Warhammer 40k : Terrabyte Chapter 122: Fist

The atmosphere in the arena grew heavy once more.

The absurdity brought by the advertisents and trash talk quickly faded, replaced by an almost palpable sense of oppression. The mountain-and-sea-like roar of the crowd seed to be slowly pressed down by an invisible hand, gradually quieting until the last echo vanished beneath the towering do of the abandoned factory.

All was silent.

In this oppressive silence, all eyes focused on the two steel giants in the center of the arena.

"Recruit, where is your weapon?" Rivers spoke first, his deep voice remarkably clear in the stillness. "Don't tell you forgot it."

"My fists are my weapons," Caleb replied, his voice steady and firm.

"Oh," Rivers raised an eyebrow slightly. He quickly ca up with a reasonable answer based on his worldview. "You're good with Power Fists, are you?"

"Uh... sothing like that," Caleb didn't bother to explain. Besides, from the outco, this answer was about seventy to eighty percent accurate.

"That's quite rare then," Rivers said, his tone carrying a hint of an old veteran scrutinizing a new recruit. After all, to master a weapon like the Power Fist was far more difficult than a chainsword or Power Sword, let alone for a new recruit.

The conversation stopped again, and silence once more enveloped the training ground.

"Ready?" he called out, his tone dripping with nace. "I'm coming to attack."

Caleb remained motionless, his expression carved from stone. His eyes didn't even flicker. When he spoke, his voice was quiet—dangerously quiet.

"Attack if you want to attack," Caleb said flatly. "What's the point of specifically warning ?"

A low, rumbling chuckle emanated from Rivers' chest. It grew louder, more intense—becoming a full, bellowing laugh that echoed across the wasteland. His shoulders shook with the weight of his own confidence.

"Heh heh heh..." The laughter finally subsided, replaced by sothing far more sinister. Rivers' eyes blazed with an otherworldly intensity. "That's because... I'm absolutely certain of my victory!"

Before he finished speaking, he moved!

"Thump!"

His Power Boots stomped heavily, and the solid ground instantly cracked. Rivers' figure transford into a gray-blue afterimage, and he lunged forward like an enraged Fenrisian wolf, carrying a ferocious montum that seed to rip everything apart! Although the chainsword in his hand was not activated, it still emitted a harsh roar as it cut through the air, carving a trajectory of death.

Facing this thunderous strike, Caleb made an unexpected move.

"Hey!"

With a strange cry from him, his previously steady stance instantly changed. At the sa ti, crimson flas appeared out of nowhere, like living fire snakes, instantly coiling around his wrists and ankles!

"Psykic power?" Rivers' expression changed slightly.

"Psykic power!" Krona's expression drastically changed.

"Psykic power?!" Herbert's expression greatly changed.

However, Caleb's movents did not falter in the slightest. He fearlessly t the roaring chainsword, throwing a punch! The fist, wrapped in crimson Dragon Fla, collided head-on with its blade!

"Clang—!"

A deafening clang of tal rang out, sparks flying everywhere, and he actually held his own!

"No, it's not Psykic power," Rivers, who had personally experienced the power of this punch, made his judgnt almost at the mont of impact. He thought to himself, "Neither the ground nor the chainsword that directly contacted his fist showed any trace of frost.

If it were Psykic power, then he would clearly be a Psykic master with exquisite control, with no energy leaking out. But considering his identity as an astartes recruit, this speculation is too absurd."

"No, it's not Psykic power," Krona, who was off the field, also made a judgnt based on his keen intuition for warp energy. "I didn't sll that nauseating stench, only a pure passion, hot like a forge fire... This kid is interesting."

"No, it's not Psykic power," even Inquisitor Herbert made the sa judgnt. "There's no fluctuation in the warp; I couldn't possibly not feel it at this distance. Even if I couldn't feel it, Ugo couldn't possibly not know; it's a native warp daemon scum...

But this anomaly must be investigated! I need to find a way to bypass these damn Space Wolves and contact them individually, or simply infiltrate their rooms..."

"So that's it," Rivers, who felt he had figured out the key, said in a deep voice. "Is this what you rely on... I didn't expect your Chapter to possess a special non-Psykic power similar to our Fenrisian runes."

"Your Fenrisian runes aren't Psykic power?" Caleb asked, squinting his eyes while maintaining his punching stance.

"Do not make conclusions because you do not understand Fenris!" Rivers imdiately glared. "Our runes are certainly not Psykic power! The frost effect is only due to Fenris' climate and our long-standing traditional culture!"

"Uh, alright, my bad," Caleb decisively chose to admit his mistake, avoiding a aningless argunt.

"Why did you summon the flas in advance?" Rivers shifted the topic, with a hint of curiosity in his tone. "A seemingly ordinary punch, suddenly summoning them just before contacting the enemy, would be more surprising and threatening, wouldn't it?"

"Firstly, this is called Dragon Fla, and it's not the sa as ordinary flas," Caleb corrected him earnestly, then sighed, "Secondly... alas, I wish I could do as you say. But I can only learn this much for now. If I want to improve, I have to figure it out myself..."

"You just told that directly?" Rivers was sowhat surprised.

"What else could I do?" Caleb said. "This kind of information, if you're not stupid, you'd pretty much figure it out after a couple of probes. Since that's the case, it's better to just say it directly and make seem more straightforward."

Rivers let out a hearty laugh, his laughter echoing in the silent training ground, full of the unrestrained boldness characteristic of the Sons of Fenris.

"Good! I like you, kid! Straightforward!" He drew a shallow line on the ground with the tip of his chainsword, as if marking the boundaries for the upcoming battle. "Since that's the case, I'll tell you directly too—the probing is over, I'm getting serious!"

The mont his words fell, his entire deanor changed completely.

If Rivers just now was an adult wolf scrutinizing its prey, then at this mont, he was a Fenrisian Thunderwolf in hunting mode, baring its fangs. He slightly bent his body, the joints of his Power Armor making subtle adjustnt sounds, and his entire being was like a giant bow drawn to its full extent, every armor plate concealing terrifying power about to erupt.

Caleb's internal alarm bells rang loudly. He dared not be negligent in the slightest; the Dragon Fla on his fists burned even more fiercely, scorching the air around him into a slight distortion.

The battle was about to begin!

"Roar!"

With a wolf-like battle cry, Rivers moved. He did not choose a linear charge but approached at high speed in a strange zigzag trajectory, his Power Boots treading dazzling steps on the ground, like a pack of wolves chasing prey in the snow.