40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 318 38. Blood of Calth (Ten, 4.6k)

004.M31, Calth ground, hell.

Ventanus completed a data deduction in twenty-three minutes. They were no longer in the city of Rude Province and had already moved underground. This was a helpless move, but it was also one of the best choices.

After the demon named Samus was exiled, more Word Bearers came. And whether it was Ventanus or Shen, they didn't think that continuing to fight on the surface like this would bring any good things - just as Shen said not long ago, the Word Bearers have Titans.

We have them too, but I can't contact them. Ventanus thought.

He took a deep breath, picked up the data board, and began to carefully compare the Calth map stored in the data board with his memory one by one. For Astarte's memory, this matter seemed a bit redundant. But Ventanus didn't care about it.

After a few minutes, the comparison was completed, and he immediately raised his head and put forward his own inference to Shen.

"We must meet up with Captain Gage. Leptis Numinas is located in the middle of Calth. The broadcast has been sent out. Any Imperial army that receives the message will go there to gather. Under the current circumstances, I think this is the best plan."

The Ultramarines said this while standing in a safe house that was temporarily activated in the underground cave.

He was surrounded by scattered materials. The Calth people did not make any plans for today, but Robert Guilliman did.

He wrote a lot of rules and regulations that needed to be followed for this project that had not yet officially started. Under the influence of these rules, a large number of safe houses were built and deployed in the underground cave.

For the current army, the safe house has everything they need, even communication equipment, but it is a pity that it is simple and cannot afford long-distance communication, let alone contacting the troops of Leptis Numinas in the current Calth environment.

Shen nodded expressionlessly. He has been like this since Samus was exiled. Although he is a serious person, Ventanus can still subtly perceive some changes from it.

So he directly told more details of the plan.

"But, as I said before, the underground cave system of Calth has not been officially activated, and they are not even connected." He picked up the data tablet and tapped it twice with his finger, zooming in on a coordinate. He pointed at it and said seriously: "This means that we can only advance about eleven kilometers before we have to return to the ground. We lack vehicles, and there are probably not many shelters on the ground to hide. We will experience many fierce battles, Shen." Shen nodded at him, still not speaking. "Do you have any objections to this?" "I do." Shen answered in an orderly manner. "If possible, I would like to apply for airdropped armored forces to attack all the Word Bearers along the way with us. I also want to apply for orbital bombardment to let them deal with the Titans who stand on the same side as the Word Bearers so that we can easily kill these bastards." Ventanus's face twitched, and he seemed to be trying to suppress his smile. "But you and I both know that what I said is just fantasy. The Word Bearers did something terrible to the sun not long ago. We don't know the specific reason, but it's not good. They are even continuing to bomb the ground, which means that the orbit of Calth is also occupied by them. Our hope of winning this war is very slim, Ventanus." Shen leaned against the wall, stared down at his helmet, and said so. His tone did not sound any fluctuation. Even when he was recounting such a horrible fact, he was unmoved. Ventanus looked at him with appreciation, and in his heart he already knew what Shen would say next. "But it's not that there is no chance." Shen raised his head and came to the table where Ventanus was standing. He reached out and took the data board and entered a search data: ground weapon array. After a short delay, thousands of locations were immediately marked on the map. Ventanus finally laughed, but soon returned to seriousness. "The orbital weapons platform is probably completely destroyed, and those on the ground are probably only one in ten, but we only need to find one that is still usable to temporarily reverse the situation. We still have the strength to fight. Ordinary ships cannot resist the weapon array of Calth."

"Indeed." Shen said. "But I am actually more worried about something else, Ventanus. I believe you can see that we and you."

He paused for a moment and began to brew words. The Ultramarines waited patiently, without urging or interrupting. Shen gave the second half of the sentence after a moment, which was very unusual and showed his caution.

".Not quite the same." Nightblade said.

"What I mean by not quite the same is not the difference in tactical style, the difference in personal weapon selection, or the difference in origin, accent, appearance, or even genetic father between you and me. We are Astartes, but Astartes is not all our responsibility."

"Therefore, we know some things that we should not know. Based on this information, I can infer the next tactical purpose of the Word Bearers."

"What tactics do they have?" Ventanus shook his head. "They have absolutely no military logic at all. No army would fight like they do when 'victory' is the prerequisite."

"Yes, you made the point. But that's exactly what they need." Shen picked up the helmet and hung it back on his waist. "They don't need logic because everything they do on Calth is a sacrifice."

Ventanus frowned, remembering what the Word Bearers sergeant had said.

"This is not the kind of sacrifice you are used to, not the kind of sacrifice people in the wild world worship ominous weather or worship imaginary gods. The blood of each person they killed has a clear direction. The blood of these people Pain, hatred and the desire for revenge before death also have clear directions."

"They have killed so many and are still not satisfied, and the battle of Calth will never end until there is complete death between us and them."

"But, here's the problem. The Word Bearers won't waste all their time on us. I wish they would, but they won't. As the traitor named Hobel said, they must still have "Big Troop"

Shen tapped on the table and put forward an inference with absolute rationality and a tone very similar to that of the Ultramarines.

"They will go to Terra, Ventanus, they will attack Terra directly."

Nared Ventanus thought seriously for a moment and raised his objection.

"But what about the other legions and the Primarch? They can't possibly be unresponsive to this. Even if the Warmaster - no, Horus really rebels and sides with Lorgar Aurelion, with just the two of them, How is it possible to break into the solar system?"

Shen's answer to this was a sad smile.

"The galaxy is vast, Ventanus," Nightblade said slowly. "The transmission of news is time-sensitive. Just as we are talking, several wars may have started. You know, sometimes it is far worse to win over than to eradicate. Who knows what Horus will choose?"

"...I still object." The Ultramarine replied seriously. "I don't believe the likes of Sanguinius, Rogal Dorn, and Vulkan would betray the Empire."

Shen didn't argue anymore, just said: "Then let's take this as a bet. First, we kill or drive away all the Word Bearers, and then we set off to Terra. At that time, who is the right party? , just look at it and you’ll know.”

I hope I lose this bet. Thinking silently.

——

004.M31, Terra, deep inside the palace.

Khalil Lohars raised his hand and grasped a chess piece.

It was quite delicate, completely black, and looked like a wandering ghost, with its arms folded into its cuffs, its face made of pale bones, and its empty eye sockets sparkling. He picked it up, but held it back from the chessboard just yet.

The bearer sat across from him, his eyes sparkling. He waited for a moment, but Kalil still didn't drop the chess piece. His eyebrows were furrowed, and the pair of eyes beneath them showed a burning black color.

"I can't think of how to make a move." After a long time, he spoke slowly. "This chess piece."

He sighed and turned it over. In an instant, it changed its appearance.

It was a pitch-black figure with a broken crown on its head, and its existence was composed of pitch-black flames with hints of scarlet. The hateful dead were roaring for revenge in the darkness behind it, and there were countless bones at their feet.

Malcador reached out and took it, placing it outside the chessboard. Faced with Khalil's slightly questioning look, the palm-printer just shook his head gently.

"It doesn't belong on the chessboard." Macado reached out and turned the chess piece over again, returning it to its original appearance. "It exists outside the chessboard, Khalil, you should understand this. And once it steps off the chessboard, it can never go back to what it was before."

"I understand," Khalil said. "But I have a way."

"You always have, just like him. You two, and I, we always say this." Makado finally laughed.

"First use one word to express opposition and a turning point, and then tell the other person in a calm tone, 'I have a solution.' Do you really have one, Khalil?"

"I really do."

"real?"

".real."

Malcador quietly raised the corners of his mouth to show his victory. He patted the table, and the scene on the chessboard suddenly took on a new look. The cards returned to the pile, and the chess pieces returned to the field to wait. Immediately afterwards, the palmer actually reached out and took away the card pile.

"You're not going to play anymore?"

"No, just going to play another version."

After the palm-printer finished speaking, the chessboard began to change its appearance. The large area of ​​black and white turns the entire chessboard into two opposing colors, with Khalil as white and Machado as black.

Black moves first.

The one holding the seal slowly made his move. The first one he sent was the chess piece called God's Chosen One, which was shining with golden light, but there was boundless darkness lurking inside. Then came the second piece, called the Lord of Hearts, who was wearing armor and was noble. Incomparable.

"it's your turn."

"So, in this version, everyone can drop two stones and move twice at once?" Khalil asked.

"No, only I can." Malcador shook his head. "Actually, under this version, the rules are dictated by me."

Khalil smiled helplessly and dispatched a chess piece, the Uncrowned King.

He wears a laurel wreath on his head, and there seems to be a furnace burning in his chest. Malcador smiled and pushed the Lord of Hearts forward one space, and then placed the Chosen One in front of the Uncrowned King.

It was Khalil's turn again. He stretched out his hand and grasped another chess piece. It was a ghost in darkness, holding a pitch-black blade, and hundreds of blood-stained sharp blades suspended behind him, seemingly as a guard.

"The Lord of Blades," Malcador said. "A tough opponent, but, like I said, I make the rules."

He placed a chess piece called the Twin, a very abstract chess piece with no details at all, and it was even impossible to tell whether the hands, feet, or pros and cons were distinguishable, but it had a thousand faces. It stepped onto the chessboard, split into two in the blink of an eye, and then disappeared.

Then there is the Perfect One, a chess piece made of purple and gold, wearing a cloak and covered with patterns, the most gorgeous. Malcador placed it in the path of the Lord of Hearts.

Khalil narrowed his eyes and protested once: "I remember-"

"——I make the rules." Macado said, reaching out and tapping the chess pieces. "Now, you can't use this piece until a certain moment comes."

He reached his right hand towards the pile of cards and took out the first card, which was a painful figure in an apothecary's robe, seemingly screaming.

He placed it next to the Perfect One and turned it over. The card instantly changed and turned into a bloody land covered with dark clouds. The back of the Perfect One was looming in it. He was bound by shackles and faced a large group of abstract shadows. .

A line of small words is faintly visible in the upper right corner of the card.

Khalil read it.

"A big mistake has been made."

He raised his head, looked at Malcador, then looked at the stack of cards, and sighed: "Aren't you being a bit too rogue, Malcador?"

The palm-printer smiled and didn't answer, and just motioned for him to continue playing chess.

Sighing, Khalil stretched out his hand and sent out the 'Gladiator'. It was a chess piece covered in bruises and without weapons. Its main body was made of a blood-colored mottled material. At a glance, it looks like the chess piece itself is bleeding.

He put the gladiator on the path of the Lord of Hearts and wanted to stop there, but Malcador actually signaled him to take another step.

"How arbitrary are your rules?" Khalil couldn't help but ask. "How many steps can I take per round?"

"It depends." The palm printr coughed. "my thoughts."

So he reached out and sent Shadow, a huge raven, sitting on top of a broken skull. It began to fight alongside the Gladiators to resist the Lord of Hearts.

The Palmist smiled and took out a card again. He did not put it down immediately, but first moved the Gladiator and Shadow a little further away. Then, he reached out from Khalil's pile of chess pieces and took out the Dark Cloud. Lord, three chess pieces: Anvil and Silent Steel.

He put them together with the Lord of Hearts, and then dropped the card.

Khalil stared at it, silent.

"Betrayal," Malcador said, cards sparkling on the board.

On the bloody muddy battlefield, several people stood side by side, facing the wolves watching in the dark with their bare hands. Each of them was stabbed in the back.

He stretched out his hand again and took out the second card, which was a human face full of doubts.

"Suspicion."

Khalil pursed his lips and stretched out his hand, but Malcador raised his finger and shook it at him: "My round is not over yet."

He stretched out his hand, moved the Gladiator, Shadow, Anvil and Silent Steel away, and placed a card at the feet of the Lord of Clouds.

He flipped the cards over, and the pieces flipped with them, changing instantly. A large group of dark green clouds obscured the Lord of Clouds, and the card turned into an emerging chrysalis.

"How should you deal with it next?" the palmer asked softly.

Khalil didn't answer. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Along with his movements, a force changed the chessboard.

A blue planet that did not exist in reality began to appear at the end of his white chessboard. He opened his eyes and placed the floating ghost on the planet. He then reached over to the deck, pulled out a card, and showed it to Malcador.

It was a man laughing loudly in the fire.

"Sacrifice." Malcador read it, his expression as calm as ever. "Are you really determined to do this?"

Khalil said nothing, but stood up from his chair.

"Let's go." He went to the door and gently waved to the person holding the seal.

"Where to go?"

"Go and see the progress of his construction."

The holder of the seal reluctantly reached out and picked up the scepter and walked out with him. At the same time, he still did not forget to complain: "You are always like this. When you play chess to a certain level, you start to be unwilling to continue. We obviously haven't finished the game yet."

"My chess skills are poor, my friend." Khalil replied with a slight smile.

update completed.

Angel, my angel—