40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 314 34. Blood of Calth (6, 5k)

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

"It's coming!" shouted Ionid Hill.

He raised his gun and shot at the monster coming out of the nightmare in the corridor of the fortieth deck.

The thing had a rough human shape, like a silhouette in the dark, but it had no limbs. To be more precise, it only has two limbs, and two crew members support it to stand and move.

Their bodies were twisted, their legs moved to where their heads should have been. The head was in the center of the body, and the arms were rotated together at the bottom of the body, like steel bars, with blood and bone fragments constantly flying from the arms.

Their face was a screaming whirlpool, its face an empty blank filled with nothing but black ash that writhed like maggots.

Together, Hill and his squad shattered the bodies of the two crewmen with explosive bombs, their heads weeping and falling from their bodies, turning into molten blood.

The thing fell to the ground, its head tilted back, its featureless face staring at Hill. So Hill pulled the trigger again, and the blast tore it into pieces.

"Advance!" he shouted as three Ultramarines ran past him, then two Auxiliary soldiers. Hill followed them, and was the last one to leave the fortieth deck and step into the elevator.

There are many of these lifts in the Macragge's Glory, some are the latest models, and some are as old as this one and make a loud rumbling noise when moved.

Hill stood in the center of the elevator and began to observe everyone's expressions.

Battle-brother Corso was fine, with nothing but anger flowing across his face. Scout Coles is also fine. He was slightly injured before, but the wound has stopped bleeding now. Alchemist Jer is also fine, as long as you ignore his heavy breathing.

Hill ignored the incident, he needed the pharmacist Jael to be okay.

He turned his head and looked at the two auxiliary soldiers. One of them just raised his head and looked at Hill.

"Sir?"

"What's up?"

The man opened his mouth, and it took several seconds before he uttered his question amidst the rumbling noise of the elevator: "What do you think?"

Hill knew what he wanted to ask, and he wanted to know the answer to the question, but he wouldn't reveal the same.

He just raised his sword and put the long sword from the primarch's personal arsenal to his forehead. Then he put it down, held the sword pointed to himself, and handed it to the soldier. The latter took it with both hands and barely raised it.

The weight made his expression become a little dazed. Hill reached out to take back the sword, completing this unprecedented and simple ritual with unknown meaning.

The doubt is eliminated.

"He's OK," Hill said. "Just because we were attacked does not mean that the main bridge was also attacked. This is only the fortieth deck, which is still a long way from the main bridge. So don't worry, Soldier Pal."

As soon as he finished speaking, the elevator suddenly stopped. The blue indicator light indicating good operating conditions suddenly turned dazzling red at the top of the elevator, and the alarm bell sounded not far away.

Everyone knew what the red meant - a stalled engine, or worse.

Hill glanced up and understood the situation, but he remained unmoved. He stretched out his hand and pulled down the emergency operation lever. The ceiling of the elevator was opened and two steel chains hung down. Hill and battle brother Corso began to pull on it, making the lift rise little by little.

Pharmacist Jair began to lower his head to check everyone's weapons. He replaced a new magazine for Scout Coles, and then asked Soldier Pal to unfold the bayonet of the Shining Four.

Eleven minutes later, they arrived at the emergency passage on the thirteenth deck, and Hill used the long sword to cut open the hatch.

Strangely enough, this sword is neither a chain sword nor a power sword. It looks like an ordinary two-handed long sword, but it can cut anything as smoothly as tofu.

He kicked open the door and entered the thirteenth deck with his improvised team. Something jumped towards him.

It was at least as big as half a personnel carrier. When Hill saw its huge scarlet mouth and the sharp teeth distributed in a spiral shape inside, he didn't even have to think about it. It definitely had a huge appetite. This was not an imagination, but based on the inside of the mouth. conclusion drawn from many body parts.

Hill and his squad fed the thing one last time with bolt bombs.

They move on.

After a while, the number of the team increased to twenty-two people, six auxiliaries, and sixteen ultramarines. There was one company commander, Frastorkes, from the 111th Company, but he did not choose to take over Hill's command.

In this way, they advanced from the thirteenth deck to the fifth deck. The team had now grown to 133 people, including 36 auxiliary troops and 97 ultramarines.

On the battlefield, this force is not even enough to be called a 'troop', but for the current Macragge's Glory, they may be considered a strike force.

It's a pity that there are more monsters. They are so numerous that it is unbelievable. It is like Macragge's Glory falling into the sea. These monsters are the waves.

They came from every corner, from behind every door and window. Hill had lost count of how many of these things he had killed today. He even started to build a new theoretical system.

He found that blades and fire were more effective than bolts and plasma. You might need ten bolts to kill a monster, but with a sword, it might only take one. They do not leave corpses behind after they die, but turn into black viscous liquid or dissipate into smoke.

There was no doubt that this was not any of the 'Imperial Truths', so Private Cool began to tell everyone that they were facing a demon.

Hill did not rebuke his religious beliefs. Everyone in the five hundred worlds of Ultramar can believe freely, otherwise there would not be so many people who did not believe in Luojia religion to settle here. In fact, he even agrees with it.

"Yes, it's the devil," he told the company commander. "I can't think of a better description than naming these things after monsters from ancient Terran myths and legends."

"Perhaps they are," said Frastorkes. "They fit the descriptions in those stories, don't they?"

The commander of the 111th Company sighed deeply and uttered one word: ".evil."

Hill again agreed.

Yes, evil.

What they are fighting is not a traitor, an alien, or anything else that can be understood on a rational level. They are fighting evil.

Fight evil.

But Hill knows that they are not justice, they are revenge.

"Keep going!" he shouted.

Ten minutes later, they fought their way through the demons and arrived at the main bridge. The armored door was not closed, and the emergency lights illuminated the width inside. Everyone's spirits were relaxed at this moment.

There was no other reason than that they saw Robert Guilliman.

The Lord of Ultramar is fighting. He holds a sword in both hands and fights with a demon. The thing seems to be as high as two stories. It cannot reach the ceiling of the main bridge of Macragge's Glory, but it is already A monster among monsters.

Looking at it, Hill suddenly felt an impulse of absurd metaphors. Instead of suppressing it, he let it escape his lips.

"What is this? A demon tank armored vehicle?"

Frastorkes smiled, and they rushed into the bridge and began to fight side by side with the other brothers who had already arrived.

Under the pale light of the emergency lights, Hill saw a distorting holographic projection platform.

Its circular communication platform and the meditator array, which were originally full of mechanical beauty, have become one. The surroundings are beating with distorted and gorgeous light. Things are pouring out of it every minute and bombs are flying towards them like raindrops. But it can only suspend the momentum, and cannot really stop this portal-like thing.

Hill reached down and pulled the five bundled grenades from his belt. He pulled off a tab and tossed them all. Fire exploded, and some kind of scream began to echo in everyone's ears.

"Continue!" A man yelled, and Hill recognized who he was. It was Claude Ampion, the leader of the Ninth Chapter. "Who threw the grenade? Keep going! Keep going! Top it with the flamethrower!"

Robert Guilliman saw this scene out of the corner of his eye. He did not smile, but continued to swing his sword. His opponent began to utter human words with his ferocious face. The voice sounded like an unpleasant duet, but it was not a male voice and a female voice, but a dead man and a dead man.

"You don't understand, Robert Guilliman, you don't understand what our presence means. You and your heirs are fighting an unwinnable battle, and you can't win because you can't stop it."

Its rough skin was covered with sword marks, but none of them could really put it in 'danger'. Guilliman remained silent and continued to swing his sword.

The fire in the forge of his chest was growing ever higher, and the cause of this destructive rage was not the demon but something else. For example, the Word Bearers are bombarding the city of Calth from orbit. For example, they are launching drop pods towards the plains of Calth.

He was furious. The rage he was experiencing at this moment was beyond the limits of what a normal person or an Astartes could bear. They would go crazy over it, but Robert Guilliman did not.

But the heat in his eyes began to change.

The devil laughed.

"Doesn't this feel good?" With obvious malice, it grinned with a mouth full of sharp teeth. Wriggling maggots and the stiff nails of the dead fell from the wounds on its body, its eyes were spinning, and a thousand pale faces surged within them.

"Angry. I haven't had this feeling for a long time. I am nothingness, a future that neither men nor women want, a nightmare. What do you think I am, Robert Guilliman?"

"You are a corpse," Guilliman said.

He strode forward and brought the sword down. The demon raised its right hand to block the attack. A dark flash of light flashed from its eyes, and a vicious whisper from the deepest part of the subspace began to climb up Guilliman's blade, deepening in an instant. his mind.

The destruction of the Calth starport and the disaster on the surface of Calth began to superimpose before Guilliman's eyes, and then transformed into corpses. The bodies of his sons, the bodies of his crew, the bodies of the men of Calth - and finally blood, everlasting blood.

He knelt down as a loser and cried helplessly among the corpses. The blood drowned him, and the dead grabbed him and began to drag him down.

It's all accusations, endless accusations.

It was you who let us die, Roboute Guilliman. they said. It was your incompetence that killed us.

"How many more times are you going to do this?" Robert Guilliman asked coldly.

He gripped the sword tightly and returned to the real world. The forge lit up like a blazing flame in the depths of his eyes, and the blazing light almost broke through the shackles of the body and descended into the world. The demon had shown him similar visions hundreds of times since the beginning of the battle.

It wanted to hurt him—first to destabilize him in this way, and then to harm him physically.

"I can keep doing this until the world is destroyed, and there are a million other ways, but how long can you hold on?" The devil asked with a low smile. It straightened up, and some changes occurred on the surface of its body as huge as a rock.

It began to shrink, began to transform, became almost human, and very short. Guilliman seized this opportunity and swung his sword again. This time the attempt was extremely successful, and he cut off the ferocious head with one stroke of his sword.

But it was not the end, for Tarasha Euton's face was rising from her headless body.

Because Thalasa Yuton stood in front of Robert Guilliman instead.

"Robert?" she asked confused. "Is it you? Where am I?"

At the same time, the demon head that fell on the ground began to laugh, and the laughter was filled with pride.

A suspicion suddenly arose in Guilliman's heart, his face twitched and his teeth began to chatter.

"How dare you—!" He growled, wanting to swing his sword again, but he couldn't bring himself to strike at that face.

"You might as well guess a little deeper, Roboute Guilliman. Why do I have her face? How about guessing about this?"

"You will never reach Macragge; my legions will tear you apart." Guilliman replied calmly, his hands trembling.

His reason led him to say this result, but what if the truth was not what his reason said? What if the truth is as chaotic and chaotic as what he is facing now, unable to be speculated and understood?

In case they really have

"Robert," Tarasha Euton began to call in agony. "They. They're everywhere. Macragge is destroyed. I'm sorry."

"Shut up!" Guilliman yelled, raising the blade again. "You filthy bastard! You think this is enough-"

"—Robert!" Tarasha Euton burst into tears and began to cry. "They're everywhere, why can't you protect me?"

Roboute Guilliman began to take a deep breath, holding his sword in his hand, alternating between hesitating and trying to swing it. The demon head on the ground looked at him expectantly, and dense insect joints had grown out of the wound.

Its head began to move towards Roboute Guilliman - it only took one last contact to defeat a Primarch, and it even had to laugh.

How stupid to create these powerful demigods and then give them weak human emotions that are so easy to manipulate.

It approached Robert Guilliman with a low smile, and one of its limbs had even caught on the original's ankle - it should have continued upwards, but unfortunately, a Fist assault craft interrupted its movement.

It came at high speed from the other end of the vacuum and crashed into the main bridge of Macragge's Glory, causing violent explosions and jolts. The emergency system began to function immediately. The superb design of the Mechanicus stabilized the indoor air pressure five seconds after the explosion. The mass of the assault boat itself also acted as a temporary obstacle, preventing people from being sucked into the external vacuum.

Fel Zalost floated out of the hatch of the assault boat like a ghost, his face was so pale that it was almost transparent, and there was nothing in his eyes except for two black flames.

He raised his hand, and the sword in his hand was thrown, and it accurately penetrated Tarasha Yudun's chest, and black blood and maggots splashed out.

The world stood still at this moment.

"Devil——!" he scolded, his voice like thunder.

Angry flames began to spread from the sword that penetrated the chest, and 'Talasha Yudon' began to scream. The demon's head also began to scream, and the form it left in place began to disintegrate little by little.

Robert Guilliman roared and swung the blade down, his eyes shining brightly again.

——

004.M31, Calth ground, plain outside Leptis Numinas.

"Do it," Van Cleef said.

They began to charge out of the thick fog. This was an environment created by the enemy. It was bitingly cold and thick, as if it were some kind of living thing. It was difficult for ordinary people to move in it. But who says Night Blade can't use it?

A gloomy blue began to flash. The Word Bearers were not expecting this attack, but this was far from the end. The sound of bolter fire began, and the scarlet figure immediately fell.

After the first minute and twenty-three seconds of the attack, the bulk of the Word Bearers' forces became aware of an attack on their rear. Some people began to change direction and rush toward Night Blade, but they had already disappeared.

Two minutes later, the Word Bearers' artillery position reported the attack. Violent chain explosions began to occur continuously, spreading from the first artillery position to the sixth artillery position. No one was spared. The originally continuous artillery offensive immediately came to a halt.

The Word Bearers arrived again, but the attacker was still not caught.

Their commander, Hall Belos, angrily realized the true intentions of the attackers and ordered everyone to move closer to the tanks and armored vehicles.

Five minutes later, the cultist position they used as cannon fodder and self-destruction troops was blown up to the sky.

"What the hell is going on?!" Hall Bellows yelled at the communications officer.

He soon found out.

"Prepare to charge," Van Cleef said.

Forty-three minutes later, wrapped in thick fog, the Word Bearers' tank position was destroyed by a series of explosions that should not have occurred. After another ten minutes, Hall Belos and his personal guards who tried to evacuate were stopped by Van Cleef, Siani and 600 night blades in the thick fog.

"Where are you going, cousin?" Van Cleef asked softly. "Didn't you hear Chapter Master Marius Gage's invitation to you? He asked you to go find him."

Hall Bellos responded by barking orders for his troops to open fire, which he refused, but it didn't matter because Van Cleef made another decision for him.

He took his head into the underground of the old palace of Leptis Numinas to meet Marius Gage.

There is one more chapter.