On both sides of the arena, eighty-eight Bloodthirsters stirred restlessly, eagerly flexing their fists, impatient to unleash their fury.
The Sentinels stood in neat formation on one side, their positions carefully chosen to allow them to form a military array to resist enemies at any time.
"Take this!" Harlan handed over a sword hilt, his personal weapon, giving it to Blazkowicz to defeat his enemies.
"I don't think you'll need this either." He pointed to the shield generator with an embedded crystal on his waist: "They probably aren't your match."
Unlike the other Sentinels, Harlan was not cautious about this duel; he had full confidence in Blazkowicz.
This stemmed from an instinctive intuition, as well as a clear understanding of Blazkowicz's abilities.
Blazkowicz nodded, returning a bright smile to this guard who was both a mentor and a friend, took the sword hilt, hung it on his waist, and stepped onto the stage.
Compared to swords, he now desperately wanted to use his bare hands to fiercely tear apart these monstrous beings.
Leaping into the bloody arena, he looked at the hideous demons below, narrowed his eyes slightly, raised his hand, and impatiently said, "Who wants to die first?"
His contemptuous tone sent the eighty-eight greater Bloodthirsters into an uproar, their inner fury completely ignited, and they all twisted their bodies, eager to compete with this young god, favored by the Blood God yet oblivious to his own impending Blazkowicz.
"I'll go!"
The Bloodthirsters conferred with each other, using their internal rules to determine the order of combat.
It spread its bat-like wings and leaped high, like a crimson meteor carrying earth-shattering power, violently smashing into the arena, face to face with Blazkowicz.
"I am…"
The Bloodthirster's enraged and fierce voice was about to announce its name and display its power, but Blazkowicz interrupted it.
"The name of a dying beast? I have no interest in remembering it, nor is it worthy of me to remember!"
His arrogant and majestic voice was full of contempt for the demons, as if stating a fact, regarding the terrifying creature before him as an insect that could be killed at will!
"Blazkowicz! Blazkowicz! Blazkowicz!"
The Sentinels cheered for him, stomping their feet, using the ground as a drum to beat out exhilarating rhythms.
Before even striking, the War Lord's lone aura suppressed the monstrous ferocity of the Bloodthirsters!
"Kill him! Let his blood splatter! Cut off his head and offer it to the Skull Throne!"
The Bloodthirsters were enraged beyond measure, but due to the rules of the arena, they could not go up and fight. They impatiently stomped their bloody hooves, emitting furious war drums, unwilling to concede even a bit in terms of aura.
The demons were unwilling to fall behind, their roars rising and falling, stirring the deepest instincts of living beings and igniting those imprisoned desires for slaughter.
The Sentinels, with unwavering resolve, met their gaze, treating the demons' mental attacks as a trial, suppressing their agitation with reason.
As the two sides on the stage began to fight, the audience below was already engaged in their own back-and-forth, wishing they could use their voices and aura to shake each other to death.
"Prepare!!!!"
Angrath extended his long tongue, his blood-red eyes shining brightly, and excitedly raised his battle-axe, ready to give the command.
A direct confrontation, fair and just! The Blood God must be incredibly excited!
In the arena of skulls and brass, the two extraordinary beings were ready, facing each other, each calculating how to eliminate the other.
"Wait a moment!" A sudden roar interrupted Angrath's excitement: "We don't trust you!"
Angrath's fury surged, and he turned to look at the source of the sound, the human champion in white armor, who was looking at him with distrust.
"The Blood God's servants do not cheat in direct confrontations!"
The eighty-eight Bloodthirsters spoke in unison, their hideous demonic voices strangely clear, expressing distinct disdain and contempt for despicable tactics.
"Human! The Blood God's servants will not bring Him shame! The last Bloodthirster who launched a sneak attack was thrown out of the Blood God's domain by the Blood God, rolling for eight days and eight nights before falling!"
Harlan said nothing, calming his increasingly agitated heart as he approached the demon, holding a physical sword, and walked to Angrath's side, looking up at the Bloodthirster, who was over eight meters tall:
"Let the clash of our blades be the signal!"
Angrath saw a human approaching him without fear and secretly affirmed his courage.
"Alright! Angrath likes your courage! The Blood God likes your proposal; it has ritualistic significance, and gods love rituals!"
Then, with a tacit understanding, the man and the demon swung their weapons, letting the two blades collide!
"Clang!"
The crisp signal sounded, and a battle between man and demon began!
The moment the signal sounded in its ears, the Bloodthirster, who had long been unable to restrain itself, let out a furious roar, raised its arm, flexed its crimson muscles, and swung a long whip covered in barbs with its left hand.
"Snap~"
The Blood God-blessed whip lashed through the air, the piercing sonic boom from the whip's tip accompanied by a soul-shattering power.
The evil long whip, made of brass and leather, whipped out a blood-red phantom. The seemingly limited-length whip extended as it was swung, like a blood python striking at Blazkowicz.
That long whip seemed very strange, entangled with some inexplicable power, but it didn't seem to pose a threat to him.
The moment the Bloodthirster swung the long whip, his body's instincts and brain provided the answer. Blazkowicz's mind completed the threat assessment in picoseconds.
Taking a deep breath, he now needed to release! Release the surging fury within him! The churning hatred!
From the first glance at the demon, something primal in his soul seemed to activate, and an endless wave of disgust washed over him.
To the Bloodthirster's surprise, Blazkowicz extended one hand and grabbed the unpredictable long whip, wrapping it steadily around his arm.
The greater demon's face was filled with wild joy! The Blood God-blessed whip, if it hit someone, would tear out their soul!
The young god before him seemed to be overconfident.
No matter how powerful the physical body, the soul is relatively fragile. Once the soul is stripped in the real universe, even the most powerful being has only one path: death.
A terrifying, triumphant smile appeared on the Bloodthirster's face. Its beast-like, elongated lips parted, revealing jagged, overlapping fangs.
It seemed to see the beautiful scene of the young god's soul being ripped apart and him being ravaged.
The violently red body suddenly exerted force, pulling the long whip backward, intending to pull out the soul and also drag Blazkowicz's body towards it.
The next moment, the greater demon's smile froze. Anger and bewilderment twisted the demon's face, and its furious roar abruptly stopped.
Blazkowicz stood still, feeling the pulling force from the whip, but his heart was filled with doubt: what was with the triumphant smile on the demon's face?
The demon's long whip felt no different from an ordinary whip, just with a few more brass spikes.
"How is this possible!?!?" The Bloodthirster shrieked in surprise. Even the multitude of demons below found it incredible.
Its red body pulled backward, its bloody hooves scraping Mars on the arena, but the person opposite remained motionless!
Looking at the long whip in the young god's hand, and feeling the feedback from the whip, the demon's heart experienced doubt for the first time.
The young god's soul and body were intimately connected, two parts of a seamless whole, inseparable from each other.
Not only his soul, but his body also possessed extraordinary power. Even with the whip pulled taut, he stood there, unshakeable by anyone.
The Bloodthirster felt like an ant, attempting to use the strength of an ant to pull mountains with the long whip in its hand!
"Is that all demons are capable of?" Blazkowicz asked, a look of disappointment on his face.
He had originally thought that an existence capable of eliciting such a reaction from him should be uniquely powerful.
His expression gradually grew cold, and the killing intent in his chest erupted. He instantly unleashed power in his hand, pulling the long whip and dragging the still-stunned demon from a distance!
"I'll kill you!" His arm pulled with sudden force. The low, sharp roar startled the dazed demon awake.
The strength it possessed felt illusory. Its body was pulled by the force from the whip, involuntarily flying towards the young god.
Blazkowicz's killing intent erupted at this moment!
This killing intent was so real, not a false rage provoked by the demon, but a genuine desire to kill, because he wanted to! He wanted to rip and tear this demon to bits!
At this moment, disregarding shame, the Bloodthirster released its grip, allowing Blazkowicz to take the weapon.
It maintained balance in the air, its bat-like wings flapping once, ascending in height to gain a three-dimensional combat advantage.
"Boo!"
The crowd booed. The Bloodthirster's actions were not only despised by the Sentinels but also disdained by its own brethren.
A two-dimensional fight suddenly became three-dimensional. For seasoned warriors or ferocious demons, the advantage gained was incomparable.
Blazkowicz forcefully swung the long whip, his excellent control making its trajectory unpredictable, dazzlingly wrapping around the demon's neck.
"Get down!" With a low shout, his physical strength erupted, and the Bloodthirster in the air plummeted at supersonic speed.
In that dazzling moment, the Bloodthirster gripped the long whip, frantically flapping its wings to struggle, trying to escape its falling fate.
Unfortunately, all its efforts were in vain. Like a dog on a leash, it had no dignity!
An unrivaled, irresistible force ripped it from the air, smashing it heavily onto the ground!
Bang!
Accompanied by a tremor and a wail, the demon's body was like a mosquito hitting steel at high speed.
Rotten flesh and blood burst from its body, its neck snapped at a right angle, its crimson tongue slid from its mouth and twitched, and its powerful body, forged by rage, was now completely fractured, its bloody bat-wings tattered beyond recognition.
From furious to on the verge of death, the entire process took less than three seconds!
"Blazkowicz! Blazkowicz! Blazkowicz!"
The excited roars of the Sentinels celebrated the victory. In their view, the battle was too simple.
The War Lord caught the long whip, a single tug forcing the demon into the air, then using the demon's weapon to entangle the Bloodthirster, pulling hard to smash the demon to the ground, easily securing victory.
"Abominable creatures! You cannot defeat him! What do you have to defeat him?"
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" Harlan removed his helmet, his triumphant expression contorting the scars on his face as he laughed wildly, pointing at the demons with an unbridled taunt, displaying unparalleled mental attack power:
"Despicable things, you dare to be his enemy?"
The demons were all silent, not responding to Harlan's humiliation. Under the Blood God's gaze, the Bloodthirster's defeat was undeniable.
Blazkowicz felt no joy of victory; the anger in his heart had not dissipated in the slightest.
He walked to the dying demon, bent down and pulled its arm, planting his foot on its mighty back. Amidst the astonished gazes of the crowd and the demons, and the demon's anguished wails, he ripped off its left arm, which still clutched the greatsword.
"Die!" Wielding the crimson arm, the demon's bloody greatsword beheaded itself.
Blazkowicz kicked out, sending the demon's head, with its terrified expression, into its chest!
The demon's body exploded, completely losing its life force, and vanished into Mars.
"Roar!"
The Greater Demons howled to the sky, bloodthirsty and cruel! The scene of violent aesthetics made them tremble with excitement!
Not for a moment did they grieve for it. The Blood God tolerated no weakness, and the dead Bloodthirster proved its weakness.
Unlike the Bloodthirster's explosive passion, Blazkowicz felt something unusual.
He clearly felt that as the demon completely died and turned to ash, an essential essence flowed from the demon into his body, strengthening his power somewhat.
It was definitely not an illusion or hallucination; his bodily functions would not lie. Blazkowicz lightly clenched his hand and indeed felt an increase in strength.
It was clear and tangible. Blazkowicz secretly compared it: the increased strength was one percent.
The slain Bloodthirster's form was destroyed in reality, its essence returning to the Warp.
Demons are almost immortal.
When beings in the real universe die, their souls return to the Warp to rest, but demons are different; they are residents of the Warp, their essence belonging to the Warp.
The destruction of their physical form in the real universe merely expels demons, sending them back to the Warp.
The Bloodthirster returned to the Warp, waking up beneath the Skull Throne, feeling an unprecedented weakness.
It could barely maintain its body, staggering and kneeling before Khorne.
"My Lord..."
It was so weak that even the endless rage bestowed by the Blood God had ceased. Praises to the Blood God should have been deafening, demonstrating the power of the Blood God's servants, but now they were too weak to even form.
Khorne sat on the Skull Throne, watching His servant with interest.
The Bloodthirster, its essence damaged, was now extremely frail, kneeling on the ground with its bat-wings spread to cover its body, avoiding the Blood God seeing its weak state.
The Blood God saw deeper. Beyond the Bloodthirster's conventional weakness, a part of its pure essence had vanished, torn apart and completely gone from its concept.
He liked this law: the weak lose everything, and the strong win everything.
His gaze pierced through the Warp, seeing the man standing in the arena. His soul fire burned brighter, and his power grew stronger.
"Plunder?"
Khorne rested one hand on His sword, the other, encased in brass, cupping His cheek. He was thinking.
Is this Blazkowicz's essence?
He had never shown such power; killing numerous Orks by hand did not plunder their essence.
Khorne recalled their first meeting in the Warp, the scene where Blazkowicz's soul burned Tzeentch's palm. He slowly nodded, seemingly understanding something.
An untwistable and uncorruptible purity was his exclusive mysterious essence, and the concepts and qualities contained within that purity were unknown to the gods.
The "plunder" Blazkowicz displayed seemed to be a plunder of demonic essence, just a part of his unknown power.
Realizing this, Khorne's gaze was like a torch, sweeping over the Greater Demon's body, and He discovered another clue.
The brass armor creaked as He sat upright on the Skull Throne, no longer leaning back.
The Bloodthirster before Him had not only had its essential essence plundered, but a part of its true name had also been erased!
This discovery made the Blood God serious. Erasing a demon's true name required a concept that transcended the demon.
A true name is not a demon's designation; it is the name a demon is born with, the truth deeply hidden by the demon.
Demons do not expose their true names; that is their inherent power, but also their fragile weakness.
A demon whose true name is spoken in the real universe will at best be banished, at worst be captured and enslaved by the one who spoke it.
A demon whose true name is erased will completely disappear, vanishing from all timelines—past, present, and future.
The true name is the concept upon which demons depend, and also their only weakness.
Demons hide their true names, then run rampant because their true names are unknown to anyone, and no one can truly harm them.
Only true gods in the world can see through and erase a demon's true name.
Now there appeared an anomaly. He was not a true god, and was even in the real universe. He killed demons in reality, not only plundering their power but also erasing a part of their true name.
He possessed power that made demons fear and true gods wary!
That was a true god's authority, which should not appear in the real universe, but it genuinely existed within Blazkowicz.
Blazkowicz had done it: killed a demon in the real universe and erased a part of its lengthy true name.
Khorne opened His great mouth, exhaling a mist of blood that enveloped the defeated Bloodthirster, refilling its true name.
As for its damaged essence, the Blood God would not help it repair; the plundered essence, it had to reclaim itself.
Then, with a wave of His hand, He cast it out of the Skull Throne's vicinity; the weak were not worthy of appearing before Him.
The Greater Bloodthirster fell onto the bloody wasteland. If it could plunder the essence of other demons and return alive beneath the Skull Throne, the Blood God would re-accept it.
But more often, the weakened Bloodthirster would be targeted by other demons, torn to shreds by swarming demons, and devoured.
The Blood God's gaze returned to the real universe, watching the battle between His servants and His favored demigod.
Blazkowicz was not excited by the increase in power; he remained expressionless, as if crushing an ant, without any excitement or joy.
"Come at me all at once! I'm in a hurry."
Defeating these Bloodthirsters meant he could leave here sooner, and Blazkowicz was anxious.
Every moment, Ennio's established defenses were being assaulted by demons; he had to hurry.
Perhaps sensing Blazkowicz's power, or perhaps due to his invitation, eight Bloodthirsters leaped onto the dueling ground.
To the astonishment of the Sentinels, the dueling arena began to expand, forcing them to retreat to a distance to watch the battle.
Blazkowicz's hand reached for his waist, wanting to draw his longsword for a quick resolution, but he stopped.
Deep down, he always wanted to tear the demons apart alive, to make them feel pain and fear.
"Clang!"
Again, swords clashed, and a new round of battle began under the Blood God's gaze.
Eight Bloodthirsters swarmed forward. Blazkowicz's gaze was like lightning, his figure twisting like a dragon, taking the initiative to attack within the encirclement!
Blazkowicz's speed was at its limit, difficult for the naked eye to catch, with sonic booms constantly echoing.
The sounds were left behind him, the world falling into a delayed silence. The demons' roars and howls couldn't catch up to his movements, nor reach his ears.
The first one!
The Bloodthirster's speed was fast, but Blazkowicz was even faster!
The demon's downward-pressing dive, with its head on the same horizontal plane, gave Blazkowicz the chance to kill it.
Rapidly advancing to the demon's face, in its terrified eyes, Blazkowicz used his palm as a blade. His hand-blade inserted from the lower jaw, piercing the tough skin, breaking through the maxilla, and crushing its fragile brain.
Fiery brain matter erupted like magma from the demon's eyes and nasal cavity. Blazkowicz transformed his palm into a claw, his five fingers suddenly tightening, changing from a stab to a tear, ripping downwards violently!
The tongue, throat, along with the skin of the neck and the demonic organs within the chest cavity, were all torn off. Even that strong and powerful demonic heart was crushed by him!
Suddenly, a gust of wind rose behind his ear, bringing the ripple of tearing air. Blazkowicz simply turned sideways and spun to face the demon.
The instant he dodged the attack, Blazkowicz backhanded and grabbed the demon's forearm.
"Crack!"
A crisp snapping sound rang out; bones transmit sound faster than air. Blazkowicz grabbed the demon's forearm with one hand and struck the demon's joint with his other elbow, breaking its thick arm.
Tearing off the sinews, he bent the weapon tightly held in its hand back, inserting it into the demon's brain, instantly killing the second Bloodthirster.
Power flowed continuously, Blazkowicz's inner rage undiminished, his expression growing colder as he was bathed in demonic blood.
Dodging a demon's swing, then grabbing an incoming long whip, a cold snort echoed in the Bloodthirster's ear.
An unmatched immense force came, and the whip in his hand was already released, wrapping around the leg of another Greater Demon.
With a sudden tug, its legs stretched forward, and its body tilted backward.
Its bat-like wings flapped violently to prevent a fall. Blazkowicz charged between the demon's legs, lifted his foot, and kicked with full force, shattering its hip bone and spine.
Amidst the demon's painful shrieks, he placed his hands on its legs separately, rousing all his strength, and tore them apart!
"Die!!!" The roar in his heart transformed into power!
The Bloodthirster's body was like paper, torn in half by him, and the demonic blood surging in its abdomen erupted.
He didn't stop! Blazkowicz spun to gather strength, throwing the two corpses in his hands, accurately striking two demons.
The terrifying force caused their bodies to collide, muscles crashing together, bones piercing each other's bodies, and the brass armor blessed by the Blood God violently clashing, even merging together!
After dealing with five, a shadow was cast from the sky above, which was ignited by blood and fire. A Greater Demon descended from above, filled with boundless fury.
His gaze remained unchanged. In the nanosecond gap before the greatsword fell, he dodged the attack with a seemingly effortless yet incredibly precise sideways movement.
Failing to hit, the Greater Demon's speed did not decrease as it stooped and rushed past, quickly escaping Blazkowicz's attack range. Yet, in the next instant, its vision uncontrollably shifted.
Looking back, the young god had already grabbed one of its wings, watching it with cold eyes.
Tearing pain came from the base of the wing. The Greater Demon roared and spun. With a violent sense of weightlessness, Blazkowicz lifted it to its highest point and slammed it down!
Only half of the Greater Demon's shattered body remained on the ground; the other half disintegrated and splattered the moment it hit the ground.
Everything happened too fast. Two Bloodthirsters remained on the field.
They wielded their weapons, fearless of death, attacking Blazkowicz from both sides.
An encirclement of eight Greater Demons had been shattered; how could an attack from two Greater Demons defeat him?
They had grown smarter, trying to raise their bodies as much as possible, using their physical advantage to avoid vital points being attacked.
Blazkowicz saw through the Greater Demon's plan, using his speed advantage, and suddenly lunged to the right, beneath the Greater Demon.
He kicked out, hitting its backward-bending demonic knee solidly. Another sound of bone breaking came; Blazkowicz's body was indestructible.
The Greater Demon flapped its wings to maintain balance. Blazkowicz's figure was like an ape climbing a tree, flexibly scaling the Greater Demon's back.
Feeling the vigorously beating demonic heart, he used his hand as a blade, inserting it through the gap in the shoulder blade, grabbing the slippery heart, and crushing it with force.
The demon beneath him slowly fell. Another one charged up, swinging its battle-axe. It wouldn't care about its kin, only wanting to kill the young god.
Blazkowicz's expression remained unchanged, silent as ice.
He embraced the corpse beneath him and exerted force, spinning with the demon's still-lingering corpse, dodging another attack.
When the demon's corpse vanished, he landed steadily and made no further movements, calmly looking at the solitary Bloodthirster.
There were also two severely wounded Greater Demons lying on the ground, their bodies and half-corpses stuck together.
The stage fell silent, and the audience below erupted.
His movements were faster than a whirlwind, his attacks as sharp as a sudden downpour, tearing apart all filth that stood before him!
"Blazkowicz! Blazkowicz! Blazkowicz!"
The Sentinels commander pounded his spear on the ground, shouting his name, his face flushed beneath his helmet, his voice trembling with excitement.
What kind of power was this? What kind of invincibility was this?
A god's demeanor? A War God on Earth? These words felt so powerless at this moment, unable to describe the heroic posture of the man on stage!
For the first time, the Sentinels felt that it would be good if those scholarly civil officials were present; they would surely be able to write the most valiant poems for Blazkowicz and create words that matched him.
The Bloodthirsters fell silent. They had once guarded the borderlands of the Four Gods' domains, and even felt jealousy towards Blazkowicz, not understanding why the Blood God favored him.
Now, seeing that figure standing bathed in demonic blood, they understood everything.
"Blazkowicz! Blazkowicz! Blazkowicz!"
Angrath was the first to let out a roar. The roars of the Bloodthirsters were like thunder, cheering for the true strong one!
"Amazing!"
Behind the curtain, Khorne slammed his fist on the armrest of the Skull Throne. A joyous roar echoed throughout his domain, blowing away the Bloodthirsters who had returned from reality.
The Blood God still filled in their true names, throwing them far away without caring for their lives.
He wished he could tear up the Four Gods' agreement and immediately embrace him, building a special chair for him beside the Skull Throne.
Look at him! He didn't even pant!
Facing eight Bloodthirsters alone, Angrath could do it, Skarbrand could do it, that exile could do it, many powerful Bloodthirsters could do it.
But never so cleanly and swiftly, a bare-handed slaughter, wonderfully pleasing to the eye!
The last Bloodthirster, seeing Blazkowicz's cold, unchanging gaze, subconsciously took a step back, which drew more boos.
It felt the Blood God's displeasure. Under immense pressure, it let out a frantic roar, charging at Blazkowicz recklessly.
Eventually, the demon's legs were broken, and it crawled on the ground. Blazkowicz's combat boot crushed its head.
He also killed the two half-dead Bloodthirsters struggling on the ground, declaring victory in the first round.
"Continue!"
His strong and invigorating voice was now devoid of any emotion, his gaze cold as he looked down at the stage below. There was still a group of Greater Demons waiting to be killed.
He didn't even bother with any unnecessary interaction with them. His inner hostility and hatred remained undiminished; only dead demons were good demons!
Boom! Boom! Boom!!!
Just as the Greater Demons were about to increase their numbers again and swarm forward, the blood pool formed by the knight town boiled once more, and a figure exuding a majestic aura emerged, bathed in blood.
"The Exile!"
Angrath's roar was full of disgust. He raised the battle-axe in his hand, aimed it at the figure emerging from the blood pool, and roared furiously: "Are you going to desecrate the Blood God's glory again?"
As the demonic figure appeared, the Bloodthirsters' rage seemed to find an outlet. They all gripped their weapons, wanting to rush up and tear it apart alive!
Blazkowicz also saw the demonic figure clearly. Although it was tall and strong, its body was covered in scars.
The membrane of its blood-colored bat wings was badly torn, hanging in tatters on the skeleton. Its brass armor was also broken, with several parts missing.
Its head was similar to a Bloodthirster's, yet not entirely the same. Its four demonic horns were larger and more feral, but also severely injured; one horn on the side of its head was broken off.
On its hideous face, one eye glowed with angry red light, while the other eye emitted a blue light. The skin on the side of its blue eye was peeled away, revealing bare white bone.
It shook its head, seemingly very disoriented. It stopped at a distance of eighty-eight paces from the arena and the demon army.
It plunged its two axes into the ground and suddenly knelt. This unexpected action left the humans and demons present somewhat unclear about its intentions.
"I... Skarbrand... the Exile... a sinful body..."
Its voice was hoarse from burning, a painful struggle. Each time it spoke, it swayed its head, trying to stay as clear-headed as possible.
Blazkowicz remained silent. He didn't want any new complications, but reality always placed obstacles on the path forward.
Ennio's reinforcements were blocked by demons, only a few minutes had passed, and another unexpected event occurred.
Skarbrand. He was once the Skull Throne's chief Greater Daemon and Khorne's most favored general.
His twin axes shattered the allied armies of gods, he breached Slaanesh's Sixth Ring, destroyed countless worlds, and crowned the Blood God's name with endless slaughter and destruction.
But one day, Tzeentch noticed this powerful daemon, and he decided to toy with the proud Bloodthirster.
The Lord of Change's whispers echoed in his ears, praising his strength, suggesting that the Bloodthirster's achievements surpassed Khorne's, and that he should replace the Blood God on the Skull Throne.
The Bloodthirster, forged purely from rage, actually believed Tzeentch's words.
During an audience with the Blood God, he took advantage of His distraction and struck Khorne's armor with the blood axe in his hand.
The earth-shattering fury left only an insignificant crack on the god's armor.
His despicable act of betrayal thoroughly enraged Khorne.
The Blood God, eternally seated on the Skull Throne, stood up, leaning on His greatsword, and with one hand, grabbed Skarbrand by the neck and hurled him out of the Blood God's domain.
In the Warp, where there is no concept of time, Skarbrand tumbled through the air for eight days and eight nights, crashing into the boundless wasteland of the Warp, his body plowing a canyon into the ground.
His wings were burned, his armor was tattered, and his body, cast from power and fury, was covered in unhealing wounds due to the Blood God's displeasure.
Even the Bloodthirster's form underwent a fundamental change.
His blood-red eyes, burning with furious flames, no longer held pure rage due to the Lord of Change's interference; one eyeball glowed with a blue light.
Khorne stripped him of his reason, branded him with an unforgivable crime, and he became "the Exiled One."
In the Warp, he ceaselessly unleashed his fury, spreading the Blood God's name, atoning for his sins.
Now Skarbrand had come uninvited, sensing the Blood God's ritual, and took the opportunity to cross into the real universe.
The ecstatic Blood God was observing the real universe, which was a rare opportunity to avoid being expelled back to the Warp the moment he appeared.
He ignored the Bloodthirster's rage and Angrath's warning.
Skarbrand knelt on the ground, struggling to maintain the last vestiges of clarity in his mind, and pleaded with the Blood God on his knees, begging for forgiveness and a return to the Skull Throne.
"Blood God!"
Skarbrand knelt and looked up, eighty-eight meters from the arena, not daring to offend the Blood God's ritual. He knew the Blood God was watching, and His gaze had never left.
The Blood God's gaze was always present; though the Bloodthirsters were angry, they dared not overstep.
If He did not wish to see Skarbrand, a divine decree would have already been issued, expelling the exile.
"My Lord," perhaps it was the god's gaze, Skarbrand's sanity seemed to return somewhat, allowing him to express himself clearly:
"This humble discarded servant dares not hope for forgiveness, only to shed the blood of repentance with this broken body for You."
Skarbrand made no demands, yet it caused Angrath's hand, gripping his weapon, to tighten; he felt the Blood God hesitating.
Pleading would not bring divine favor; pure, selfless devotion, however, might earn a god's regard.
Exiled for countless ages, Skarbrand's broken sanity seemed to have grown smarter?
"I have no interest in your grievances, those redemptions and pardons." Blazkowicz stood on the stage, interrupting the communication between daemon and god. He only wanted to finish the duel and leave:
"Hurry up, the duel continues."
"Cough! Cough! Cough! Cough!"
A coughing-like laugh came from the blood clouds and blood pool, intensely familiar to Blazkowicz, confirming it was the "God of War" within the crimson space.
Blazkowicz recalled his ignorant childhood—when he asked his mother about the faith of the City of Truth, she squatted down, her gentle face suddenly becoming serious.
"Gods are false lies! And so is faith!"
At this moment, Blazkowicz wholeheartedly agreed.
Gods truly are liars! What God of War? Clearly, it's the Blood God worshipped by daemons!
The sky of burning blood clouds was torn by an armored giant claw, and angry blood-red lightning surged from the crack, the blood in the blood pool began to burn, turning into scorching magma, and a vast divine power descended.
The Sentinels gripped their spears to support themselves, preventing themselves from kneeling, while simultaneously sealing their minds and five senses, like standing corpses, not daring to accept any external information.
Harlan, usually unrestrained, now closed his eyes tightly, muttering the Warrior's Law under his breath, constantly fighting against the uncontrollable rage within him, in the surging, scorching blood.
A magnificent voice came from the void, and the Greater Bloodthirster knelt, his bat-like wings folded, trembling.
The real universe is different from the Warp.
In the Warp, Bloodthirster daemons are at their peak, able to face divine power directly without fear of being dispersed by it.
Divine power is also suppressed in the real universe, but the Bloodthirster is suppressed even more; the difference in their ranks and concepts is immense.
The divine power emanating from the Blood God's words caused the Bloodthirster's body to disintegrate like grains of sand, gradually becoming unable to maintain its form in the real universe.
Only Blazkowicz remained on the field, his expression normal, standing perfectly straight and gazing up at the void, his sharp eyes scrutinizing the existence of the god.
"As you wish!"
The magnificent voice was as vast as the firmament, rumbling and causing the void to tremble, it was unclear if it was answering Blazkowicz or Skarbrand.
Or perhaps it agreed with both?
As His voice fell, the current chief Greater Daemon, Angrath, transformed into a streak of blood-light and returned to the void, leaving the real universe.
The other Bloodthirsters, under the Blood God's pressure, exploded into blood mist, merging into Skarbrand's body.
The Blood God agreed to Blazkowicz's suggestion of a quick battle and also promised Skarbrand a chance.
A chance to defeat Blazkowicz and prove himself still useful.
In the swirling blood mist, Skarbrand greedily devoured the energy of his kin. His broken body was gradually reshaped, and his sanity and power returned.
His eyes gradually narrowed; Blazkowicz felt a threat surging from the blood mist.
That broken daemon seemed to have been given an opportunity by its master; the god had even injected the power of the Bloodthirsters into his body.
When he first appeared, Blazkowicz was certain he could defeat him, but now, the unified Bloodthirster made him feel a danger he had never experienced before.
"Hmph! Hmph! Hmph..."
The daemon's snickering was no longer painful; his voice was unrestrained and wild.
The Blood God had given him a chance; if Skarbrand defeated the young god before him, he could return to the Skull Throne.
Khorne loved Blazkowicz, but he also didn't mind killing him. Only the strong were worthy of divine favor; Khorne was the embodiment of conflict, and eliminating the weak was His nature.
The daemon absorbed all the blood mist, wielded two great axes, and spread his wings with overwhelming daemonic might, his shadow obscuring the burning sky.
Blazkowicz took the hilt from his waist and extended the blade. He said nothing, his expression serious, staring coldly at the re-formed monstrous beast.
From the bone handles of those two primitive great axes, he felt the aura of the Bloodthirsters; two fierce weapons infused with two Bloodthirsters, their smooth blades filled with hatred and greed.
Skarbrand walked into the arena, his eight-meter-tall body crimson and muscular, even more imposing than other Bloodthirsters.
He felt the Blood God's blessing, the power of dozens of Bloodthirsters surging within his body, constantly clamoring for the release of slaughter.
"Skarbrand!"
His self-introduction received no response. Skarbrand looked, and in the young god's eyes, there was only a resolute determination to win and a hateful killing intent.
No more words were needed now; the killing intent had arrived!
"Roar!"
Accompanied by a bloodthirsty roar, every cell of Skarbrand screamed, the resolve in his voice equally firm.
"Clang!!!!"
The clash of sword and axe, the piercing sound of impact, formed a visible shockwave!
Neither side could lose, nor did they have any reason to lose!
Behind the curtain, Angrath returned to the Skull Throne, guarding the Blood God, watching the earth-shattering duel together, amazed by the power of both sides.
Blood spurted!
Both sides, in the weapon clash's momentary standstill, were injured by the other's immense strength; their web-between-thumb-and-forefinger were torn, and the skin on the back of their hands and forearms, gripping their weapons, cracked, and capillaries burst.
The flowing blood made Skarbrand roar in excitement; the Blood God's blessing made him ignore the pain, and he continued to wield his daemonic weapons, fully immersing himself in the battle.
Blazkowicz was expressionless, parrying the daemon's great axe with his sword, and the tiny wounds on his hand immediately healed.
He felt no excitement, only a cold rage against the daemon surging in his chest.