Ferus Manus had only some vague impressions of such a building as the Legion Station. Unlike other primitives, he has a special affection for his home planet, and he doesn't even think about unifying his home planet, Medusa.

Upon his return to the Empire, he quickly plunged into war and conquest, and throughout the Great Expedition, the Iron Hand was at the forefront of the expedition, and their fleets were not permanently stationed on a planet if they needed supplies.

But he still has some basic common sense about it, and it comes from Vograim.

He knew what it would be for a legionary garrison to meet the standards of etiquette, such as at least five training halls, more than ten armament rooms, large tactical conference rooms, and a huge living room for the genetic protogens individually.

Undoubtedly, the last item is an unnecessary luxury, which the Empire values considerably. Fogrem used to have strict standards for his living room, and if that didn't suit him, he wouldn't even live in it.

Now, the room in front of Ferus Manus had no furniture in the standard sense of the word, and it looked like a small, private training room.

The ground and walls were littered with sword marks, thirty or so dismantled fighter servants were thrown in a corner, and the Chemos themselves were wielding two training swords that had been blunted and were torturing a training doll made of adamantite gold.

In Ferus Manus's opinion, he is not training. The training requires combat, and at least 80 percent of the actual combat must be simulated. Training requires bloodshed, because war requires death.

Fogham was simply swinging his sword, torturing the Adamantite doll and turning its surface into a pithole. Of course, he knew about the arrival of the Iron Hand, but he did not choose to stop or say hello, so Ferus Manus chose to remain silent.

He began to turn his head to observe every detail in the room, such as a dozen training shirts that had been thrown on the floor and thoroughly soaked with sweat. Or a few data boards, and stacks of files that are about two meters high.

From these things, Ferrus knew that he was afraid that Fogrem had really been living in this room for a long time.

He frowned, and finally opened his mouth in a completely unbearable manner.

"You need a real sparring partner to let go of that Adamantite doll. It should be forged into weapons or armor, not to endure your torture here. ”

"I didn't torture it, Ferrus." Fogrem said.

He still had his back to the iron hands, his long hair draped over his shoulders disheveled, already wet with sweat. He still looked strong and agile, but for some reason he seemed a little inhuman.

"It's not going to fight back." Iron Hand frowned and said. "If you continue to swing your sword like this, it can withstand many attacks until it is completely reduced to a mass of steel that needs to be remelted."

"Interesting." Phoenix chuckled, but still didn't turn around, just slowly raised her hands.

The two blunt swords were raised high by him, and then two cold rays of light fell almost completely. The air shook, and a tooth-aching sound of metal twisting followed. The Adamantite doll split into three and flew upside down, inlaid tightly into the wall.

Debris fell, creating a chaotic sound on the metal floor. The phoenix let go of his hand, letting the two blunt swords fall to the ground.

Ferus Manus could clearly see that they were burning—the metal was beginning to turn into ashes drifting in the wind, and in the fading light of the fire, the two blunt swords became pure nothingness.

"It's not going to fight back, listen to yourself, Gorgon."

The phoenix slowly raised his hand and tied his white hair with a rag from nowhere. Ferrus was familiar with the move, and he probably knew what Fogrem was going to do next.

"What? Do you want to be my opponent? Sure enough, Phoenix raised an eyebrow, asked a slightly frivolous question, and issued a challenge.

Ferus Manus's expression became a little gloomy, the world-famous furnace breaker was not in his hands at the moment - he did not choose to wear a weapon, although he could, even if it was the palace.

But he didn't say anything, just watched as Fogham gracefully turned around and bowed to him.

The Chermoth, once surrounded by a pearlescent light, are now completely surrounded by scars, and the body of the genogen heals all wounds, and in general, no scars remain on their bodies. Unless they themselves want to.

Like the 'proof of victory' that Angron of Nucaria kept for himself, Vogrim now has his own scars.

But they are not proof of victory, but names, densely packed names. Right hand, left hand, chest. and are following the breath of their masters.

Ferus Manus's expression began to grow more and more serious—he knew the names, and the composition of the Emperor's Son had never been a secret to him.

"How, Gorgon?" Vogrim asked. "I'm worried that I don't have a suitable opponent to test my current strength, will you accept this challenge?"

"You're not armor-piercing." Ferrus said. "And there are no weapons."

"Oh, no, it's not." Phoenix grinned slowly, a smile that was very different from the reserved smile he had in his past. "I don't need weapons, dear Gorgon."

His lowered hands slowly raised, as if he were holding a sword blade, and a burning sound flashed through the air, and then a pitch-black shadow, and a burning giant sword appeared in the phoenix's hand beyond reality.

It's pitch black, but it's a dull red inside, like dried blood. Fogrem let go of his left hand, put his back behind his back, and bowed gracefully, and the flame on his blade was abruptly extinguished.

Ferrus was keenly aware of the difference between burning and extinguishing, and the distinction made him frown a little irritated.

"I'm a weapon in my own right." Vogrim said slowly.

Of course, he noticed Ferus's mood - but, how to say it? He did it on purpose.

Ferus Manus silently raised his hands, and a shadow enveloped him, and in the fragments of perception that were too short to even speak of time, Medusa of Gorgon, with his extraordinary powers of observation, saw a greatsword that had been slashed off from his head.

A loud bang followed, and Iron Hand clamped the greatsword with both hands. Fogrem looked at him with a smile across the blade, dead silence in his dark red eyes.

"Your eyes."

"Their colors are very flattering to me." The phoenix laughed and drew his greatsword, spun his wrist, and with one step, he struck Ferus's breastplate with the hilt.

The iron hand dodged calmly, swinging his right elbow dangerously, striking the spine of the greatsword with precision, followed by his left fist. This series of movements was as swift as instinct, but Fogrem had expected to dodge it.

He stepped back and returned to the Greatsword's advantageous zone, and he raised his hands and began to gently taunt his brother, who was not good at words.

"It's still the same old thing, Ferrus? It's time for you to learn something new. ”

"Learn what?" Ferrus sneered as he strode forward.

The speed and force were so strong that it was almost suspicious, as if he were a humanoid tank charging.

"Learn from you?"

"I'm okay with that." Phoenix said.

Although he said this, his expression did not look approving.

He turned the greatsword sideways, causing it to rise from the bottom up. The sword seemed unremarkable, but it stopped Ferus in his path. If Iron Hand continues to charge, the end result can only be pointed at the face door or breastplate by the greatsword.

They have a tacit understanding that even if they haven't communicated, they know when to end and judge who the winner is. After all, something like this has happened thousands of times, and it's hard to think even if you don't have a tacit understanding.

Ferrus had to change his strategy, he frowned, slowed down, and began to wrestle with Fogham. Every step is taken with great care. He had to be so, there was no way.

It is almost impossible for an unarmed man to defeat a man with a long blade unless a miracle happens, but Ferus does not point out the unfairness in this fight.

He just did his wait smoothly and patiently, and Fogham raised an eyebrow, looking a little surprised.

"Aren't you going to attack first?" He raised his sword and asked.

"I'm not Riemann Russ, and I'm determined to wrestle with Vulcan." Ferrus replied with a stiff face. "Playing to one's strengths and avoiding weaknesses is a must-have quality for any tactician."

"So—" Fogham lowered his sword and took a step in a not-so-common starting hand. "—I'm going on the offensive."

"Come on." Ferus said, a cold glint in his eyes.

His conqueror's nature and competitiveness worked again, and he knew that so did Fogham.

Although those burning pupils could no longer allow him to dig out the subtle emotions as before, he knew his brother, and there was no other person in the world who had such a tacit understanding as theirs.

The phoenix smiled silently but with relief, and he rushed towards him, the greatsword slashing out without reservation. Almost at the same moment, Ferus Manus also raised his hands.

His power was so pure that one almost suspected that it was not flesh and blood that existed in his body, but a powerful engine. The greatsword was stopped again, and this time it was not successfully recovered.

Ferus began to throw punches violently, his left hand grappling the greatsword's bar, and his right fist kept swinging. The whistling wind is completely beyond common sense, even if it is a phoenix.

"Are you going to break my nose, brother?" He asked in a loud voice as he dodged.

"If you can." Ferus replied coldly.

"That's rude." Fogrem said, and let go of his hand.

He didn't try to fight Ferus for control of the greatsword, and instead of staying in Ferus's hands, it quickly fell into nothingness like a fading flame.

Iron Hand wasn't surprised, but the escape of the wrestling object allowed his own power to work on himself for a moment, which created an opportunity for Vogrim's next attack.

He grabbed Ferus' right hand and pulled it to the other side, while forcing Ferus a few steps away from him with a shoulder strike. As Iron Hand stood firm and prepared to continue the fight, a greatsword suddenly landed on his throat.

Ferus narrowed his eyes.

"You're losing." Phoenix announced with a smile.

"You're cheating." Gorgon replied solemnly, and although he was arguing about the outcome, there was nothing in his tone that would not admit defeat. On the contrary, he even appeared calm.

"It's fun to fight when it's not fair." Fogrem shrugged. "Evenly matched is just boring – what do you think of that? I learned this from our enemies. ”

"Who?" Ferrus asked. "Horus Lupecar?"

"Nope." The phoenix sighed and withdrew the greatsword, and this time, he really let go of his hand, completely letting it dissipate into the air.

"Horus is dead, he is not an enemy, brother, he will never be an enemy. The real enemy, or rather, the enemy. Exist in the heavens. ”

"Heavenly?"

"Yes, heavenly." Phoenix replied calmly. "The 'heaven' in ordinary people's cognition, heaven, the place where the gods live. Or rather, subspace. ”

Ferus was silent for a while, and suddenly looked a little annoyed: "If I knew this was the case, maybe I should have rushed back early." ”

"It's useless, Gorgon." Phoenix walked slowly past him, slouched to a corner, and began to look through the pile of papers for what he needed.

"Even if you were there, you wouldn't be able to beat that thing. It's not as powerful as ours, and if you want to kill an enemy, you'll need to pull the trigger or have the Furnace Breaker smash someone's head. It's different, it only takes a thought, or a word, and we're going to die in pieces. ”

"Is this a metaphor, or is it reality?"

"It's reality." Phoenix said. "The Vengeful Spirit is no longer the flagship we are familiar with, it is now a more terrifying place. There, it can do whatever it wants. I see it all, Ferrus. ”

Fogham paused, he stopped rummaging through the papers, put his hands on top of the heavy papers, and his voice became muffled instead of relaxed.

"I see it distorting reality, turning the impossible into possibility, changing the universe we live in into a nightmare."

"I don't believe there's anything in this world that can't be killed." Ferus Manus replied dryly. "I'll get you a set of power armor, and then we'll talk about it."

Fogham was slightly stunned, he turned his head sideways and nodded slowly. There was a smile on his face, very clear, very peaceful.

"Yes, Ferus." He replied softly.

This chapter is 4k, and there is a pinch in one more chapter.

(End of chapter)