Eroking
patreon
Chapter 259: I Am Ferrus, But You Are Not Fulgrim
🕑 Added 2025-08-31 14:25:17 +0000 UTCChapter 259: I Am Ferrus, But You Are Not Fulgrim
"Fulgrim... after all these years, you are still lost! Look at your body, what have you become? Is this what you call perfection? You monster... is this what you wanted?"
A pang of anguish shot through Ferrus as he looked at Fulgrim's body. His once-handsome brother had been utterly transformed into a monster. The passage of time had only made Fulgrim's form more grotesque and alien. Few of his human features remained. Perhaps in another ten thousand years, there would be no trace of the Primarch left in him at all.
When Fulgrim had killed him, he had still possessed a human form.
"Shut up! You shut your mouth, Ferrus!" Fulgrim shrieked. "Power requires sacrifice! Compared to everything I have gained, your words are meaningless. Since you refuse to join me... then I will kill you a second time! I have achieved immortality! Nothing can kill me, but you are still the same as you ever were. I could kill you then, and I can kill you now!"
"You will not have the chance!"
An immense wave of psychic energy erupted from Ferrus. The power that naturally emanated from his Wraithbone body, combined with the psionic energy supplied by the Spear of Adun, made his psychic presence no weaker than that of the daemon-ascended Fulgrim.
A psychic maul coalesced in Ferrus's hands, and from his back, countless high-powered ranged weapons deployed. The power source for all these weapons had been converted to psionic energy. Knowing he would be facing a daemonic Fulgrim, Ferrus had personally modified this arsenal. The best way to fight psionic power is with psionic power.
Ferrus was not only a mighty warrior but also one of the finest artisans in the Imperium. While Vulkan forged exquisite artifacts, Ferrus's specialty was devastatingly powerful weapons for direct application on the battlefield.
"Psykana..." Fulgrim hissed. "You use psychic powers now? Are you not afraid of the condemnation of the 'father' you speak of?"
Fulgrim remembered that the Ferrus of old would never use psychic abilities. This was a power that should not be his. The psychic maul in Ferrus's hand radiated a palpable threat, and Fulgrim brought himself to full alertness, raising his four arms and crossing his four blasphemous artifacts before him. His brother, who had once scorned psionic power, now wielded it with such mastery. What in the galaxy had happened to him?
Ferrus's only reply was a brutally powerful beam of psychic energy.
The unannounced attack struck Fulgrim squarely. The psionic blast ravaged his daemonic form, tearing a bloodless hole in his corrupted flesh. Fulgrim stared at the wound as the power of the warp began to knit his body back together.
Seeing their Primarch injured, the Noise Marines among the Emperor's Children immediately retaliated with their sonic weapons. But what damage could weapons designed to liquefy mortal organs do to the fully mechanized bodies of the Purifiers and Ferrus?
The Purifiers began to charge. They possessed nearly all the combat skills of a normal Zealot, and the speed-enhancement systems in their legs activated, propelling them forward at an incredible velocity as they crashed into the lines of the Emperor's Children and the daemons of Slaanesh. Their energy shields absorbed the enemy's attacks, and even after the shields were breached, their Wraithbone bodies still offered excellent protection.
The anti-matter shots of the Immortals detonated throughout the enemy ranks. Ferrus himself had become a humanoid weapons platform, though he could not fire indiscriminately; he had to conserve energy to remain active. One by one, the Emperor's Children and daemons were annihilated. However, the concentrated fire still caused considerable losses among the Purifiers, who lacked sufficient ranged weaponry, as they charged.
Seeing the Purifiers shatter into mechanical fragments, Fulgrim laughed with scorn. "Are these your new weapons? So fragile..."
But as the Emperor's Children vaulted over the wreckage, the Purifiers that should have been destroyed began to reassemble. A second later, they had rejoined the battle, and the Emperor's Children and Slaaneshi daemons suddenly found themselves encircled.
The words of mockery had barely left his lips. The resounding slap of this reversal sent Fulgrim's rage soaring once more. Even in his daemonic form, he was still ruled by his emotions. He completely forgot the orders Slaanesh had given him. Kill or capture Lucan? It no longer mattered. His only target now was Ferrus. His mind was consumed by a single thought: kill Ferrus again. It was his inner demon, an obsession he could never escape.
"Ferrus! Face me!"
As Fulgrim charged, Ferrus aimed all his ranged firepower at his brother's profane body. But through sheer resilience, Fulgrim managed to close the distance. One of his arms had been blown off, a section of his serpentine tail was shorn away, and his blasphemous armor was shattered, revealing the fully daemonic flesh beneath.
As he finally reached his brother, Fulgrim swung his blades. Ferrus could feel that Fulgrim was indeed stronger than he had been ten thousand years ago—stronger by more than a small margin. But while his power had increased, his skill had not fundamentally changed. Ten thousand years of indulgence and pleasure had, in the end, made him lazy.
The battle between the two Primarchs destroyed everything around them. Wounds appeared on both their bodies. But as Fulgrim's blades struck Ferrus, he felt a strange, jarring sensation. He looked at the spot where he had hit his brother and saw that his blade was stuck in his body. The sound of tearing flesh he expected was replaced by the clang of metal on metal.
Fulgrim's eyes narrowed. The synth-skin had been sliced open, revealing the mechanical body of a Purifier beneath. Its strength, which surpassed even adamantium, had blocked his attack. And then Fulgrim noticed that this special body of Ferrus's was slowly healing... just as his own body drew power from the warp, Ferrus's Wraithbone frame was absorbing that same psionic energy to repair itself.
"You are not Ferrus... you are absolutely not Ferrus... Your body... there is something wrong with your body! Tell me who you are! Only your arms should have been encased in metal! Now your body has not a single shred of flesh!"
"Who am I? I am me. I am a loyalist. I am the Primarch of the Iron Hands, Ferrus Manus! And you... you are not the Fulgrim I once knew! My brother is dead. You are nothing but a daemon wearing his body! You are not worthy to live under his name! My brother is dead! Dead!"
Ferrus's words pierced Fulgrim's very soul.
In that single moment of stunned hesitation, Ferrus brought his psychic maul crashing down on Fulgrim's head. The massive daemonic body was slammed into the ground. A psychic maul, unlike a physical weapon, could inflict true damage on a daemonic entity.
Fueled by hatred and rage at his brother's betrayal, Ferrus hammered the maul down on Fulgrim's head again and again.
A battle between such mighty beings is often decided in an instant.
When Ferrus stopped, Fulgrim's body was already beginning to dissipate. Even daemons have their limits.
"Ferrus..." Fulgrim whispered.
"A daemon is not worthy to speak my name."
Fulgrim had been banished, not just by Ferrus's physical blows, but also by the fatal poison of his own self-doubt. His soul returned to the realm of Slaanesh, where the Dark Prince, extremely displeased with his performance, would subject him to the most severe torments.
Fulgrim's defeat did not stop the daemons of Slaanesh from attacking. The grotesque daemons charged Ferrus in his place, but the remaining Emperor's Children, seeing their Primarch defeated, broke. Their morale shattered, and they began to retreat from the battlefield.
