40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 151 12. The first battle (2)

Soldier Dassault struggled to get up from the ground. His brain was in chaos. The buzzing and violent screams ruined everything, making it almost impossible for him to think.

Burning metal crackled around him, the silver ground blackened and covered in blood. Several mangled bodies horribly surrounded him. It took several minutes for Soldier Dassault to finally clear his mind and realize that he was still inside the spire.

The spire of Harkossus I is a symbol of honor, sacrifice and devotion. And now it's been invaded, by a group of monsters falling from the sky -!

The realization nearly made Soldier Dassault furious, but he didn't let his anger get to him. In fact, he remained calm. He has never fought in actual combat, not even once, but the months and months of training are just to come in handy at this time.

He quickly checked himself over and it turned out well, he wasn't hurt. The damaged battle uniform protected him at the expense of his own fragmentation. He took off his damaged combat uniform and knocked on his intact combat helmet.

It buzzed to tell him it could still be used. Soldier Dassault moved his thoughts and linked them to the 'runes' built into his helmet according to what the battle manual said. His thoughts sank into a silver ocean.

He went deeper, hungry for communication - he needed to find a superior, anyone, anyone who could direct him and tell him what to do next. Soldier Dassault's search was fruitful, and he found a swirling object in the silver sea.

Then, he immediately hit it with his mind. The next second, wild and violent words rushed into his brain.

They are questions, inquiries, requests and emphasis. It was endless screaming and shouting, overwhelming terror, one man's voice the most intense, almost practically drowning out everything else.

Soldier Dassault recognized the owner of the voice. It was Officer Tower-C0-1, and Officer Tower-C0-1 was screaming in his head.

The spire is under attack, the spire is under attack! Repeat, the spire is under attack! They are falling from the sky and we are being slaughtered! God, light the fire and protect me!

These words were repeated over and over again, and the soldier Dassault wanted to reply, but he could not. The voice of Officer Tower-C0-1 was too loud for him. They were given sacred rights by the fire, so even their voices seemed so violent in the whirlpool.

Dassault begged humbly, hoping that Officer Tower-C0-1's voice would become slightly quieter. He needed answers, needed to be ordered. He tried several times without success, so he had to exit the silver ocean and opened his eyes.

His ability to think has been restored, and through the vision provided by the battle helmet, he clearly saw the corpses in the ruins. There were far more dead than he thought, and he began to think back, aided by the data-logging capabilities of his combat helmet.

From those complicated data, Soldier Dassault realized that the battle had actually started half an hour ago. The enemy was a rain of fire falling from the sky. They smashed the spire, fell into it, and launched a terrible attack.

He couldn't help but start to guess - were there more fire rains falling on residential areas?

Burning fire, he hopes his family is safe. This thought was abandoned by himself after a few seconds.

Soldier Dassault moved his tongue and licked his dry lips to prevent himself from getting too nervous.

Holding his battle rifle tightly, he came to the dead soldiers and took away their replaceable ammunition storage boxes.

It took him some time to do this, and time was never his alone. While he was busy picking up ammunition to increase the chance of survival as stated in the combat manual, burning debris fell from the sky and landed on the ground, making a terrifying loud noise.

Soldier Dassault was shocked and turned around suddenly. The battle rifle was already pointed over there. He is well trained and is also one of the guards of the spire. It was an honorable duty, and the fire gave him the right to shoot.

Soldier Dassault recited these words silently, hoping that they would provide him with some small measure of courage. He raised his head, glanced at the wreckage, and immediately recognized what it was.

This was one of the tens of thousands of combat robots installed inside the spire. He saw the iconic metal beak. These combat machines, about six meters high, provided Harkossus 1 with numbers 2 and 3. Rare peace. Now, it's a twisted pile of scrap metal.

Dassault didn't see why it was destroyed, but he could detect a deep chill.

Fear ensued, and for no apparent reason, Soldier Dassault began to roar into the darkness with a shattering roar, and at the same time began to fire - at an enemy he didn't know where.

Of course he knew he was just bluffing. But the combat manual mentioned that doing so can sometimes be effective, and this was the first time Soldier Dassault used it.

He got results, and the battle manual lived up to him.

There was indeed something in the darkness, but it was not the kind of thing he expected to see.

What came out of the darkness was not the 'enemy' he wanted to face, but a ghost, a tall, walking ghost. The cold blue fire burned quietly in the empty eye sockets, and all the noise around him disappeared at this moment.

The ghost stared at him, and Soldier Dassault's eyes widened and he threw away everything in the battle manual. He fell to his knees, his face contorted with fear under his battle helmet.

He began to scream, even though the ghost had done nothing yet - and his last thought before he died was: Will a fire bless my soul?

"No, it won't," said the ghost, and raised his arm.

Khalil gently took off the battle helmet on the head of the Harkossian soldier. The face under the helmet was distorted, with tears streaming down his face. Everything was messy, but it was not difficult to see that he was a young man. people.

A group of beating flames stayed on his forehead, shining with silver light at the moment. This is not a tattoo, but a mark that is deeply embedded in the flesh.

He stared at the logo belonging to the Halkossus Fire Chamber of Commerce for a while and shook his head.

What chamber of commerce needs to use religious methods to brainwash soldiers? Or even call this behavior ‘flame entry’?

He saw many images and stirring emotions from the unguarded mind of the soldier named Dassault. There was a lot of evidence to prove that the Burning Chamber of Commerce was brainwashing the people of Harkossus with religion and belief.

And here's the problem, this is undoubtedly a cult.

Khalil shook his head thoughtfully and bent down to pick up the helmet - holding it with half a finger, to be precise.

The appearance of this helmet is very interesting. Its rear half is standard round, silver, and shiny. The material is not metal, but it is much tougher than ordinary metal.

The front half is a little weird. A sharp, beak-shaped respirator is placed at the front, with two silver eyepieces above it. Likewise, the dancing flames with silver edges and black background also danced quietly on the top of the helmet.

light a fire

Khalil threw down his helmet, turned around, and left the ruins.

He reached the twelfth floor from the bottom of the spire in a few jumps. The airborne pod could sometimes create some unexpected paths. Interestingly, this building called the Minaret is really strong.

There was no damage to its basic building structure, even if it was hit by the airborne pod from the twelfth floor all the way to the bottom.

The scene on the twelfth floor is very different from the dark and burning bottom floor. The most basic lighting is still retained here. There is plenty of light, but the silver ground is covered with blood. There was a low and continuous buzzing sound from the other end of the wide corridor.

That was the sound of the firearms of the people of Harkossus. Their guns are interesting, and their battle robots are even more interesting.

Khalil used his agility to dissect six combat robots during the battle, and he concluded that the mechanical structures of these things were exactly the same, and even the sizes of the parts were exactly the same.

This means that they are creations produced on an assembly line, rather than machines carefully handcrafted by craftsmen.

They are powered by nuclear power and have shells that can withstand explosive shells. Attacking weak points should be effective, but these six-meter-tall machines are not bulky, they are actually very agile. Although not as good as the Astartes, it is enough.

Not to mention the firepower they possess. The rifles of ordinary soldiers in Harkossus can pose a threat to power armor when focusing fire. The shoulder-mounted firearms of these things are even more exaggerated, with both rate of fire and firepower. . There is no doubt that they are tough opponents.

So - what chamber of commerce can research these things?

Combat robots powered by nuclear power and combat uniforms that enhance physical fitness can be seen everywhere on ordinary soldiers. But Khalil knew that these things were just the tip of the iceberg. He saw more weapons from the memory of Soldier Dassault.

Can these things really be possessed by a federation that has not even developed long-distance navigation?

Khalil didn't have the answer, but he wasn't going to find out. He was tired of deciphering.

The blue light flashed in the corridor, and the cloak wrapped around his armor like a ghost, making him look like he was floating instead of running. Six seconds later, Khalil arrived at the site of the gunfire.

A group of Harkossian soldiers gathered here, relying on the firepower of three battle robots to temporarily resist the upward advancement of the Eighth Legion.

Khalil lowered his knees, jumped up slightly, and jumped into the crowd. The soldiers of Harkossus stared at him dumbfounded, not realizing what happened for the first time until Khalil stretched out his right hand.

The blue blade that beat like a shadow flashed away, creating several headless corpses. Blood spattered and even jumped to the ceiling. At this time, they just woke up from a dream. The muzzle fire was immediately turned around, and they had lost the chance to shoot.

They had no way to shoot in the crowd - not to mention, the prerequisite for shooting was aiming, and Khalil kept flashing.

In the third second of the battle, he approached the first battle robot. The heavy, shining silver machine was obviously unaware of his arrival, and was still pouring firepower towards the front of the corridor.

Khalil waved his right hand, and the sharp blade penetrated deeply into the waist and abdomen of the machine, and then it suddenly expanded. The power of psychic energy turned the short knife into a long sword in the next second. Khalil rotated his wrist and swung the sword upward, cutting it in half.

Some blue liquid spilled from between the broken wires, hissing on the metal floor. The second battle robot finally turned its head at this moment, its metal beak opened, and dangerous red light was gathering in it.

Khalil ignored it and just gently kicked a component that risked blue light from the machine with his foot, and then immediately disappeared in place. Half a second later, a violent explosion occurred among the people of Harkossus.

Death has come, and the murderer is gone.

When the Harkossians died from the serial explosions, he had already reached the other end of the corridor. Here, six Astartes wearing gloomy dark blue power armor gathered together.

One of them was tying three armor-piercing grenades together using a special technique. Obviously, they already have a way to deal with those stubborn Harkossians.

"Good idea," Khalil said softly. "However, I'm afraid the armor-piercing grenades need to stick to them to be effective."

"I will do this," Enric Barbatos said. "As long as you don't turn them into scrap metal."

Khalil chuckled. Of course he knew that Enric Barbatos could do this, but this did not prevent him from helping them. He turned his head and looked at the other end of the corridor, assessed the scene of the explosion he had caused, and asked casually.

"How's the situation with the Eighth Company?"

"We have advanced to the twenty-eighth floor and are currently cleaning up from the twenty-eighth floor—"

Enric Barbatos shook his head. "-But the effect is not good. These Harkossians will be frightened by fear, but they can always gather and launch a counterattack against us."

"religion."

"You know that too?"

"It's so obvious." Khalil turned his head. "If they were simply brave and not afraid of death, it might be interpreted as the basic quality of a battle-hardened army. But these people are obviously not, and"

"And they'll charge back at us shouting the word fire," Enric Barbatos said, his armor still bleeding.

"Well, let your Eighth Company pay more attention, Captain Enric." Kalil nodded to him, and the skull-like mask distorted his voice into a terrifying echo, but Enric did not I don't feel scared, I even feel relieved.

"I will act according to the plan and go to the top of the spire. We will see you there."

"As you command, instructor."

The captain of the eighth company bowed his head slightly to show respect. When he raised his head again, Khalil had disappeared.

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