Aside from daily training, combat missions, and prayers to the gods, what is the other vital component of an Astartes' life?
The answer: The Dueling Cage.
Whether one wishes to foster a friendship or settle a blood-feud, the dueling cage provides the perfect arena, manifesting the truth in the simple, stark clarity of victory and defeat. For this reason, it is beloved by all Astartes.
Loyalist and traitor alike.
Enkidu handed the chest of Soulstones to Armand, seating him at the referee's bench. He then stripped off his upper armor and stepped into the pit, wielding a tungsten-steel practice sword coated in a paralytic toxin.
Due to the warband's shortage of stimulants and hallucinogens, most veterans had opted to rest to conserve their chemical reserves. Since Enkidu hadn't notified the initiates in advance, the spectator stands were empty. Beneath the harsh lumin-strips, there were only he and Telax.
And Armand, watching from above.
Enkidu rolled his wrists, allowing psychic energy to ripple beneath his skin, flushing out the ntal fatigue from his earlier confrontation with Varex. Within four seconds, he had returned to his peak state.
He balanced the tungsten sword, feeling the subtle shift of its center of gravity, then flourished the blade toward Telax.
"How do you want to play this?"
"You called the duel. We play it your way—even to the death, if that's what you want."
"Death isn't necessary." Enkidu felt Telax was being a bit extre. Why was it always a death-match with him? He wasn't a World Eater, and their grievances weren't irreconcilable. "First blood or second blood. Just a way to vent your 'frustration'."
"I am not—frus—trated—"
"Fine, second blood then."
Enkidu spoke no further, for Telax had already lunged with his blade, utilizing the very combat forms he had taught the boy. Almost without thinking, Enkidu parried the strike outward and raised his left hand, catching the veteran's incoming punch mid-air.
The whistle of a low kick cut through the air; Enkidu shifted his palm from a catch to a press, vaulting into the air. His sword-tip traced a semi-circle in the void, aiming for the back of his opponent's neck, exposed by the montum of the charge.
In less than half a heartbeat, Telax threw himself forward in an ungraceful roll, his blade pointed upward at the mid-air target. Enkidu let out a soft huff as his blade t Telax's in a sophisticated arc, producing the first sharp clang of clashing tal.
Zero point zero one seconds later, the two had swapped positions. Neither had found a breach in the other's guard.
"Hmph. You think those flourishes will work on ?" the Chaos veteran challenged. Over the years, Enkidu's progress had been teoric, especially in swordsmanship—his style even reminded Telax of the Palatine Blades of the old Legion. But a veteran's pride wouldn't allow him to show weakness to a whelp. "How many xenos have you slain? How many worlds have you broken? You dare show off before ?"
"Strictly speaking, only two types of xenos: the Aeldari, and that purple breed we found on the Lash of Agony. As for worlds, since I woke up here, I haven't set foot on solid ground." Enkidu thodically dismantled the veteran's strikes, while subtly loosening his defense to lure Telax into overconfidence. "In terms of seniority, I am far beneath you. If there's an opportunity, I'd still like to hear of the Great Crusade—how you fought those xenos coalitions, how the Phoenician conquered a world with only a handful of n, and the grand triumph at Ullanor."
A genuine wave of nostalgia rose within Telax. He missed the days when the Legion rode the sea of stars, scouring the xenos from existence; he missed the ti when the Phoenician was still among them. No matter how many tis he told the stories, he could repeat them once more, just to let these young junkies know how glorious the past truly was.
"You could never imagine it. The Phoenician was—"
CLANG!
A piercing screech erupted as the two blades locked together. Near the hilts, the steel ground against each other, throwing out a shower of sparks. Enkidu deftly rotated his blade; the tungsten steel vibrated with a low hum as the tip danced through the air, slapping hard against Telax's forearm and carving a thin red line.
First blood.
"Your sword is always so easy to read."
The toxin began to flow against his pulse, bringing a slight dizziness. Telax lost his footing in the struggle and retreated half a step. He shook his head, hearing the second half of his opponent's sentence.
"Just like you."
"A sword does not represent the whole of a man." Telax gritted his teeth and stood firm, his engineered Oolitic Kidney working to break down the toxins, giving him the resolve to continue.
"But it represents the most important part. I have always believed that whether an Astartes realizes it or not, his core essence is revealed in his martial skill."
"Then what is your core?" Telax unleashed a flurry of strikes. The two clashed dozens of tis in quick succession, neither gaining the upper hand. "Your style is completely formless."
"I don't know," Enkidu answered. His weapon whistled past Telax's scalp. Though the practice sword was unsharpened, the sheer wind of its passage sheared off a lock of the veteran's hair. "But regardless, it won't be sothing false."
"Falsehood is everywhere among brothers. How can I be sure of your essence?"
Telax spotted an opening and lunged his toxin-coated tip toward Enkidu's shoulder. However, the recruit reacted instantly, drifting backward before the edge could bite, leaving behind only a few strands of hair. Telax clicked his tongue in regret and began to reset his stance—then he realized that beneath the lumin-strips, the tip of Enkidu's sword was vibrating in a minute, rapid pattern, tracing a series of fleeting High Gothic runes in the air.
[Varex wants to kill you. Also, there is a discrepancy in Morpheus's death. Soone other than you, , or Varex stole the chemicals.]
Telax stared at the script, nearly forgetting he was in a duel.
Damnation. A third party had intervened in his struggle with Varex, and he had no idea who! If that person's goal was to sow discord, then congratulations—they had succeeded! His conflict with Varex was now unavoidable. Once Varex was dead, he would find that skulking rat and tear it to shreds!
"Don't lose focus during a duel. You taught that."
Enkidu moved behind him with an elegant sidestep and delivered a clean strike.
Second blood.
Telax staggered forward two steps as the cold numbness of the paralytic spread from the wound. He looked up to see the do of the dueling cage closing before his eyes, as if it couldn't bear to watch his performance.
The world plunged into darkness.
Forty-four seconds later, he opened his eyes to find himself lying on the deck, with Enkidu and Armand standing over him.
"How do you feel? Do you need the antitoxin?"
The young Astartes was drying his hair with a towel, extending a hand toward him.
"I'm fine. Keep the antitoxin for yourself. And you actually didn't kill while I was down?"
"How could I? You will always be my ntor and my brother."
"I doubt you'll rember that for long."
The Chaos veteran grumbled, but he took Enkidu's hand and hauled himself up from the deck.
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