The Tyrant, one of the earliest and most successful bio-weapons developed by the Atlas Bio-Division, was designed to excel in complex battlefield environments such as urban warfare and airborne operations.
The production cost of this bio-weapon was comparable to that of a standard armored personnel carrier, making it a prime example of "cost-effective" engineering.
However, its affordability should not be mistaken for weakness.
In fact, the Tyrant's true combat capabilities were enough to make any enemy who underestimated it pay a heavy price.
The Tyrant's performance had been proven in countless battles.
Just two prototype Tyrants had successfully killed a superhuman with the ability to control storms and lightning, whose skin was as tough as steel.
Yet, even with such formidable powers, the superhuman could not escape death when faced with the overwhelming brute strength and resilience of the Tyrants.
Such feats had cemented the Tyrant's reputation on the battlefield, especially in environments where armored vehicles were restricted. Its intimidation and destructive power were unmatched.
On paper, the Tyrant's reaction speed and agility were indeed far inferior to those of the Astartes, who were enhanced by gene technology and top-tier equipment.
After all, the Astartes' reaction speed was measured in nanoseconds.
However, in terms of raw strength, the Tyrant surpassed 99% of the Astartes.
Under normal circumstances, an Astartes without power armor had an arm strength ranging from 3 to 12 tons, depending on the individual's physical condition and compatibility after receiving the gene seed.
But the Tyrant was different. Even in its standard state, its arm strength reached a staggering 160 tons.
This not only gave it extraordinary destructive power in combat but also allowed it to easily tear through enemy defenses and destroy fortified positions.
This design made the Tyrant an absolute powerhouse in urban warfare.
It could breach enemy cover, withstand concentrated light fire, and provide reliable fire support for allied troops.
Although the Tyrant lacked the agility, speed, and reaction time of the Astartes, it had proven its worth on countless battlefields and was one of the crowning achievements of the Atlas Bio-Division and Research Division.
Moreover, the Tyrant's true terror was revealed when it was injured.
When the Tyrant entered its "Rampage" state, also known as the "Restraint Release" mode, it sacrificed some of its defenses in exchange for a significant boost in speed, reaction time, and strength.
In this state, the Tyrant became like an awakened beast.
And without its psychic barrier, the Daemonette was naturally unable to withstand the full force of the Tyrant's attack.
After delivering a devastating punch that "shattered" the Daemonette, the pilot wasted no time activating the Tyrant's Rampage mode to prepare for the next phase of the battle.
Ting~ Ting—!
With a series of crisp unlocking sounds, the armor system restraining the Tyrant's body quickly disengaged.
This armor, which had previously covered its limbs and torso like a coat, was designed to limit its excessive power output.
As the restraining armor pieces fell away, the Tyrant's rock-like muscles were gradually exposed to the smoke-filled air.
Now, the Tyrant had revealed its true form.
Its muscles and skin were as hard as boulders, covered in deep cracks and fissures that oozed bright red tissue, resembling flowing magma.
Its arms had significantly expanded, with the circumference of its biceps far exceeding normal human proportions. Its right hand had transformed into a massive claw, each finger gleaming with a cold, deadly light.
Its height had also increased to nearly five meters after releasing its restraints, making it a moving fortress of war.
...
The Tyrant's lifeless eyes scanned the battlefield before finally locking onto a Son of the Emperor who was facing away from it.
Thud! Thud—!
Under the pilot's control, the Tyrant charged forward with tremendous force.
Everything in its path—whether heretics or Chaos creatures—was either crushed into dust or sent flying into the air.
Those who tried to stop it were instantly overwhelmed by its sheer brute strength, their bodies twisted into unrecognizable shapes upon impact.
As the distance to its target closed, the Tyrant's accelerating steps caused the ground to tremble.
Seeing that it was about to reach the Son of the Emperor, the pilot quickly targeted the spine, a critical weak point, and prepared to deliver a devastating punch aimed at crushing the Chaos Astartes from spine to skull.
Clang—! Clang—!
Hum—! Hum—!!
However, just as the Tyrant's fist was about to strike, the other Sons of the Emperor, who had already sensed the danger, turned and unleashed a barrage of fire.
The roar of bolters and the thunder of heavy weapons filled the air, creating a deafening "sonic wave" that echoed down the main street like a symphony of death.
The heavy artillery, though resembling machine guns in appearance, fired continuous "sonic wave" attacks that surged like tidal waves.
Each bolt round penetrated the Tyrant's tough exterior, and each sonic beam tore through its tissue layer by layer.
Thud—! Thud—!!
The Tyrant's rock-like muscles and flesh were torn apart under the concentrated fire.
Despite its massive physique and overwhelming strength, which made it a fearsome presence on the battlefield, the Tyrant was no match for the precise firepower of several Sons of the Emperor.
In just a few seconds, the once seemingly invincible Tyrant was reduced to rubble.
Its body was torn apart, its remains scattered across the smoke- and blood-filled main street. The burning blood and smoking fragments were a testament to its complete destruction.
There was no helping it. The overall strength of the Astartes, especially the Chaos Astartes, still far surpassed that of the unrestrained Tyrant.
If the Tyrant could truly go toe-to-toe with the Astartes, Atlas would not have focused the majority of its research on the gene seed project before the Empire's founding.
"Roar—! For the Emperor!"
"Kill! Kill!"
However, at this moment on the battlefield, the unique battle cries of the elite veterans echoed as over a thousand of them joined the fierce battle.
These veterans, belonging to a race of natural warriors, displayed their clan's proud skills and courage to the fullest.
They abandoned the plasma rifles issued by the Empire and instead wielded their clan's signature dual-bladed energy swords, power spears, and power axes, coordinating with the human forces to launch a fierce assault on the Sons of the Emperor.
In one-on-one combat, the elite veterans knew they were no match for these "monsters."
The bodies of the Chaos Astartes had been twisted and enhanced by Chaos, granting them strength, speed, and endurance far beyond that of ordinary Astartes. Even the strongest elite warriors could not match them.
However, the honor-bound elite veterans were not so rigid as to insist on facing a far stronger enemy head-on and alone.
They understood that they had to set aside personal glory and fight for the collective victory.
If they couldn't win one-on-one, they would "gang up" on their enemies!
Their reactions, strength, and speed were far superior to those of the auxiliary troops who had received the Inquisitorial serum, allowing them to vaguely track the movements and attacks of the Chaos Astartes.
Thus, the elite veterans chose to attack in groups of six or ten, focusing on a single Son of the Emperor.
Each attack was swift and precise, and each veteran fought in perfect coordination, sacrificing their lives to break through the enemy's defenses.
Although the sacrifices were inevitable, they were a source of pride for the veterans, as they were willing to face the enemy head-on with their flesh and blood for the sake of "Our Lord (Samuel Young)."
The elite veterans knew that such sacrifices not only alleviated the pressure on their human allies but also represented their ultimate destiny.
According to the "Human Codex" and the teachings of the Imperial Creed, "Our Lord" would guide the souls of those who gave their lives straight to "heaven," completing their pilgrimage.
For the elite veterans, this was an unparalleled honor.
Thus, they fought like madmen, launching fierce attacks on the Sons of the Emperor.
"Roar—!"
One elite veteran swung his dual-bladed energy sword, engaging a Son of the Emperor in direct combat.
Although his blade could not harm the enemy, and his sword was blocked by the enemy's chainsword, his comrades attacked from multiple directions.
Ssshh—!
A power spear accurately pierced the Chaos Astartes' knee joint, forcing it to stagger back.
The cost, however, was that the veteran wielding the dual-bladed energy sword had half his body sliced off by a backhand swing of the chainsword, blood spraying everywhere.
Meanwhile, the veteran wielding the power spear had his energy shield and chest cavity crushed by the Son of the Emperor's right fist.
At the same time, another veteran who had just raised his dual-bladed energy sword was decapitated by the chainsword.
Yet, their sacrifices created a rare opportunity for the squad.
The remaining three veterans rushed forward, taking advantage of the Chaos Astartes' momentary stumble to thrust their energy weapons into its joints and gaps.
"No—!"
With a roar of defiance, the Chaos Astartes' power armor was completely torn apart, and thick black-red blood spilled onto the ground.
The Son of the Emperor's final counterattack still "took out" one elite veteran, but it was ultimately "dismembered" by the remaining two.
From an aerial view of the main street, the battlefield situation had undergone a significant change.
The Chaos forces, led by the Sons of the Emperor, began to retreat like a receding tide.
Although the human forces had paid a heavy price—nearly a hundred Astartes, thousands of ODSTs, auxiliary troops, and elite veterans had bravely sacrificed their lives—these sacrifices were not in vain.
Every blood-stained brick, every fallen body, was irrefutable evidence of their efforts to halt the spread of Chaos.
With unwavering determination and courage, the human forces had firmly blocked the enemy's advance.
After all, without their primary combatant, Lucius, the Sons of the Emperor's decline was inevitable.
As for Lucius and the Company Champion;
Clang—! Clang—!
The intense duel showed no signs of slowing down. The sharp weapons clashed in the air, sending sparks flying, while the surrounding ruins and debris were torn apart with each collision.
These two representatives of their respective factions' top combatants were temporarily unable to kill each other...
No, to be precise, Lucius was in no hurry to end the fight.
Each of Lucius's light steps and blade swings was executed with a playful rhythm.
Its breathing was steady, its movements calm, and it showed no signs of fatigue.
All of this indicated that Lucius was enjoying this "game."
In Lucius's eyes, the Company Champion was merely a time-wasting opponent.
Neither the fierce clashes in combat nor the occasional close calls with the Company Champion's attacks had caused Lucius any anxiety.
The Company Champion's situation, however, was entirely different.
Although he continued to swing his power sword with all his might, fighting desperately against Lucius, his physical condition had severely deteriorated.
The shoulder armor on his left side was completely destroyed, his abdomen had a penetrating wound, and his right arm was now just a stump, with blood and torn muscles covering his armor.
While his clotting function prevented him from dying immediately, he had already lost a significant amount of combat effectiveness.
Each of the Company Champion's attacks became more laborious, as if his strength and agility were steadily diminishing.
Every swing of his sword, every strike, seemed slower, and his precision was no longer as sharp as before.
Although he continued to fight with unwavering faith, striving to meet Lucius's challenge, his actions silently conveyed one truth—
He was no longer a match for Lucius.
The prolonged battle was solely due to Lucius's desire to torment this brave opponent in the most painful and mocking way possible.
As for the deaths of his subordinates?
As long as it pleased the god he served, Lucius couldn't care less.
Besides, the battlefield was littered with gene seeds. If collected, they could still be used to expand his forces.
"Kid, I'm done playing. It's about time you go and prove your loyalty to the False Emperor!"
At this moment, Lucius suddenly increased the tempo of its attacks.
It lashed out with the "Lash of Torment," causing the whip—composed of small daemonic entities and twisted organs—to wrap around the Company Champion's neck.
At the same time, the barbs at the end of the whip pierced through the fluid metal layer of the nanosuit and dug deep into the Company Champion's flesh.
With a sharp tug from Lucius—
Riiip—!!!
The Company Champion's spine and head were violently torn off.
Lucius then flicked the whip, catching the severed head in its hand, and chuckled to itself:
"Kid, you've got potential, but you're too young and inflexible. Killing you wouldn't bring me any pleasure."
As it spoke, Lucius glanced at the Company Champion's headless corpse and added:
"Is there really no one in this universe worth fighting against? Just a bunch of trash."
As soon as it finished speaking, Lucius suddenly sensed a familiar "presence."
It turned its head to look northward down the street and spotted the 2nd Company's Honor Guard, along with Captain Saul Tarvitz, preparing to join the battle...
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