40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 333 53. Sea of ​​Blood (5k)

Angron had met Horus Luperkar many times.

From a blood perspective, they are brothers. Although they have different looks and different origins, they do all inherit the blood of the Emperor. This is quite interesting considering the huge differences between them.

You see, Horus Luperkar was from Cosonia, he was a gangster, and that mark was very evident on him. And what about Angron? He was a gladiator, savage, and had to be savage.

The brilliance of the Wolf Shepherd God has been heard even in the wild frontiers of the empire, but the Lord of the Twelfth Legion is quite low-key. No chronicler could interview him in a true sense, and people even knew far better about war dogs than he did.

This difference is astonishing, and is not entirely due to the environment in which they were raised. But none of that mattered, for Angron always respected his brother.

Until now.

Until he boarded the Vengeful Spirit.

Karn was the first to notice something strange about Angron, noticing that his primarch was gently rubbing his teeth.

At first, he thought it was the Butcher's Nails. The accursed instrument of torture tortured the Primarch of the Warhounds forever, but he himself regarded this pain as a part of his glory.

But he soon discovered that this might not be the case, because the Spirit of Vengeance was a bit too dark and smelly.

This stench brought back some memories buried deep in Kahn's memory. He couldn't help gritting his teeth and looking around, he found that people who had experienced the same thing as him had similar expressions.

Then he knew that this was not his illusion.

With a glimmer of hope, Karn raised his head to look at his primarch, and Angron stared down at that moment. When their eyes met, the silent communication was complete.

They remained silent, and the Primarch Guard, a total of five hundred people, escorted Angron forward slowly. The Son of Horus who led them still maintained his demeanor and introduced them to everything along the way with a proud attitude, as if he was not aware of the slightly stagnant atmosphere.

They walked all the way until they reached the palace of the Wolf Shepherd God.

This place is bright and white, honor is everywhere, and every flag has its blood stained certificate. The light belonging to the stars was reflected by the glass above the head and turned into a pale golden light under the careful design of skilled craftsmen, shining on the throne.

Ivory, gold, silver. These worldly exaggerations have become fascinating under the light of their owners. A mortal king needs these to show his identity, but he doesn't need to, he is the king himself.

Horus Luperkar sat on the throne, he was smiling, his face was better than any decoration. Surrounded by wolves, the elites were fully armed to add majesty to their father, but none of this could compare to the Wolf God himself.

He doesn't even need to speak, as long as he exists, he is the most dazzling person in this royal court.

Angron finally breathed out a breath slowly.

"No," he muttered, lowering his head. The Butcher's Nail began to squirm due to the host's emotional reaction, and its ends danced wildly, reflecting light.

"brother!"

Horus stood up from the throne enthusiastically, stepped on the steps, and walked down quickly. His steps were firm but fast. Before he reached Angron, he had already opened his arms, as if to give him a hug.

Faced with such good intentions, the leader of the Twelfth Legion raised his hand and stopped him.

"What's the matter, brother?" Horus asked in confusion.

His brilliance remained the same, and the starlight followed him inexplicably, turning his face into a hazy and dreamy one. Angron shook his head slowly without explaining, and his guards began to disperse spontaneously.

He took steps and walked to Horus. The two Primarchs began to look at each other, one with a smile and an unchanging face, the other with sadness. After a moment, Angron spoke first and broke the silence.

"I saw the Emperor's Pride in your fleet. Is Fulgrim there too?"

"Of course he is, brother," said Horus. "It's just that we had a little quarrel. He didn't quite agree with the tactics I wanted to use on Istvan III."

"Where is he?"

"He is here, Angron." The Wolf Shepherd replied with a smile.

"My question is, where is he?" Angron said word by word. "Answer me, Horus."

"Why do we have to get to the bottom of it?" The Shepherd God looked at him inquiringly. The atmosphere around him had already begun to change because of these two short conversations, but no one dared to speak out to stop the change in the atmosphere at this time.

The dogs of war did not want to, but the Sons of Horus did not dare.

Angron stopped asking questions, and a little blood gradually filled his blue eyes. Horus frowned, and his expression gradually calmed down from confusion.

"I don't seem to know you well enough, brother." Horus said. He stared at Angron, his face seemed calm at this moment.

"Indeed." Angron said. "You know very little about me. You don't know what I've been through."

"Are you referring to the fact that you were once a lowly slave?"

"No." Angron shook his head and ignored Horus's taunt.

If someone could look closely at this moment, they could even find a trace of a sneer mixed with pity and sadness on his twitching face.

After a few seconds, Horus sighed regretfully but resolutely.

"It seems that you have made up your mind." Wolf Shepherd said. "But before we begin, I want to make one last push. Listen to me, Angron."

He looked earnestly at his brother.

"No matter what you're going to do, you're not going to succeed. Trust me, okay?"

To this, the Lord of Warhounds responded with a simple, direct punch.

The cold gauntlet hit directly on the chest of the Wolf Shepherd God, and the metal struck with a loud sound. The attacks of the warhounds followed, and the gunfire was loud, but the Sons of Horus behaved not at all like themselves.

Few of them had foreseen this in advance. Although they had several times the number of war dogs, they could not even organize a complete offensive within the first half minute of the battle.

In an instant, Luperkar's royal court turned into a cruel battlefield.

This should have been a shocking and outrageous situation for the owner of the Vengeful Spirit, but Horus was laughing. He stood there as if nothing was wrong, and Angron's punch could not even repel him half a step.

"Protect the Warmaster!" one of the Sons of Horus roared, and the wolves rushed toward them, only to be blocked by a rain of death.

Angron still stood there without saying a word. He was unarmed - the primarch's weapons were not convenient for a meeting, and he did not even bother to draw his ceremonial sword. But it doesn't matter, he still wants to fight.

He rushed towards Horus, who stood quietly and slowly lowered his head. The next second, just when Angron's fist was about to touch Horus again, a burst of black mist swept in, completely wrapping him and the war dogs.

When the fog cleared, they were gone.

The wolves were confused by the disappearance of their enemy. Ezekiel Abaddon rushed towards his primarch, but the Wolf God had returned to his throne.

"Don't worry." His voice echoed in the royal court, carrying some kind of overlapping echo. "Send my order and prepare to deal with the gang members."

Gang hopping?

The wolves looked at each other, but Horus was no longer in the mood to explain.

He looked sideways at the left port window. Behind the orbit of Istvan III, a fleet was slowly emerging from behind the planet. The leading battleship was Corvus Corax's flagship, the Emperor's Fleet. film.

——

The black fog cleared, and Angron stood up slowly and silently. He and his bodyguard have moved far away from Luperkar's court, but are still within the Spirit of Vengeance. He glanced around and came to this conclusion in less than half a second, and at the same time made a follow-up plan.

But he also sensed something else.

The original body turned his head and began to stride forward in a certain direction, his blue eyes filled with far greater anger than before.

With shoulder collisions and punches, he used sheer force to destroy the many barriers on the lower deck. Cables were ripped off casually, and metal was crushed into pieces with his bare hands and thrown to the ground.

The Warhounds followed, not asking Angron what his intentions were. It didn't have to be that way - once the war started, the Warhounds would only be Warhounds.

They moved forward, and after Angron broke through the eighth deck, they saw an altar.

The ceiling was covered with corpses hanging upside down, and the floor was covered with bones. A rough but huge eight-pointed star was pieced together by corpses in the center of the secret room, and supernatural blood-red light flickered on it like breathing.

The Lord of the War Dogs silently waved his arms, and the fire rain was launched from behind him with boundless rage, destroying the fallen altar in an instant.

But this was not the end. Angron closed his eyes. In the resonance of pain and talent feedback, the dead were telling him their experiences in soft voices.

They had been servants of the Emperor and the Warmaster, sharing the glory of the Sons of Horus on this ship, but not anymore. Now, they are just dead people, sacrifices, corpses that no one cares about.

But this was not enough, he began to continue to amplify his suppression of his talent, and extremely thick blood rolled down from his nose. The Lord of the Twelfth Legion silently opened his eyes after a few seconds and looked up.

His eyes passed through metal and darkness at this moment and arrived at someone's side.

"Find a road, let's go up." Angron said. "My brother needs help."

"Horus?"

"No, Kahn." Angron lowered his head. "It's Fulgrim."

——

what happened?

Gavir Loken stopped running and his breathing became slightly faster.

He could vaguely sense that some changes were taking place on the Vengeful Spirit. He looked at the dark corners and found that they had become thicker. At the same time, there was a faint sound behind him.

Loken turned around suddenly and found that the path he came from had completely disappeared. The connecting arch of the eighth deck disappeared, replaced by a completely twisted spiral staircase. The realization made him take a step back, causing him to bump into someone.

"Your ship is truly extraordinary, cousin," Acudona said.

"it"

"Don't explain it to me, Captain Loken, the first priority is to find a way to the infirmary." said the Second Captain of the Emperor's Children.

He was not unarmed, Loken managed to recover weapons and armor for the surviving Emperor's sons. The careful planning these days has finally paid off, and his plan with Togaton is actually very simple.

As soon as the meeting begins, the plan is to liberate the Emperor's Children. They were not the only two of the Sons of Horus who were aware of the current madness of the Legion. After some careful contact and testing, more than 700 people joined their ranks.

The number is not large, but it is completely sufficient for their plan - therefore, they will spread out and take the emperor's sons to the major hangars and boarding decks. As long as there is a force that can leave smoothly, then everything will be worth it.

The team of Loken and Acudona also have other tasks. They will try their best to rescue Fulgrim.

"I understand." Loken took a deep breath, turned around and started running.

Twenty men of his company followed him, and one hundred and thirty-one of the emperor's sons. Silent, sad, and full of rage.

They moved forward on the eighth deck, and soon realized what changes had taken place here - every corridor would move after they passed by it, and what appeared in front of them was not necessarily the road that Loken was familiar with.

There is also a big problem with their sense of space. In their perception, the entire eighth deck seems to have become a huge whirlpool. Even if they don't move, it will rotate on its own. After another five minutes of blind progress, Loken decisively called a halt to the operation.

He made a tactical gesture, and the Emperor's Children immediately understood his intention - how ironic, they were once so close as brothers that even the tactical gestures were common to each other.

It was difficult for Loken to describe what he was feeling at this moment. He forced himself to put aside distracting thoughts and began to call Tarik Torgadun in a newly created communication channel.

The latter answered his call a few seconds later, his voice accompanied by a strong current of noise. The communication within the ship should not be like this. It was obvious that they were severely interfered with. And this interference isn't just in communications.

Loken's heart sank suddenly.

"We are heading to Hangar 21." Togaton said at the other end of the channel. "Also, I have some bad news for you, Lorcan."

"What?"

"I didn't see a single person along the way."

"Me too, Tariq."

"It seems that our plan was seen through by him early on?" Tarik Torgadun chuckled twice.

He was trying to joke, and Lorcan could hear his intentions in the two monotone laughs. He didn't answer, just breathed calmly. Half a second later, his brother's voice sounded again.

"It's so hard to always be right, man," Torgadun muttered. "However, I will not become an accomplice to the evildoer. Horus is doing something he would never do before. His behavior is not only beyond the law, but also beyond morality. We will never follow blindly, Loken , even if he is the father.”

"Even if he is the father." Loken repeated. "So what are you going to do?"

"According to the original plan, no matter what he wants to do, there is only one way for us to go."

"clear."

Loken hung up the communication, and Acudona looked at him as if waiting for an answer. He looked around and realized that everyone was waiting for his orders, not just his own brothers, but the Emperor's Children as well.

After a moment, Acudona made a series of tactical gestures. Lorcan smiled behind his helmet and returned the favor with a firm fist pump.

They set out again.

——

"Father." A man whispered, standing on the other side of the sea.

Fulgrim knew him, how could he not?

Phoenix stood there, the water was bumpy and the wind and waves were strong. The sky turned a crazy pink-purple, with blood-red clouds hovering above it, staring at him like huge eyes. Lightning continued to strike in the sea not far away, stirring up huge waves one after another.

Everything is crazy, everything is impossible to look at. Fulgrim looked at the figure in purple and gold armor and responded to his call after a moment.

"Eidolon." He walked slowly towards him and read his name. "Do you understand what you are doing?"

"Father." The man called, not answering his question.

Fulgrim slowly approached and gradually saw his face clearly.

It was a face that had nothing to do with the Eidolon he remembered. The skin was as pale as a death, with traces of trauma and unclean diseases covering it. Six pharmaceutical connections were inserted deeply into his chin and neck, and drugs of unknown composition were injected.

His hair is sparse and remains on the side of his scar-covered forehead, like a shadow and an echo of his past glory, but it can only make people disgusted.

The most unsightly thing was his eyes. What reflected in those eyes was not the love for his father, but another kind of love.

Fulgrim was familiar with that kind of love. He had experienced this look countless times long ago when he was a worker on Chemos.

"Father." Eidolon stopped his ethereal calling, and his withered lips curved slightly, revealing a smile. He looked at the naked Phoenix and unconsciously ran his tongue over his teeth.

"I have been waiting for this day for too long, father." He said affectionately. "Remember the old days, Father? We would be there for each other—"

"Shut up." Phoenix interrupted him with twitching eyes, more disappointed, ashamed and disbelieving than angry.

He couldn't believe how his descendant could become so depraved, low-level, and nasty. Moreover, this person was Eidolon. It was Eidolon the Paragon, the first Son of the Emperor whom he personally promoted.

After all these years, Eidolon had never failed him.

"You look so attractive even when you are angry." Eidolon said boldly.

Phoenix did not answer this sentence. He endured the discomfort and observed Eidolon. The latter showed himself openly, but did not notice that the disgust in Fulgrim's eyes was getting stronger and stronger - maybe he noticed, but this look only made him more happy.

After a few seconds, the Chemos man spoke slowly, his voice full of coldness.

"So this is what Tacitus warned me about." He clenched his fists and slowly approached Eidolon in the cold and biting water. "You're just a fake."

"But I stand before you, father," Eidolon said.

"Yes," Fulgrim said. "You know what else this means?"

"Excuse my stupidity?"

"You will die." Fulgrim roared and rushed towards him. At this moment, the water suddenly began to change color, turning from pitch black to a bloody red, with seductive pink looming underneath, and thousands of black shadows swimming. .

Eidolon laughed until he was out of breath and even lost his footing and fell. After a while, he stood up again. In the harbinger of the coming storm, Eidolon looked at his father possessively and said something.

"I want his head."

The sea water stirred, and more shadows slowly stood up from under it.

Two more chapters.