collapsed lung or a severed arm or leg.
"How is this so different from what we planned...?" Phosis watched their numbers steadily drop, pressure weighing heavily on him.
The order he had received was to stall. As long as they held out long enough, the secret art would eventually take effect and the two primarchs would collapse on their own.
But so much time had already passed, and not only were they fine, they seemed to be getting more excited.
How is that supposed to make sense?
"Raptora? Much weaker than I expected." Horus stood in place, one hand on her sword as she flicked away the staff of a Raptora sorcerer, then thrust upward with her blade—only to stop at the last instant, within a lethally close distance.
If she had wanted to, she could have driven the point through the gap beneath his helm and taken his life.
"..." Realizing he had already lost, the Raptora sorcerer raised both hands in surrender and announced his defeat with obvious frustration.
"And you're still playing your little mentoring game?" Curze had no such patience. She hurled Gungnir straight through the surrendering Thousand Son and pinned him through the chest.
Then she resumed her tiger-like assault on the Thousand Sons closing in around her. Everywhere she passed, another Astartes dropped, his armor split open and blood pouring out.
Horus paid no mind to Curze's words or her methods. She simply kept her one-handed stance with the black sword, using her Originium Arts to keep the wounded Thousand Sons barely alive.
Being ambushed and surrounded had infuriated her, but Horus understood the larger picture and treated every Thousand Son with unusual restraint.
Unless absolutely necessary, she would not lightly take a Thousand Son's life.
Even so, a few had still died in the fighting—but those had been accidents, not acts of deliberate slaughter.
Even ordinary Astartes could die in combat. How much more dangerous was it to challenge a primarch?
"Phosis, are you really going to keep fighting?" Horus tried to persuade him to stand down. "Your friendship with the Sixteenth Legion, the honor you won in the Ullanor campaign—I still remember all of it."
To Horus, Phosis was practically half one of her own people. After all, not many outside her legion could get along with the Mournival and the Sons of Horus as a whole.
"I'm sorry, Warmaster, but I have my reasons." After a long hesitation, Phosis finally chose to step forward himself.
Holding a strange crescent-shaped power sword, he advanced toward Horus.
"That is a shame..." Horus said no more. She tightened her grip on her black blade, and the look in her eyes suddenly sharpened.
She slashed out a wave of sword-force toward Phosis. He immediately raised a psychic barrier, but a red-and-black blur followed right behind it. Dozens of strikes landed in an instant, cracking the shield apart.
Then Horus appeared midair, bringing her sword point down toward Phosis's helmet.
Metal rang out sharply, mixed with the hiss of a sorcerous working.
Phosis's proud helmet was flung high into the air. At the final moment, he barely managed to teleport to a safer position—but the blood running down his forehead made one thing clear.
If his spell had been even a fraction slower, and if the barrier had not blocked that tiny instant—
He would be dead.
"..." Having brushed death itself, Phosis's heart pounded wildly.
He was absolutely no match for the Warmaster.
And he had realized something even more terrifying: even in her transformed body, even as a beastkin girl, Horus still possessed the physical power of a primarch.
That made things terrifying in a whole new way.
Which meant that if the Warmaster truly lost control, everyone here would die.
"Do you still intend to continue, Phosis?" Horus smiled and offered the invitation again.
Pitiful sons. Even knowing they could die, they still rushed forward for the sake of their primarch.
At the same time, the Thousand Sons chasing Bruce had nowhere near that kind of luck. For the first time in their lives, they felt that a Night Lord could be this infuriating.
Is he a rabbit or something? Why is he so good at running?!
Running was one thing. But every time they launched a psychic attack, he dodged it precisely. Even teleportation coordinates kept somehow missing him.
What infuriated them most was that Bruce kept circling the crystal throne, leaping onto it one second and dropping back to the floor the next.
At this point, they felt like monkeys being played with—furious, humiliated, and utterly helpless.
"Damn Night Lord! Fight us head-on if you've got the courage!"
"Coward!"
"So that's all the Eighth Legion does? Run with its tail tucked between its legs?!"
"You're acting like a woman!"
"Why are you still running?!"
"Wait—flying knives incoming! Quickly—ghk!"
"AAAAAAAHHH!"
"You despicable... Night Lord..."
"Let me catch you and I swear I'll make you regret it!"
Bruce, meanwhile, kept weaving around with infuriating composure.
He understood a simple truth: in battle, rushing was death. The moment the enemy lost their cool, he knew he was doing things right.
Besides, the Night Lords really were a legion built for skirmishing and harassment. What exactly were these Thousand Sons whining about? He was being forced to fight one against ten—why shouldn't he run?
Of course, every so often Bruce would toss one of his crude improvised flying knives over his shoulder. These things looked like the offspring of a machete welded to a length of pipe, but they pierced armor easily and chewed through flesh just as well.
After several exchanges, the number of Thousand Sons chasing Bruce steadily dwindled. Or rather, the more reckless Raptora were nearly gone. The ones left were the more cautious, calculating types.
"Newblood! Are you done playing yet?!" Curze's annoyed voice rang out.
"!" Bruce, who had been crouching atop the throne, turned his head and saw Curze scowling as she skewered another Thousand Son and snapped his neck. She was clearly done with the whole spectacle.
Now.
Seeing Bruce distracted for that split second, the remaining Thousand Sons struck all at once. Flesh-warping sorcery, lethal fireballs, direct assaults on the spirit and mind—
But before any of them could hit, a crimson spear flashed across the battlefield, intercepting every attack. Then it shot forward. The Thousand Sons stared in disbelief as Curze, floating in the air, closed in on them.
To them, the red light was barely a flash.
The next moment, the remaining six Thousand Sons collapsed into spreading pools of blood.
Any one of them might have become a cornerstone of the legion in the future. But Curze had killed them all.
Including their gene-seed.
She no longer had any patience for this pointless game.
"Magnus, put away your little sorcerer's tricks," Curze said, yanking Gungnir free in a spray of blood before turning and beckoning to Bruce. "Newblood!"
"Coming!" Bruce immediately jumped down to the ground, then dropped into a knee-slide in one smooth motion.
Curze mounted his shoulders like a rider climbing onto a horse, then pointed her spear at a golden wall in the distance.
"Charge!"
Bruce did not hesitate. The moment Curze gave the order, he obeyed. As he sprinted forward like a wild horse, Gungnir exploded with magic power and fired ahead.
In the blink of an eye, the spear became a massive armor-piercing projectile. It punched through the wall and detonated with violent energy. Every wall it penetrated lost both its defenses and its psychic properties.
Then Bruce smashed through the broken remains with his shoulder plate and followed in Gungnir's wake, finally arriving at the entrance to a silver maze-like corridor lined with runes.
"What is this place?!" Bruce asked, glancing back over his shoulder and wondering whether he should call Horus over too.
But in his view, Horus was still far too busy enjoying herself in the middle of combat, and the Thousand Sons surrounding her were in much the same state.
Are the Thousand Sons really this much of a circus too?
"No idea. But when I tell you where to go, you go," Curze said, her expression dark. She pointed forward. "Move, newblood. Before Magnus finishes whatever ritual he's preparing."
"Yes, ma'am!" Bruce did not waste a second. He broke into a full run and plunged into the silver labyrinth.
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 147)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter185)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter105)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter215)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 185
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 170
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass Volume2/1
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 206
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 190
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 154
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player Volume4/23
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 106
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 67
Uma Musume: From Beginner 125
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 85
Uma Musume: I Want All 105
I Can Copy Unique Skills 90
Summoning an Evil God, but the 70
Supernatural Multiverse 90
My Harem Is Indescribable 80
Jujutsu Kaisen: Heroic Spirit 86
"I'm just a Valkyrie passing through." 68
Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 81
Still playing traditional Honk 65
The Most Filial Son Under Heav 65
What Should I Do After Switchi - Volume2/3
Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 57
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 45
Transmigrated as Sukuna 59
Checking In in Demon Slayer 59
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 73
I Refuse to Become a Heroic 45
My Best Friend Into a Slime? 36
A Saiyan Stands Above Marvel 40
What Do You Mean by Using a Lab Mod to Be the Hero? 60
Tanya Starts from Re:Zero 30
Why did they assign me to Uma 35
MYGO Beauties 43
DanMachi: Emiya the Giant Hero 30
The Gacha Merchant Who Started 31
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