The Ancient swung his staff without warning. The recruit took the full brunt of the hurtling lump of gnarled wood. It crashed against his torso, sending hairline cracks through ribs. The force of the sudden, unexpected blow shocked all but the most hardened of veterans, plus the few recruits that had seen him do it beforehand. Thudding to the floor, the inductee groaned in pain and frustration. The Ancient was one of the few who could claim direct Terran heritage, and had personally slain a drakhil. A meandering, carnivorous and sinuous creature composed outwardly entirely of claws and scales, it took either serious guts or serious stupidity to fight one alone. That he had triumphed was honest testament to his formidable combat prowess. He had fought the vicious predators of his homeworld, he had slaughtered greenskins, repelled the Evil From Beyond The Dark, and butchered the legions of the great corruptors. He could certainly best a human in single combat. Even if the human in question possessed all his senses, was a fresh recruit into the Dragon Company space marines chapter, and was a twentieth of his age.