40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 444 170 Intervals: Reignition (3)

Chapter 444 170. Interlude: Reignition (3)

"They do not want victory," Fulgrim told his brothers softly. "These things are just appearances. What they really want is sacrifice. Tactical, military, and mobilizing troops. They don't care about any of these things. They just want to offer sacrifices to their gods."

No one answered his words, only Ferrus Manus cast a gloomy glance. The dark bloody light in the sky dimly pressed down on their heads, bringing a kind of depression that ordinary people could not bear.

Fatigue, thirst, and hunger haunt everyone, whether you are an Astartes or a mortal, this feeling is roaring in every part of the body.

You need to pay attention to this issue! They roar. Give us food, give us drink, give us rest!

And they have nothing to give.

The volcano cannon began to roar and continued to roar. It had been ringing for eleven minutes.

Rewinding time to an unrecoverable three hours, two Primarchs arrived with their respective armies.

On one side are the Dark Angels and Space Wolves led by Leon El'Jonson, as well as the remnants of other troops and legions. On the other side were Sanguinius and his sons, and those who were inspired to join them along the way.

So, a question will be raised at this moment. Where is this place? Where is this place?

No one can give an answer, because this place is just a wasteland. Apart from the wreckage and ruins left by the war, there is nothing but a sneaky demonic realm shrouded in darkness.

Would it be too ridiculous to say that this is their destination and the location of the Star Torch?

The Fortress is a majestic complex located in the Himalayas. The Star Torch Hall is located on the highest floor of the Fortress of Impasse, and is guarded so tightly that no one in the world can even imagine it.

How could it have become such a dilapidated ruin?

But the fact is the fact. As long as you close your eyes, you can see the light of the star torch shining gently, extremely dim, as if it will be blown out by the breeze in the next second.

So they began to wait here - to be more precise, they were waiting here in compliance with Leon El'Jonson's order.

The Lion revealed the reason only to his brother, but no one else really needed a reason. They are all tired, even the Dark Angels.

The timers in their helmets indicated that they had been in the war for less than five hours, but their bodies said otherwise. Could only five hours of fighting wear down an Astartes with tight knees and stiff muscles?

The answer dissipated in the wind together with the murmurs of the dead, and what rose next was the simple thought of just obeying the order.

Just give us the order, sir. The soldiers said this to their commander. The Commander turned to others, to the Astartes, who turned to their captains, their brothers, and ultimately to the Primarch.

And the original body's order is to wait here.

So, what else is there to say?

Of course, it's worth the wait. Because just thirty minutes ago, three other Primarchs arrived here.

Fulgrim, Ferrus Manus, Jaghatai. So many primarchs, so many armies.

The organization of the auxiliary corps was reorganized, and the infantry regiments and armored divisions once again had full strength. The commander began to look for the gunner, the loader began to volunteer, and the infantry began to ask each other who had any cigarettes left.

The Iron Hands reported to their father and rejoined the company. The Imperial Fists opened their hands, allowing servitors to inspect their armor, and spontaneously formed into battle formation again. The White Scar motorcycles were roaring, the Blood Angels began to slowly gather, and the huge army of the First Legion occupied the entire position in darkness.

They all knew in their hearts that it was now.

So Leon El'Jonson ordered the volcano cannon to aim somewhere and start bombarding. There was no door there until the first stream of light belonging to the volcano cannon hit. The ashes suddenly rose up, and the hot white light hit a door that had been destroyed long ago.

The brilliance of gold suddenly appeared from the scattered ashes, and the torrent of the volcano's cannon seemed to power it rather than try to destroy it. Half a minute later, the entire giant door appeared, twenty-five meters high.

The emperor looked at them with his eyes closed and looked at them with pity on his face, holding a sword in one hand and a scale in the other.

This miraculous scene quickly aroused turbulent waves in the crowd. Some people shed tears, some clenched their weapons, some remained silent, but there were others who chose to talk to each other at this moment.

"The door will be opened soon," said the Lion.

He held the spear tightly, but closed his eyes and didn't look at anyone.

"But we have no way of knowing ahead of time what's in it," Sanguinius replied worriedly.

"I can serve as the vanguard." Khan smiled reservedly and patted the handle of the White Tiger sword.

"You always want to play forward, Jaghatai, but not this time." The Lion sternly declined his brother's offer. "I don't want to use conventional tactics, and I don't want them to use speed to tear apart our enemies as usual. Just like Sanguinius said, we don't know what exists behind this door."

Chagatai thought for a moment and then nodded. He stroked his long beard gently and asked, "So, how should this matter be decided?"

"Let's run over." The lion opened his eyes and said. "We will not disperse our operations, separate infantry regiments from armored divisions, and do not stage a scene where the Astartes go deep alone and the auxiliaries provide fire cover behind them. We have Titans and all kinds of heavy firepower that still have enough ammunition. They can only be destroyed by Forced to face us from the front.”

"Very well," Ferrus Manus said grimly. "I like this strategic direction."

His gleaming silver hands were crossed in front of him and he held the Forgebreaker tightly. It was laid flat on the ground, with blood still wrapped around the hammer head.

"Perhaps." Fulgrim spoke again in a thoughtful tone. "We'll run into it again."

"Who?" Sanguinius asked.

"You will know." The Chemos man said, his tone sounded smiling, the edges of his long bone-white hair were still burning like embers, but there was no smile at all on his face. Then he looked at Ferrus Manus.

"If it does come up again, leave it to me."

Gorgon nodded gently: "But if it's another one, let me do it."

"Riddled talk." Jaghatai shrugged at the angel and the lion. "I suggest you get used to it as soon as possible. When the two of them talk about things now, almost only the other person can understand them, and I don't want to ask them to explain to me."

He told the joke to himself, then laughed and walked aside. The White Scars had already prepared his motorcycle.

"Flanks, Jaghatai!" the Lion shouted to him.

"I see."

The Khan replied calmly and drew his knife, placing it gently on the ground. He started dragging it until he was back in the car, its blade still engulfed in ash.

"Get ready," the lion said again.

His tone was ethereal, and his gaze was in the void. Sanguinius looked at him with confusion, not knowing to whom his brother was addressing. And that question no longer matters, because the door is already open.

Its opening is as silent as its appearance, as if it does not exist in reality. Under the continuous bombardment of incandescent beams, the golden door finally fell into darkness, and a bloody mist swept in.

The soldiers grabbed their weapons and went on alert. The tank's muzzle had begun to warm up. The lion looked sideways at his empty left hand side, and suddenly raised the lion sword and spear together.

A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, and Sanguinius suddenly felt something crawling up his spine. He frowned, and in that familiar shiver he saw the Emperor's face.

A face that was bleeding and crying.

"It's time, Sanguinius," he said with a smile. "I wish you a triumphant victory."

The father's face disappeared, and the angel raised his head wordlessly, only to see a spinning vortex appear in the burning sky.

He frowned and saw the shadows of several steel behemoths in the dark black storm. He wanted to say something, but the blood mist had completely engulfed this huge coalition army. When it disperses, the wasteland becomes barren again.

Only defenses and stacked toolboxes were left on the established position. There was not a single human figure left, and only the dead wind blew by.

——

Rogal Dorn took off one of his helmets and looked inside. This helmet was not any model he was familiar with, and he found an acquired sandwich on the right side of the helmet.

Dorn pressed lightly with his fingers, and the sandwich popped open on its own. A folded parchment roll fell out, and he reached out to catch it steadily. He slowly unfolded it and began to read it carefully, memorizing every name on it.

There is no serial number, no military rank, just a name and a short self-introduction. Sometimes it was a roll of parchment, sometimes a piece of iron, sometimes a fragment of bone. The inside of the helmet is a chosen location, but is also sometimes found on the inside of the shoulder armor.

The breeze blew by, and the blood red had not bothered him for at least three centuries, but day and night no longer rotated, and only the night and the moon existed above his head.

He returned the helmet, then stood up, bent down, and dragged the red and blue body into a sand pit he had dug in advance.

Dorn naturally knows how to dig a qualified tomb. Although he does not have the right tools on hand now, this does not prevent him from creating some - he made a simple shovel out of some fragments of Astartes armor. .

It had no handle, but it was adequate for the tasks Dorn had designed it to do.

The wind whistled, and the stubborn stone turned around from the front of the buried tomb and walked towards the next body. His steps were determined and without hesitation, until there was a special smell in the wind.

Rogal Dorn suddenly turned his head and began to look at the boundless red sand.

He smelled promethium fire.

update completed.

The following plot can be cherished for a while and watched again during the Chinese New Year. In that case, the viewing experience will be much better.

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