40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 157 18. Taking away the one who cannot be taken away

Fulgrim once described the war to Konrad Curze - Curze expected that he would hear some beautiful description from Chemos, but Fulgrim did not do that.

In fact, he even sounded a lot like Ferrus Manus.

"War is essentially a collection of killing techniques." Fulgrim said thoughtfully.

"It is an ancient and advanced discipline, brother. It requires you to maintain precision, rationality and speed while dehumanizing, and then requires you to embrace violence while possessing these calm qualities."

"It requires you to use swords to slash enemies, and it also requires you to use artillery and bombers to turn all enemies into a mixture of flesh and ashes. It even requires you to make heavy sacrifices at certain moments. So, if you are sure You are going to start a war. Make sure it ends quickly."

The Chemos shook his head and murmured softly.

"The longer it goes on, the scarier it becomes."

Conrad Coates didn't understand what this meant then, but now he does.

He finally understood what was hidden behind Fulgrim's bitter expression and words - it meant that he had grown up, but was he happy about it?

the answer is negative.

Moreover, even now, when he becomes a member of the war, he does not feel that he knows anything about the war. He can only do one thing.

He knows nothing but killing.

Konrad Coates closed his eyes, then opened them again, ending this brief thought and returning his attention to the battlefield in front of him.

The aliens pulled the triggers of the guns in their hands, and the red light formed a torrent of spectacle and hit him and the soldiers behind him. The ruins formed by the collapse of city buildings withstood the direct fire rain for them. After four consecutive rounds of shooting, they stopped, so Van Cleef immediately organized a counterattack.

The first company commander's roar sounded hoarsely in the communication channel - "Kill them all!"

The Eighth Legion stood out from the ruins silently, like shadows of the dead. They opened fire, and the loose front line of the aliens was immediately torn apart. Since their appearance, no alien has ever found a bunker or tried to escape.

They almost crave death, an attitude that makes them benevolent.

Countless broken bodies that had been mutilated by explosive bombs fell limply, and unpleasant but incessant screams resounded throughout the entire front. They make almost no sounds, and communicate only through weird grunts, except when they are dead or emotionally aroused and emit such horrible screams.

The counterattack lasted for a while, and Van Cleef saw the result he wanted to see, so the first company commander rushed out of the ruins first, jumped over the corpses and obstacles, lowered his attitude, and moved quickly among the corpses. Behind him followed a silent torrent of dark blue.

The Eighth Legion rushed into them with indescribable hatred, and the bloody massacre began immediately. Knives, swords, claws, and even punches aimed at vital points, broken limbs and broken arms fell into the dust with blood, brewing more blood and tragedy.

Konrad Coates withdrew his gaze and asked a question in the communication channel. He felt nothing about this scene, not even pleasure.

"How long will it take?" he asked emotionlessly, sounding not like himself but a stranger.

While he was waiting for an answer, another laser storm roared from the ruins of the city not far away. The aliens launched another counterattack, but this time, they didn't come by themselves.

Konrad Curze disappeared in the next moment and rushed towards the place where his legion was advancing. The twelve hunting parties behind him stared silently at the Primarch as he walked away, gripping their weapons and guarding the rear for their brothers and Primarch.

"Conservative estimate, it will take another thirty minutes, original body."

"I'll give you forty-five minutes, Yarod." Konrad Curze said to his Sixth Company Commander on the communication channel. "Blow up that power plant and send it rolling back into the ground."

"Understood, original body." The sixth company commander replied simply. He hung up the phone immediately after that without any regrets.

Curze's cloak rustled as he sped through the dusty wind.

Frontal advances had never been something the Eighth Legion was good at, and not many of them carried heavy firepower, but the enemy was different.

The laser storm just now was formed by those battle robots. It's already difficult to deal with them just in small groups, let alone in groups like this. The distance of more than a thousand meters passed in an instant. He crossed the bloody and muddy land in fourteen seconds and appeared at the front of the battle line.

The huge, silvery and heavy machinery fired a deadly torrent continuously, while his legions were dormant among the ruins and enemy corpses, waiting for opportunities.

Now, the opportunity has come.

Konrad Coates took a deep breath of the filtered, slightly bitter air. He tasted the taste on the tip of his tongue, and he clenched his right hand suddenly.

A sharp blade appeared just like that.

The grip that was once carefully polished by Fulgrim and Ferrus Manus has disappeared. The grip has turned into molten metal, embedded between his gauntlets, snapping together like the upper and lower teeth of a monster. , original, yet chilling. The blade itself was extended many times, and the dark light flickered, outlining a cruel shape in the air.

Konrad Curze did not let out a war cry. He floated silently, like a dark cloud hanging over the heads of the hateful metals, and began to kill these mechanical creations. No fighting machine was worth staying for more than a second, and all problems were solved with a single swipe.

VanCleef roared again, his bolter firing with precise precision.

They were fighting alongside their Primarch.

It was the first time, but it seemed like it had been practiced millions of times.

Konrad Curze cut off the half of a machine and pulled away. The rain of bombs that followed immediately destroyed it completely.

Explosions occurred in series, one after another. His scarlet cloak was fluttering endlessly in the strong wind, and the corners had become scorched black, but it was not damaged at all. He chased his next prey, and a bolt of plasma shot from behind pointed him in the direction.

A piece of machinery was staggered, and a huge hole appeared in its back. The leader of the Eighth Legion opened his hands and rushed forward, pulling out the inner core and throwing it behind the enemy's line - into the group of aliens.

A bomb accurately hit it just as it was about to disappear. A huge explosion appeared in the corner of the eyepiece. The sound was deafening, but it did not make Konrad Coates feel anything at all.

He waved his arms coldly, even with boredom.

Three and a half hours after the war began, the ground collapsed, and the true appearance of Harkossus One was finally fully revealed to the Eighth Legion. It is no longer shy, no longer silent. It made a loud noise and rumbled like thunder on the ground.

The city collapsed, flesh turned, fangs closed, and like a beast, Harkossus One began to thirst for the blood of the Eighth Legion. And it has actually tasted a lot. The blood of the Pale from Terra was licked greedily by it.

Curze couldn't help but think of the armored corpses he had seen with his own eyes. A hatred that was very familiar to the midnight ghosts surged in Conrad Curze's heart, and a voice followed him. sounded in his heart.

+Are you okay? How about Legion? +

+It's me, Conrad. +

+I know, how are you? What about the Eighth Company? +

+We are fighting underground. +

Konrad Curze waved his arm, and a gloomy blue flashed past, completely destroying the last fighting machine like a silent and silent lightning.

It fell to the ground, and the one-eyed head tilted and flashed with lightning, and then was completely crushed by an iron boot. It merged with the flesh and blood of their maker and became a different kind of battlefield dust.

+underground? +

+I sunk the spire into their home. +

+That doesn't sound like the function of a building. Also, I saw something, Khalil. +

+What did you see? +

+ all this. +Conrad Coates replied coldly.

He stood there, looking out. He was clearly standing on the ground, but he seemed to be looking down. All he could see was wreckage.

People who have not walked here personally will not understand that the air is filled with dust, even covering the power armor, covering up the original color. Not far away was the area being bombed by the Storm Eagle. The smoke turned into a giant, roaring wildly in the originally blue sky.

Konrad Curze personally issued this order. He knew that many human civilians would die, but that was no longer his primary concern now.

He forced himself to throw away some things, and he had no idea whether he would find them back later.

Konrad Curze only knew one thing - he had to do this, he had to maintain the stability of the front, otherwise, with the current numbers of the Eighth Legion, it would be impossible for them to engage in a head-on battle with this group of aliens. There are so many of them that extraordinary measures must be taken.

+ Fulgrim said that war means the destruction of humanity. Khalil, I think he is right. +

+That's just one of the prices you have to pay, Conrad. +

The voice coming from the psychic communication was serious and gloomy, unlike Khalil Lohars. In a daze, Coze saw again the monster who committed brutal murders in the rainy night of Nostramo. He laughed silently and blankly inside his helmet - just now, he actually felt a little nostalgic.

+War will continue to take things away from you until you become the one who has nothing to take away.+

+You sound like this already, Khalil. +

+No, I still have something that hasn't been taken away from me. +

+You seem to be smiling. +

+I do. +

Konrad Coze lowered his head, retracted the blade, and hung up the psychic communication proactively and without any guidance.

He is going to the next battlefield and there is no time to continue this conversation.

The writing is relatively slow, and I plan to pay more attention to the quality.

Also, I'm writing now, don't wait, it's probably nine or ten o'clock.