Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Dueling is an art, and confrontation is a very important part of it.

In the history of mankind, there have been many ways to duel, and it can even be said that there are a lot of them. From wearing tight lace tops and fighting each other with rapiers for the one you love, to two cowboys in the wild west standing still facing each other, competing for willpower and aiming skills under the scorching sun...

You have to admit, humans are just pretty good at killing each other. Of course, they are also very good at killing aliens.

Mortarion stood in front of his adoptive father, whose face and even form were shrouded in darkness, and the heavy oppressive feeling was almost suffocating.

The primarch could feel the pressure too, and he gripped his scythe tightly, without saying a word. Coincidentally, his adoptive father also had a sickle in his hand.

It's just that his weapons are farm tools. And what the Witch King holds is out-and-out, a weapon specially used for killing. Its blade is so sharp that one dare not look directly at it, and there is a dark green flame burning quietly at the end of the handle.

The Witch King's voice was heavy, but also very calm: "Kneel down now and beg me for mercy, and I will forgive your stupidity and your daring to go down the mountain to mingle with those lowly creatures."

"No."

When the words of refusal were spoken, two dark green flames suddenly lit up on the face of the Witch King shrouded in darkness. It snorted coldly, and the mountain-like pressure fell on Mortarion's shoulders in an instant.

He began to stagger, gasping for breath, but still forced himself to stand still. His willpower transcended the limitations of his body, and something older than himself began to rise from the bottom of his heart.

Why?

Why can you overlook all this from a high place, why should they let you slaughter them? Why do you dare to be so arrogant? You are nothing but a monster! You are not worth mentioning, you deserve to be trampled on, you don't deserve to wear a crown!

Out of nowhere, this rage made the Primarch stand—even straight, he would never kneel.

no way.

"Resistance is futile, son of death. I can forgive you for going astray, and I can forgive you for being stupid enough to resist me. Because I see your potential, my son."

"If you were willing to accept my teachings wholeheartedly and use that knowledge, you would have surpassed me a few years ago. If you hadn't stubbornly refused, you could easily crush me into powder under your feet now. How, Do you regret it, Son of Death?"

"I only regret why I didn't kill you before I left.

"

The Witch King laughed, and the laughter was like a dead man poking his head out of a coffin, eating his own tombstone. When their dry gums and loose teeth rubbed against the stone tombstones, they probably made this kind of sound.

"Your innocence is simply beyond my expectation. Don't you know your own talent, Mortarion? If you are willing to sacrifice those lower creatures and use their life essence to strengthen yourself, you may even In ten years, you will surpass all witchcraft overlords who have ever lived, and your power will be stronger than anyone imagined——!"

The Witch King growled, with a palpable jealousy in his voice.

"But your stupidity and short-sightedness have ruined everything! You would rather mingle with those lower creatures than learn my knowledge and give me your allegiance! We could have had countless worlds, countless Babarus !"

"Making countless worlds scream in agony under your witchcraft?"

The Primarch shook his head with difficulty: "I'm not stupid, nor short-sighted. I just know what you are, so I don't want to accept those things. You are a monster, that's all, and I am not, I am a human being."

"Humans can't do what you can. Open your eyes and see, Mortarion, you are already a monster." The Witch King said coldly. "Now, to die."

The primarch gripped his scythe in silence.

-----------------

"Will he win?" Vulcan asked worriedly.

"He won," said Angron. "Unfortunately, he never told us any specific details about the fight."

The envoy of Jinyan nodded: "But he once showed the scars on his body, that thing, left him with wounds that could not heal. But he won, he said it himself - and it was by beheading."

A smile emerged from Lorgar Aurelion's face: "...frankly, I'm proud of him."

"That is to say—he killed the alien alone."

Conrad Coates whistled, "Wow."

Sanguinius glared at him tensely, and made up his mind that if the Lord of the Night didn't restrain himself, he and Vulcan would sit beside him.

The Lord of Death sighed.

"I know what you're trying to say, Conrad," he said lowly. "Yes, I lost, and he won. I went to the mountain in full armor, didn't encounter any attacks, but was poisoned and fell to the ground a few seconds after the battle started. And he..."

He closed his eyes, pressed the dagger close to his chin, and slid it gently, feeling the coldness through the bandage: "I know he will win."

"You know?" Horus asked puzzled.

"I can see that." Mortarion didn't explain further, just shook his head.

Of course he would not say that he felt that the person in the picture was completely different from himself at the time. He can admit it, but he will never say it, otherwise it will be tantamount to admitting his failure again. He had already admitted it to the black-robed mage once, and he didn't want to do it again...

At least not now.

"But, frankly, I still don't know how he's going to win." Guilliman shook his head. "Even if it's a projection, I can still perceive the terrifying psionic energy on that alien..."

He looked at Magnus, just in time to lead the eyes of the others. Magnus was shocked, and immediately lifted the book to cover the lower half of his face. His reaction left many speechless, not least Leon El'Jonson.

The Lion frowned. "What's the matter with you, Magnus? You're a Primarch, and we're not here to discuss your mistakes—put that book down!"

"...I, I...Okay."

Magnus put the book down in frustration, but kept his head down nonetheless. He whispered: "In fact, psionic power is not the most important factor, its witchcraft is the most terrifying. Those poisonous fog and monsters exist only through its power, so, no matter what, this battle will It was tough..."

"Then let's continue."

Fulgrim nodded calmly: "I just want to see this thing that calls humans with a disparaging name die immediately."

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