Iron Fist

The Iron Hands fought with a kind of mechanistic doggedness and took a good deal of killing. Lucius felt a giddy excitement when a
warrior who should have died from the high cut to his neck and a simultaneous thrust up into the chest cavity clubbed him to the ground with an iron fist like a piledriving hammer. He reeled from the blow, but recovered quickly as the warrior closed to finish him. Viscous fluid poured from his terrible wounds, but its shimmering petrochemical sheen told Lucius the blades had only split some mechanised component.

‘There’s barely enough flesh on you to kill,’ he said, swaying aside from a clumsy chainsword sweep.

***

Angel Exterminatus, Chapter 14