Datch's words were extremely arrogant. Under normal circumstances, Perturabo would have flown into a rage and started shouting.
This time, however, he was unusually honest.
That small star, compressed to the size of a basketball, had completely shattered his confidence.
Even if he considered himself to possess extraordinary wisdom, he had no confidence left to argue right and wrong with someone who could casually summon a sun.
Dammekos, who had been sitting on the throne with an air of superiority, no longer had the courage to remain seated. He quietly stood up.
His forehead, under the iron-pine leaves of his crown, was already covered in fine beads of sweat.
During his long years in power, he had seen many self-proclaimed geniuses and frauds come to this palace.
Their schemes had always been exposed by Perturabo, and they had left in disgrace.
He had thought these two outsiders would meet the same fate.
Who could have imagined that the other party actually possessed such overwhelming power—that with a mere flick of the wrist, they could summon a sun?
If they wished, a single casual gesture could destroy the city-state of Lochos, or even the entire planet of Olympia.
Provoking them would be disastrous. They absolutely could not be touched.
This was no longer the realm of humans. This was the power of gods. Only a true god could wield such power.
Standing beside Dammekos, Calliphone frowned with worry.
She was Perturabo's foster sister. Her gentle, beautiful face now showed clear concern.
She knew Perturabo's personality well. Though mature beyond his years, he was excessively proud and delicate. He called himself steel, yet his inner self was unbelievably fragile.
She was worried that these two outsiders would push him to the brink mentally.
His other foster siblings also wore worried expressions.
They were not particularly close to Perturabo, for this reclusive genius always locked himself away in his workshop and rarely interacted with them.
Yet they knew that Perturabo was kind-hearted at his core. Though stubborn, he was affectionate.
If they mustered the courage to ask him for help,
Perturabo would arrogantly criticize their incompetence.
Then he would get to work, fulfill their needs, and create whatever they required.
Sometimes he even handmade gifts for them.
But he would never admit they were gifts. He always stubbornly insisted they were failed works he was giving away.
Pride was Perturabo's armor, but it was also his Achilles' heel.
If it were shattered into pieces, no one knew what would happen.
Perturabo forced himself to calm down and shook off the fear he felt toward this mysterious outsider.
He turned his head and looked at the giant standing beside him—a man with metal arms, roughly the same size as himself.
"I'll show you my strength."
"If you don't possess the same astonishing abilities as him, I recommend you admit defeat as soon as possible."
Perturabo still carried the stubbornness and rebelliousness unique to youth.
A faint smile appeared on Ferrus's lips. After all, Perturabo was still young.
Even if the Emperor had granted the Primarchs vast knowledge, emotional maturity still required time.
Despite possessing enormous knowledge and extraordinary intellect, and appearing very mature, Perturabo was still young.
The thought of bullying Perturabo and leaving him with lifelong trauma was truly thrilling.
Please cause more of this kind of trouble in the future.
"I still think it's worth trying. I'm just an ordinary person and nowhere near a natural-born genius like you, but I still want to compete against you."
Ferrus spoke with humility—neither arrogant nor self-deprecating.
After confirming that the other party did not possess the mysterious outsider's abilities, Perturabo sneered.
"You'll regret this decision."
"I'm very good at learning from failure," Ferrus replied calmly.
"What's the theme of the contest?" Perturabo stopped wasting time.
"Why don't you choose?" Ferrus prompted. "After all, you're younger than me."
Perturabo stared at Ferrus for a moment, hesitating.
After a while, he finally spoke. "In that case, I won't stand on ceremony."
"Since we both claim to have unraveled the secrets of how everything works, let's settle it with machinery."
Just to be safe, Perturabo chose the field he was best at.
His mechanical skill was peerless, surpassing even Olympian master craftsmen who had spent years in the field.
"Mechanical skill, is it?" Ferrus nodded with a mischievous smile. "I know a little about that too."
Fourth Brother, I at least wanted you to lose with some dignity.
Who would have thought that when there's a path to heaven, you'd choose to charge into the gates of hell?
As long as you don't lose so badly that you collapse crying and start questioning the meaning of life, it counts as a failed transaction.
"Then each of us will create three crafts within one day and one night," Perturabo said, his eyes sharp and full of confidence.
"An astronomical instrument, a weapon, and a siege engine."
"Do you have the courage to accept the challenge?"
"Of course," Ferrus nodded. "I accept."
"Then let's begin," Perturabo said.
Datch stood to the side, watching the conversation between the two Primarch NPCs.
At the same time, he used the Time Stone of the Infinity Gauntlet to browse all timelines.
After confirming that Ferrus would win, he leisurely watched the show.
This time-travel journey, aimed at educating Perturabo, was not meant to boost his confidence.
If Ferrus suffered an unexpected defeat, it would be an absolute disaster.
At that point, the only way to complete this task would be to restart the timeline.
The two Primarchs each got to work.
The palace guards prepared two adjacent workshops for them.
Each workshop was packed with various metal materials and tools.
To ensure fairness in the competition, several scholars specialized in supervision and recording were stationed at the entrances of the workshops.
When Perturabo's mind was working, it functioned like a highly advanced machine.
The moment he entered the workshop, his eyes scanned the metal materials piled in the corner, and he immediately drafted the blueprints for each piece in his mind.
He walked over to the pile of materials and selected the metals he needed. His movements were astonishingly fast.
Heavy iron blocks and copper ingots became as light as cotton in his hands. He carried them one by one to the workbench.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The Primarch's hammer struck the metal with perfect precision and just the right amount of force.
His working speed surpassed any skilled craftsman on Olympia. Even the heavy hydraulic hammers of the foundries could not match his frequency.
Sparks flew as the metal deformed and bent under his hammer, gradually transforming into complex shapes.
Ferrus also chose a workshop. His working speed was equally astonishing. The power and precision of his metal arms far exceeded those of ordinary people.
The hammer became an extension of his arms, each strike delivered with perfect force.
The metal in his hands was like dough—he could easily knead it into any shape he desired.
Complex components rapidly took shape in his hands one after another, as if they were products on an assembly line.
This was a duel between two demigods.
Every strike they delivered contained power far beyond the imagination of mortals, and every movement was filled with innate talent.
Datch stood in the palace corridor, watching the lively scene inside the workshops through the windows. He was a little bored.
He took out the Infinity Gauntlet and chose to use the power of the Time Stone.
Inside the workshops, time passed at an incredible speed, as if a movie were being played on fast-forward.
Perturabo and Ferrus moved at unbelievable speeds. The sound of hammers striking each other rang out like a rapid drumbeat, and their movements were like phantoms.
The people outside stood dumbfounded, their expressions a mixture of terror and awe.
Dammekos withdrew and stood respectfully behind Datch.
He had always despised the authority of the gods.
But when a true god appeared before him, he unconsciously learned to revere that god.
The people outside only waited about thirty minutes. The two workshops, which had been enveloped by the power of time, returned to their original state.
When the workshop doors opened, Perturabo and Ferrus walked out carrying their finished products.
Perturabo was further shocked when his foster sister, who had run over, told him that the mysterious outsider had been manipulating time inside the workshops.
He even began to suspect that the other party might be the golden-armored figure who had appeared in his dreams.
That golden figure had claimed to be his father and had spoken to him about many things in the dream.
…
The two sets of finished products were lined up side by side in the palace hall. On the left were Perturabo's creations. On the right were Ferrus's.
Perturabo's astronomical instrument was a precise brass orb engraved with constellation patterns. Inside were complex gears and a main spring. When activated, the sphere slowly rotated, and the constellation patterns moved across its surface, perfectly simulating the motion of the night sky. The precision and accuracy of this planetary instrument stunned every Olympian craftsman present.
However, when Ferrus's astronomical instrument was placed beside it, the difference became glaringly obvious.
Ferrus's astronomical instrument was also a sphere, but its surface was not carved with patterns. Instead, it was covered in flowing layers of light. That light streamed across the sphere, forming countless star images, each moving along its true orbital path. There were no gears or springs inside the sphere—only an incomprehensible energy pulsing within. When activated, starlight illuminated the entire hall. Everyone felt as if they were standing beneath a vast night sky.
For the weapon, Perturabo had forged a warhammer of ancient, heavy design. Ferrus's weapon was also a warhammer, but its curves were more refined and elegant.
As for the siege engine, Perturabo had produced a massive cannon with range and accuracy far superior to any existing siege weapon on Olympia. Ferrus's siege engine, on the other hand, was a self-propelled suicide robot that could crawl toward its target on its own. The robot could use the user's neural connection to lock onto enemies with perfect accuracy, crawl into the enemy battlefield, and then detonate for maximum destruction.
Anyone with eyes could see that Ferrus's creations were superior.
Perturabo's works were practical and ingenious enough to fill ordinary people with awe. But in front of Ferrus's creations, they looked like children's toys. It was not merely a difference in skill—the design philosophy itself was on a completely different level.
The moment the result was decided, Perturabo's face darkened. His gaze moved back and forth between his own finished products and Ferrus's. The light in his eyes gradually dimmed.
Ferrus smiled brightly and said, "Looks like I'm better."
"Genius of Lochos, are you deliberately losing to me?"
Perturabo immediately became feverish with rage. Humiliation. This was blatant humiliation. This was a blatant humiliation directed at him.
"Looks like you can't beat him." Datch stepped forward. "From now on, I will no longer call you the Genius of Lochos."
"No..." Perturabo's voice was hoarse and trembling, filled with crumbling despair. "There's no way I lost...!"
He spun around like an enraged lion and swung the iron hammer he had forged himself, determined to destroy everything.
Perturabo's movements were astonishingly fast, and his power was terrifying. The hammer, carrying a gale of force, smashed toward Ferrus's astronomical instrument—but he could not bring it down.
Datch used the power of the Space Stone of the Infinity Gauntlet to create a barrier. The Primarch's hammer struck with a dull impact, yet it left not even a single crack.
He smashed it again—once, twice, ten times—but the barrier did not move at all.
"When you lose and get angry from the humiliation, that is not allowed." Datch said calmly. "If you want to make a bet, you must learn to accept defeat. Not get angry out of shame."
"This is unfair!" Perturabo shouted in a hoarse voice. "You must have helped him, or he also possesses special abilities I don't know about, just like you!"
Datch looked at Perturabo but did not rush to refute him. If the dead duck stubbornly refused to admit his inferiority, then just let the facts speak.
Datch used the Time Stone to replay the entire process of the contest for both sides. Although the process had been accelerated, it was clear that Ferrus had not cheated—he had made everything with his own hands.
"In a contest like this, I would never cheat." Ferrus said quietly. "You're simply too weak. You need to keep practicing more."
Perturabo's entire body trembled. He looked like he was about to collapse. His eyes were bloodshot, and he seemed on the verge of tears. Yet he held himself back and turned to leave.
"Leaving already? Aren't you going to show the winner something?" Ferrus delivered another blow.
Perturabo paused for a moment, then quickened his pace and left.
"He's probably about to cry." Datch muttered to himself while watching Perturabo's retreating back, then turned to Ferrus.
This man is quite the teaser. I never noticed before.
Datch looked around, walked over to the throne of the city-state of Lochos, and sat down. This scene not only shocked Dammekos but also many nobles and officials of the city-state of Lochos. Yet no one raised a voice of objection.
Even if they faced a usurper or invader, they could still resist. But now they were facing a god—a god who wielded the highest power. Not only could they not resist, they could not even feel the slightest disrespect.
"Take one more step. Completely destroy Perturabo's mental defenses." Datch intended to continue tormenting the pitiful Perturabo. "Destroy all of that man's buildings and creations. Smash everything. How can garbage like that be allowed to survive in this world?"
"Ferrus, redesign and rebuild them."
Dammekos looked troubled. Although Perturabo often argued with him, in the end, the other was still his adoptive son, someone whose growth he had watched.
His feelings toward Perturabo were not pure, but he had ultimately acknowledged him as an adoptive son.
"Perhaps we can redesign without destroying his works."
"You dare to question me, your punishment will be to turn into a sheep for seven days." Datch glanced at Dammekos, swapped his weapon to sheep-transformation staff, and used it on him.
With a bang, smoke rose, and Dammekos was turned into a sheep.
Many nobles, officials, and the guards loyal to Dammekos in the hall instinctively cheered and rushed forward to protect their tyrant.
Datch waved his hand and unleashed the power of the Time Stone. In an instant, they aged until they could barely walk, and their weapons rusted. He waved his hand again and restored them to their original state.
"If you act recklessly again, the punishment won't be this light."
After everything that had happened, everyone in the hall no longer dared to take reckless actions. All of them lowered their heads.
"Post the notice. The Genius of Lochos is nothing special. All of his creations will be erased." Datch issued orders to the nobles and bureaucrats.
Ferrus walked over to the Nameless One and lowered his voice. "Isn't that going a little too far? Perturabo can't endure this kind of blow."
"He's simply refusing to accept it." Datch said calmly. "The sooner he realizes this world doesn't revolve around him, the better."
Ferrus wanted to say more, but the expression in the Nameless One's eyes forced him to swallow his words.
Datch's orders were carried out swiftly. The army was mobilized and began dismantling and rebuilding various facilities according to Ferrus's proposals.
When the news of the contest spread, the entire city-state of Lochos was shocked. Perturabo had been defeated by an outsider. His title of Genius had been stripped away, and all of his creations had been destroyed.
Discussions quickly spread through the streets and alleys, filled with regret and sympathy for Perturabo.
…
The defeated Perturabo hid in the attic, quietly curling up in the darkness and silently shedding tears in a hidden corner.
"A temporary failure isn't a big deal..." Calliphone sat beside Perturabo and patiently comforted him.
Perturabo said nothing. He simply lay there in silence, completely dejected and crushed.
When he learned that his adoptive father had been turned into a sheep by the outsider and that his foster brothers had been sent to hard labor because they protest from him, the Primarch was somewhat moved, but he was still deeply despondent.
He was a completely powerless and incompetent human being.
Calliphone's heart ached. She had never seen Perturabo look like this. In the past, even when he rejected others, he had always remained strong.
Perturabo wanted to use time to slowly heal his inner wounds, but Datch did not give him that opportunity.
When he found the man hiding in the attic, he immediately declared his intention to marry Calliphone off to a rival city-state to form an alliance and ensure peace.
That hostile city-state was completely militarized. Women and grain were divided as assets among those of outstanding ability. If one's military merits were high enough, it was even possible to seize another man's wife.
No matter how much Perturabo refused to admit his own feelings, he could not simply stand by and watch Calliphone—the girl he had grown up with—be married off to a place like that.
He had no choice but to step forward once again and confront Datch and Ferrus.
"Isn't this our Genius of Lochos? Why aren't you hiding anymore?" Datch said in a mocking tone.
"What exactly are you trying to do?" Perturabo asked. "Have you already obtained the honor and power you desired?"
"Why won't you let go of Calliphone?"
"Does this matter have anything to do with you? From what position are you questioning my decision?" Datch asked, pretending to be surprised. "I've heard that you always take pride in your own strength and have never taken others seriously."
"If I get involved with people who have nothing to do with you, do you really think you can criticize me?"
Perturabo clenched his fists tightly and glared at Datch with fury. "Of course those people have something to do with me."
"Ah..." Datch looked surprised. "Then tell me—what is your relationship with them?"
Ferrus, who was leaning against a pillar in the hall, also wore an interested expression as he looked at Perturabo.