A furious roar burst from Thor's throat; he felt himself almost transforming into a beast consumed by rage.
That was a rage stemming from his gene-seed, a rage from the source of his gene sequence ten thousand years ago, a rage from a warrior who had once been betrayed by his own gene-father.
But before this rage, a flicker of bewilderment surprisingly crossed Thor's mind.
Many fragmented memories flashed before Thor's eyes.
That noble purple figure, that King of Phoenicia, that Phoenix Sovereign.
That beautiful man who, even standing amidst a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, remained unsullied by a single speck of dirt.
That Primarch whose glory, even after countless battles, had not faded in the slightest.
That Emperor's Children who was almost the embodiment of the concepts of perfection and pride in the human world.
He seemed to see that beautiful purple figure smiling as he picked up a little girl, placing her on his shoulder, and countless people cheered at the sight.
Just by looking at that figure, Thor felt a surge of emotion; he was even willing to abandon his pursuit of perfection and pride, to serve him and the Emperor wholeheartedly.
But all of this shattered in an instant, leaving only betrayal, bombardment, slaughter, and a twisted, viscous, half-human, half-serpent demon.
It was in the destruction of this beautiful illusion that boundless rage was born.
Thor drew the Necron Phase Blade he had just retrieved; he didn't even have to think about how to act, his body moved on its own, even more agile, swift, and unpredictable than Thor usually was.
"traitor!!" Thor growled, his blade aimed directly at Fulgrim's throat.
Fulgrim, however, merely wore a melancholic smile, looking at Thor with a gaze that was complex with a hint of surprise.
"Tarvitz?" he murmured softly.
Boom!!!
Blades clashed; a long sword, slender like a viper's fangs, blocked Thor's path, intercepting Thor's anaphase sword.
It was an Astartes clad in Mark IV Power Armor, his purple and gold armor covered in battlefield oaths.
"Are you mad? As an Emperor's Children, how dare you harm our Primarch, who has returned to purity?" the Astartes swordsman demanded.
"I am a Sons of the Phoenix, I am a son of 罗格.多恩!" Thor roared back.
"What foolishness are you speaking? How does that stone, 罗格.多恩, resemble a phoenix at all??" the Astartes swordsman yelled, demanding an answer.
The two swordsmen were very close, so close that Thor could even clearly see the battlefield oaths inscribed on the swordsman's power armor. The content of those oaths made Thor feel a strange sense of familiarity.
Thor's gaze froze, and some memories hidden in his genes resurfaced. He vaguely saw the figure of the person before him in those memories.
Flavius Alkenes, head of the Phoenix Guard, chief of the Primarch's bodyguard, who had stood with Fulgrim during the Battle of Istvaan III.
Another traitor.
The sharp anaphase sword instantly outlined several deadly slashes, forcing Alkenes back several steps.
This caused the former chief of the Phoenix Guard to feel a touch of bewilderment. Undoubtedly, this young man attempting to attack the Primarch was an Emperor's Children.
But his swordsmanship… how could it be so exquisite?
Alkenes's martial arts were not bad; ever since Fulgrim's eldest son, the chief court swordsman Akul Duna, had fallen, there hadn't been a swordsman in the entire Legion who could completely suppress him, and those who could match him were few and far between.
Alkenes was stunned for a moment; he suddenly realized that the swordsmanship of the person before him was familiar, and the face of the person before him also felt somewhat familiar.
"Tarvitz? Is that you?" Alkenes called out tentatively.
But only more deadly sword strikes answered him.
Alkenes composed himself, banishing the utterly bizarre thought from his mind.
Tarvitz was dead. Dead on Istvaan III.
Could it be that his gene-seed had survived?
"Alkenes? I thought he died at Fabius's hands."
That sinister voice whispered in Thor's mind:
"Tarvitz's memory is correct; he is indeed the chief of the Phoenix Guard, perhaps the last Phoenix Guard in the galaxy."
"I recall he seemed to have joined Eidolon's Phoenix Conclave, but he and the Phoenix Conclave, or rather the entire Emperor's Children now, were completely out of place. No self-mutilation, not much debauchery, no mutations on his body; he was practically unchanged from back then."
"It was precisely for this reason that this fellow wasn't very popular, so Eidolon threw him over to Fabius Bile, and then he was never heard from again. I didn't expect him to appear here."
"Boy, even if Tarvitz himself were here, he wouldn't break through his defenses this quickly, but if it's my power—"
The sinister temptation swirled in Thor's mind. His will, enveloped in rage, wavered for a moment.
If he could kill Fulgrim…
This thought only flashed through Thor's mind for an instant, but after that single instant, Thor suddenly felt a surge of power within his body.
A sinister, arrogant, and tyrannical power.
The hilt of a sword suddenly appeared in his ungloved left hand, and a long, twisted sword materialized in his grip.
That sword was not like a human weapon; it shimmered with lewd light, and the moment it appeared in Thor's hand, it transformed into a swarm of snake-like sword-lights, stabbing towards Alkenes.
His right-hand sword strikes were steady and swift, while his left-hand strikes were sinister and treacherous, like an aquila and a viper intertwined.
Alkenes's Phoenician Blade was difficult to parry, and this last Phoenix Guard simultaneously recognized the swordsmanship of Thor's left hand.
"Right hand Tarvitz, left hand Lucius, how did you learn your swordsmanship???"
"Won't your left and right hands fight each other???"
Alkenes cried out in alarm.
He himself was a master swordsman, and setting aside the irreconcilable relationship between Tarvitz and Lucius, their swordsmanship styles were completely different.
But Thor wielded them without any hindrance, as if two souls within him were swinging the swords on his behalf.
Alkenes found it difficult to parry; the Phoenician Blade in his hand was knocked aside, and he retreated several steps.
"You — um?"
Just as Alkenes was about to ask Thor what was going on, he suddenly clearly saw the shape of the sword in Thor's left hand, and his expression suddenly turned horrified:
"The Blade of Laer!!"
"The Blade of Laer." Fulgrim's expression also darkened slightly. "Lucius?"
The Blade of Laer was the cause of Fulgrim's past fall; after the demon in the sword departed, it was bestowed upon Lucius by Fulgrim.
Thor roared and lunged at Fulgrim.
Within his mind was an uncontrollable anger and hatred, and countless hateful memory fragments flashed before his eyes.
This time, what blocked him was a dense network of spears.
Those Sons of the Phoenixs, clad in Tartarus Pattern Terminators Armor, like the Phoenix Guard of old, stood before Thor, their Chapter Master.
"Chapter Master, stop at once!"
"He is our Primarch!"
"He is our gene-father!"
"He is the source of our corruption!!!" Thor growled.
"Allow me to correct you, the sword in your hand is more deserving of the title 'source of corruption'." Fulgrim spoke softly, pointing at the Blade of Laer in Thor's hand.
Thor paused, looking with some bewilderment at the Blade of Laer that had appeared in his right hand at some unknown point—
Boom!!!
Thor was flung away like a rag doll. The Blade of Laer flew out with a crash, landing on the ground, and then vanished in the blink of an eye.
Fulgrim stood before Thor at some unknown point, having knocked Thor down and sent the Blade of Laer flying with a single strike.
He looked down at Thor from above.
"Lucius is within you."
This was not a question; the Primarch was very certain.
He grabbed Thor's shoulder plate, lifted him, and kicked him to his side.
Then, Fulgrim tilted his head, leaning close to Thor's ear:
"Lucius, if you dare to possess this body, if you dare to possess this young man who inherited Tarvitz's gene-seed…"
"…I will stuff you into an iron coffin that blocks all senses, throw you into the endless void within Saint Doraemon's pocket, and let you experience eternal boredom and tranquility, without joy, without honor, forgotten by all beings."
His voice was so intimate, yet so chillingly cold.
The sinister soul within Thor shrieked, retreating in terror to the depths of Thor's will.
Thor, meanwhile, clutched the anaphase sword in his hand. At such close range, he could—
"Chapter Master! Lord Guilliman has accepted the existence of our Primarch; he is loyal!"
"And Lord Saint Doraemon has returned! It was he who told us you would be here and sent us to pick you up!"
The members of the Sons of the Phoenix standing behind Fulgrim said in haste.
Hearing the names Guilliman and Saint Doraemon, Thor hesitated slightly, but ultimately did not raise the anaphase sword in his hand again.
Fulgrim's lips curved into a slightly displeased arc.
"What, is Guilliman more trustworthy than I am? Are you my descendant or his descendant?"
Thor stared at Fulgrim coldly, not saying a word.
Fulgrim smiled slightly, seemingly unconcerned. He tilted his head back, patted Thor's shoulder, and helped Thor's body upright.
"Tarvitz, I know you can hear me."
"Father is releasing his Emperor's Cursed Legion in large numbers in the Nephilim Sector; I presume you are one of them as well."
"This Primaris used your gene-seed and formed some kind of resonance with you, didn't he?"
"You need not worry; I am not him. I am not the corrupt and poisonous serpent."
"I am his clone, but I do not belong to the the thirsting lord; rather, I belong to your Phoenix, the true Emperor's Children."
Thor looked at the Fulgrim before him in a daze.
The will named Tarvitz in his mind trembled slightly, seemingly seeing a glimmer of hope.
A clone? Is he really different?
"You need not fear, need not worry, for I am more perfect than he, I will achieve true perfection, and I will lead you all into the realm of true perfection."
In Thor's mind, Tarvitz was emitting a sharp blast.