40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 312 32. Blood of Calth (4, 6k)

004.M31, Calth orbit, Macragge's Glory.

Robert Guilliman continued to think of Fel Zalost's words between swings of his sword.

He said that a group of demons was coming, and it came true. He also said that chainswords and bolters can damage them, which is also true. The second half of this sentence was so true that it almost made Guilliman smile.

He held the sword and raised his arms above his head, his muscles beginning to gather strength for it, and the anger surging in his chest added to it.

Robert Guilliman had never felt like this before. He felt like a forge, his heartbeat the rhythm of the burning flames, his hands the hammer, and his enemies the felt. One thousandth of a second later, the steel hammer fell heavily.

Something screamed.

Yes, it should have screamed as its hideous form was sliced ​​cleanly in two by Guilliman's power sword.

Thick blood and things like melted bone or fat squirmed at both ends of the exposed wound, trying to glue the body back together. They were constantly dripping, and each drop hit the bridge floor of Macragge's Glory. It's just a small pit.

Guilliman rotated his wrist, but Leon El'Jonson's voice suddenly sounded in his mind: "When you use the sword, you pay attention to the movement of your opponent's legs. This is a good thing, Robert. But there are always things in the galaxy that are not needed. Legs."

"Yes," Guilliman admitted. "But you always need a brain, right? Leon?"

"Robert Guilliman—!" the daemon screamed again.

The blade fell again.

A head then flew up and turned into smoke before it hit the ground. After he solved this one, he ran to the next one.

The bridge was in chaos at this moment, with roars and screams filling every corner. The portholes were obscured by some black substance, thick like blood, but Guilliman's eyes allowed him to see more.

The stinging pain in his eyes told him that the black blood was also some kind of monster, some kind of creature that transcended reason and nature.

But he had no time for them now.

"Death!" the primarch roared, holding out the blade, and a huge demon with bat wings and curved horns was pierced through his body.

The thing made an odd grunt and raised its right paw, seemingly trying to resist, but Robert Guilliman was faster than it. The power sword fell first, instantly cutting off the hideous and ugly claw.

The demon roared in pain or anger. It flapped its bat wings and tried to rise. A strong wind immediately swept over it, but Guilliman did not give it a chance to escape.

At this moment, his face looked inhuman and ruthless, and there was some kind of brilliance far greater than the sun surging in the depths of his pupils.

The next second, he grabbed the demon's tail and pulled it out of the air. It continued to struggle, so Guilliman raised his foot and crushed its head.

Blood spattered, creating many stains on the blue-gold power armor, but his face remained expressionless and unwavering. He even raised his foot and stepped on it again, crushing it mercilessly.

"Ampien!" After doing this, he began to roar expressionlessly. The name he called was that of his Ninth Chapter Master.

Seconds later, Claude Ambion answered the Primarch's call from the other side of the burning bridge, armed with a bolter and firing continuously. There was no point in aiming, because the demons were everywhere and kept pouring out of the distorted light of the holographic projection table.

The emergency exit behind him has been opened, and the surviving crew members are quickly leaving from there. Fear easily takes hold of their minds, but years of training have allowed them to maintain a certain degree of order.

More Ultramarines arrived from the other side of the bridge, guns blazing and bodies strewn across the ground.

Guilliman began to move closer to Ambion. He saved four crew members, one of whom was seriously injured. He did not see where his captain was - Guilliman hoped that he was alive, but he did not pray for him. By the time he arrived at Claude Ambien's side, the number of crew members had increased to sixteen.

Robert Guilliman stretched out his hand to guide them on the way out, then looked at Ambion: "Where is Zeldof?"

"He's on the auxiliary bridge."

Ampion's answer gave Robert Guilliman a slight sigh of relief - the auxiliary bridge is another command center, a backup plan within the backup plan, and is even only one-third the size of the main bridge.

But it has all the tools to take over the Macragge's Flair. Zedov is still alive and on the auxiliary bridge, which means that the Macragge's Glory will not be stagnant due to this sudden attack. They can still move and will not become a living target for this.

"How many people are around him?"

"Didn't you realize that I was standing here alone just now?" Ampien asked while firing.

"Send another group of people over, we don't have a second auxiliary bridge available."

He could not finish his words, for his voice was interrupted by a violent jolt. The original body raised his head and looked above his head. There was a huge display screen there, which was fortunately not covered by blood.

Guilliman looked at a certain area. At this moment, the calm light blue in that area had turned into an impatient red, and violent alarms sounded throughout the bridge.

Robert Guilliman heard his Ninth Chapter Master curse, and he knew why, in fact, he would have cursed if possible.

The change in color and the sound of the warning sound meant that there was something wrong with the Macragge's Glory's engines, either overloaded or disabled - neither of which was good news.

The original body's face was gloomy, and the display screen suddenly changed in the next second. A grinning face rushed out and rushed towards him, still screaming.

"Robert Guilliman—!" it roared.

"Come on, you beast," Guilliman replied sullenly, and he finally cursed.

——

004.M31, Cous ground, eastern urban area of ​​​​Rude department.

Remus Ventanus is in hell.

He swung his sword, fired his gun, cut off someone's arm, stabbed someone in the head, and used explosives to turn a group of cultists rushing toward him into a cloud of blood. He fights, fights, fights, never stops, until he's dead.

There were only less than 200 troops and simple defenses around him, which meant an extremely low probability of victory and an extremely low probability of survival, but he did not consider these two things at all, he just fought.

So did his brothers, so did the Skitarii, so did the Imperial Army. Not far away, there was the roar of a Chimera infantry fighting vehicle. It was the sound made by Sergeant Erken and his crew of the 11th Armored Division of the New Army in Calth.

They fought bloody battles, just like him, never retreating or flinching.

Is there any room for retreat?

Calth is burning, the whole world is burning, there is no such thing as a 'safe place', not even the sky. The huge shadows and firelight behind the clouds indicated the ominous situation. The ground shook, the city collapsed, and blood flowed into rivers.

He had climbed up and looked far away, and saw that the plain outside the city and another city were being bombed - the Word Bearers' fleet did it, orbital bombing, a safe and convenient way of killing.

Despicable villain, shameless, treacherous.

Ventanus allowed these curses to fill his chest. He didn't want to think about what it meant that the Word Bearers' fleet could directly approach Calth's low-Earth orbit and start bombing. He just wanted to kill now.

So he left the corpses he had just created and rushed towards another group of scarlet figures. They began to chant in response to his arrival, Ventanus's blackened face reflected in the dark green eyepieces.

He raised his sword to kill the first one, rolled to avoid the bullets of the second and third ones, and during this period, he aimed at the target in advance. After the roll was over, he leaned behind a broken stone pillar, raised his bolter, and pulled the trigger four times.

The absolute accuracy brought by the semi-automatic mode allowed the four explosive bombs to accurately hit the heads and chests of the second Word Bearer and the third Word Bearer. They fell to the ground and died. The fourth person is still chanting.

Ventanus roared inhumanly at him in the burning city.

He rushed over, knocked the bastard to the ground, and smashed his helmet and head with the hilt of his sword.

After doing all this, he returned to the rear of the trench and began to count the men.

He was as calm and numb as a monster.

"Debrief," he told his adjutant, the temporary adjutant, a sergeant, Domitian, from the Sixth Company.

The latter is missing one hand, and half of the flesh and blood on his face has disappeared. He opened his mouth and began to report in a slurred voice: "There are ninety-three of us left."

"It looks like we have no chance of getting back to the communications center," Ventanus said. "But it doesn't matter. I sent the map, identification code and everything they needed before the attack."

"Do you think they can make it, sir?"

"I don't have any expectations for this. The city is being bombed outside. When we passed by the main union building, we saw them walking out of the city. The night blades are bound to run into them."

"What do we do now, sir?"

"Kill," Ventanus told him. He wanted to say more, but was interrupted by an explosion. He looked back and saw a Chimera whose tracks had been blown away.

Several Word Bearers stood nearby, laughing with satisfaction, and the cultists eagerly climbed up and dragged Sergeant Elkann and his crew out of the vehicle. Sergeant Elken drew his gun and tried to fight back, but his hand was chopped off, and then they started skinning him.

Sergeant Elkann screamed, yelled, collapsed, and died.

Ventanus began to lower his head and change the magazine of his bolter.

Eleven seconds later, under the cover of fire from the remaining twenty-three skitarii and thirty-three legionaries, Ventanus and his brothers charged towards the enemy.

There were thirty-two of them, and ten seconds after the charge was discovered, the number was reduced to twenty-one, then to fifteen, and after the hand-to-hand combat began, the number became ten.

Ventanus' lieutenant died, smashed in two by a Word Bearer armed with a power hammer, and Ventanus rushed towards him.

The sergeant miscalculated Ventanus's speed, and his arm was cut off by the chain sword the moment he was about to swing the hammer. Ventanus deliberately made him and Sergeant Elken feel the same pain, but unexpectedly The latter took a step back and actually started to chuckle softly.

"Poor Ultramarines" the man began to draw his gun, the laughter turning into laughter.

"Stupid idealist, how come the theoretical system you are so proud of doesn't work, huh? You should have calmly organized an effective offensive. Why do you charge here to die like this? Look at your brother , they died worthless.”

Ventanus remained silent and continued to charge at him. His forward momentum was interrupted by a bolt, which passed through his left shoulder armor and hit the ground. Ventanus fired back, but the latter dodged and continued laughing.

"Your world is burning, cousin!"

"So? You're proud of it?"

"No, maybe a little." The man shook his head. "But I just want to tell you that your resistance is meaningless."

"Your death is meaning," Ventanus said. "When I rip your throat out and pull your tongue out of your mouth, you will know what meaning is."

He began to charge again, and his brothers began to die. He rushed to the man and became the last Ultramarine standing. The Word Bearers put their hands away and began to watch the duel.

The sergeant had obtained a chainsword from another Word Bearer, and he laughed every time he swung it, while Ventanus remained silent.

He knew he was going to die, but it didn't matter. Nothing could hurt him anymore. He had witnessed too many things today. He originally thought that he was a superman and a protector, and that nothing could shake his will. Then he found that he was wrong.

But that doesn't matter.

Ventanus told himself - kill just one more, just one more, for Calth, for Macragge, for Robert Guilliman.

For all those who died today.

He swung his sword and the sergeant laughed and knocked him to the ground. He only had one hand, but he was much calmer than Ventanus was now, and Ventanus began to roll, scrambling to avoid the attack. The sergeant had many chances to end the fight, but he didn't.

He laughed, and so did the Word Bearers, and so did the cultists.

Then the skitarii and legionaries in the trenches began to charge.

Ventanus watched them die, but saw some shadows.

"Did you see it? This is the end, your end, everyone will die."

The sergeant walked close to him and put his foot on his back. He no longer smiled, and there was even a little pity in his voice.

"You like theories, so I'll tell you in a theoretical way, cousin. It's normal for you to be caught off guard and completely defeated, because you don't understand what kind of war this is."

"You are angry about the attack, grieving for the dead civilians, and you have miscalculated our purpose. We are not here for the perfect city, and we are not here to seek revenge from you. This kind of goal is too low-level, and we are here for destruction. Do you understand? Extermination, that's what we're here for."

"After today, Calth will cease to exist, all will die, and your souls will be a gift for a god to return to his throne."

Ventanus felt a stinging pain on his face, and the weight on his back made him almost unable to lift his head, which was just as well, lest his smile at the moment be seen. He lowered his head and told the sergeant.

"You get nothing but death. We are not alone."

"Really? Do you have helpers?" The sergeant bent closer to him and asked. "This is really unexpected, but unfortunately it sounds more like a bluff lie."

"He's not lying," a voice said from above, hissing like a ghost.

The sergeant raised his head and the Word Bearers raised their guns, but it was too late, for death had come. The sergeant was cut in half with a sword, and blood and entrails fell to the ground, falling on Ventanus. He climbed up and was handed a sword.

An Astartes wearing midnight-colored power armor nodded towards him. The eyepieces were scarlet, reflecting a charred face.

Ventanus reached out and took the sword. It was a finely crafted power sword with a perfect center of gravity and a scarlet hilt.

"What did you encounter outside the city?" he asked, without asking why the Night Blades came so late. He had no reason to ask such a thing, and he didn't blame them. The bombing continued in the distance, the sky was as bright as day, and the flashes representing explosions seemed to last forever.

"You might not believe it, cousin," the man said. "The Word Bearers have Titans and we're forced to take a detour."

"What?"

"They have Titans, you heard me right." The man turned his head and looked at the dazzling flash on the other side of the city. "What do we have?"

Ventanus lowered his head and raised the sword in his hand.

——

004.M31, Cous ground, Army assembly point bunker in Roude department.

Yago Savitarion didn't like the moment he was going through now. He should have liked it, because they had just cleared the ground, rounded up the survivors, and successfully entered the bunker and cleared the place.

This should have been a moment worthy of a small celebration, but alas, the Sons of Aurelion were going crazy.

Eight hundred and twenty-four people looked at him in silence. Angel Tai was their only commander, and he was not calm. He also stared at Yago Savitarion. Without saying a word, he stood very close to him, his body trembling slightly.

"What do you want to do?" Savita asked, squinting at him.

"You know, Captain Severtalion." Angel Tai replied in a low voice.

"I don't like the way you talk to me. You sound like a grenade about to explode. I've been allergic to explosions and stuff today, Angel Tai. So can I ask you a favor? Calm down and let’s talk again?”

Angel Tai shook his head.

Sevatar sighed, and a rather awkward silence fell between them. Fortunately, a dying Word Bearer was of great help. He vomited blood and climbed up from the pile of corpses, muttering something in his mouth, interrupting the silence.

Savita was truly grateful for this - he raised his hand before Angel Tai and fired three shots in that direction without looking to express his gratitude.

After the gunfire, he spoke again.

"I understand what you are thinking, but my mission is to recover the army assembly point and restart the communication equipment. These tasks are already half successful. Next, we will station here and send out communications, gather manpower, and then push back to the city. You see, I have many tasks, and none of them include going to the city."

"They are all in the city." Angel Tai said softly. "Slaughter, sacrifice, and fun in the name of the Word Bearers. We need to get to the city, Captain Severtalion."

"You can do it later, but not now." Saiveta said, his face under his helmet becoming serious. "I want to reiterate to you, Captain Angel Tai, you must calm down."

"I'm afraid I can't do this," Angel Tai said to him. "We will march into the city ourselves, and every Word Bearer will—"

"——They won't do anything wrong, but you will all die." Savita sneered, and at the same time he was glad that he did not continue his old habit of taking off his helmet. He knew very well that if Angel Tai saw this smile, he would get punched in the face.

"We won't," Angel Tai said. "We'll kill them all."

"Is there something wrong with your mind, cousin? Can't you see the current situation clearly?" Savita took a step forward, grabbed Angel Tai's shoulders and began to growl at him.

"Calth is being bombarded from orbit. Those damn bastards can actually clean the surface directly, because we have no countermeasures at all. But they suddenly decided to use another way to kill us all."

"The method they chose is to send a large force to land. We have already met their armored forces. What will happen next? Titans? There are at least tens of thousands of Word Bearers waiting for you in that damn city, Aurelion. Son of Lorgar Aurelion, right? Do you think they will regard you as the sons of Lorgar Aurelion?"

Angel Tai looked at him for a while, then turned around: "We will talk later."

Yeah, talk to you later, you poor thing. Sevatar shook his head and walked to the other side of the bunker. A technician from the Mechanicum came to him: "Sir, I have something to report."

"What a coincidence, I also have a poem to write to you."

The technician looked at him confused.

"I was joking," said Sevatar. "What's up?"

"We received a communication signal from Leptis Numinas. The other party called himself Marius Gage, the leader of the First Chapter. I think it is necessary to report this news to you." The technician said.

She used to work in a watchtower in the Roude department. She was not at her post when the disaster struck, and she was lucky enough to avoid the data crash that killed 80% of Calth's Mechanicus technicians.

After the war started, she quickly moved with the Skitarii. They fought hard all the way and successfully moved to the assembly point outside the city before the large army of Word Bearers entered the city, which was a time lag.

However, they still had to deal with a small group of Word Bearers troops, which was not an easy task. Fortunately, the arrival of Sevatar and his detachment saved them from death.

Sevita nodded towards her: "Now I really want to write you a poem, madam. Please take over the communication."

There is another chapter, about 4-6k, I don’t recommend waiting, because I might not be able to write that much.