40k: Midnight Blade

If the time displayed on his eyepiece was correct, then three hours and eleven minutes had passed since the war came to Litatra.

Zell captured this time and silently set up a twenty-five-hour countdown through the neural connection.

At the same time, the ground suddenly began to tremble, and the streets and building complexes in the second district of Litatra began to collapse unstoppably as if they were struck by a natural disaster. The earth cracked, gravel fell, and underground pipes that transported energy There was also an explosion

Natural and man-made disasters, demons running rampant, everything happened quietly just as Horst said.

Zell understood that the situation had become dire, but the defense forces were still fighting. His hearing was so sensitive that he was able to pick up their shouts from dozens of meters away, which were drowned out by a series of disasters.

So, he stopped temporarily.

Want to support?

"Don't do that," a voice said to him. “The church needs us.”

Zell didn't answer him, but used his chainsword to disembowel a former civilian who had been corrupted by some force.

His pale and swollen skin was cut open easily by the chain sword, and what spewed out from underneath was not blood, but a foul-smelling brown liquid, with fragments of bone and flesh gurgling inside.

Zell drew out his sword, and the corpse fell limply to the ground, leaving a disgusting sticky mark on the stone steps in the small square in front of the church.

A panicked mother, holding her child in her arms, stepped over the body and ran behind Zell. The mixture of fear and gratitude in her eyes made Zell feel a little complicated.

Logically speaking, he should have prevented her from taking refuge inside the church, but he didn't do that. He just let her leave, then ran towards the next group of zombies and chopped them all into pieces.

A long time ago, he learned one thing - the power of chaos can also be used, but only one can be used.

That power is called rage.

In some places, it is reverently called the Wrath of the Undead, the Flame of Despair, and the Wave of Hatred.

Complex as smoke, and rich in religious and mythological overtones, but in the descendants of Konrad Curze, it is just a raging flame. It belongs to Chaos and is a direct manifestation of the power of a terrifying evil god, but it is also the natural enemy of other powers of Chaos.

No trace of demon or contamination can survive more than five seconds in the presence of this power, and it does little harm to the environment, it only kills the damned things.

This is a very convenient and very powerful power. There's probably only one problem with it.

You have to pay something to summon it and drive it.

However, one thing is very lucky - it is night time, and the priest of that church is named Horst, so every statue of the God-Emperor in it has another image.

Those civilians who managed to survive and took refuge inside probably would not understand why the Emperor turned into a black-robed ghost whose true appearance could not be seen, but they did not need to understand.

They'd better not understand.

They just need to stay alive.

As long as they enter the church, they can live. The power of that fragment can completely remove the chaos pollution from their bodies, whether it is a terrible virus, a slowly rising desire to kill, or an untimely terrible desire.

All of these will return to peace. Then, at some point, that peace will evolve into something entirely new.

That's why Zell set up that countdown.

He was not looking forward to the so-called 'moment of revenge' after the superposition of holy numbers, but simply a warning to himself.

He hoped to solve everything before twenty-five hours, and at least clear a place where civilians could take refuge, otherwise they would forever become——

Zell took a deep breath and swung his sword. Blood spattered, dyeing his eyepieces crimson.

——The same thing as us. he thinks.

"Stop being sentimental over there, Zell," the voice continued sarcastically. "How come you still haven't gotten rid of this deadly habit?"

"I'm just thinking, sir, can't your smart mind see that?" Zell put on a cheerful tone and sent back the sarcasm.

He is already a little helpless. This is why he is called "Sir", not out of respect, but because he can never stop sarcastic.

Or maybe it's because his name is too long.

Crostilian Taverelec is a typical aristocratic name, which is not very friendly to High Gothic. In order to make it easier to address him, the title "Sir" was pressed on his head.

Considering his origin, character and military rank, this nickname was tailor-made for him.

Yes, you guessed it right, every adult call is actually a subtle way of calling him a bastard.

The adult smiled: "Really? My smart mind thinks that you have been acting absent-minded. What, am I wrong? Or are you starting to struggle back and forth between duty and conscience again? Ah, your fragile humanity exudes Weakness tastes so absurd and ridiculous.”

"Sir, you really have a damn smart mind." Zell couldn't help but cursed angrily among the corpses.

Crostilian couldn't help laughing wildly at his curses. He was stationed on the right side of the circular square, and together with the executioner Slor, he dealt with the continuous attacks of demons.

This line of defense should have been shaky, but they had learned to use enemy corpses as bunkers many years ago. This is a simple and efficient practice that has a long history, probably dating back to the days when humans were still throwing stones at each other on Terra.

Behind them, stationed on the left side of the square, is 'Skull' Iharal, a battle brother who is obsessed with beheading powerful enemies. He is strong, but he has never been promoted because of this matter, but he doesn't seem to care much.

Zell is responsible for covering the refugees and taking care of their scout Akapatis who may return at any time.

He has only been a Shadow Knight for thirty-two years. According to common sense, he is not qualified to enter this team, but his talent is amazing, especially in stealth, tracking and creating fear.

The adults even joked that he might be a bit atavistic. This slightly insulting comment was unexpectedly recognized by Akapatis, so they began to call him a barbarian - a person who was completely incompatible with his personality and areas of expertise. The nickname above.

Zel liked him very much, so he very much hoped that the savage Akapatis would come back soon.

In a sense, his wish came true. A few minutes later, with a deafening roar, their recruits suddenly fell from the sky and hit the center of the small square hard, splashing a pool of gravel.

Fortunately, he didn't hit the running civilians.

Half a second later, his coughing sound came from the communication channel.

".I'm fine." The barbarian said while vomiting blood. "There was a big one coming and I tried to lure it away, but it was too fast."

"Skull!" The adult roared immediately. "Go kill it with Zell! Akapatis, get up and take over the skull's position, Slor, go pick up the refugees!"

No one answered, only a few quick shadows flashed by, and they implemented the order as quickly as possible. Zell slowed down slightly to wait for the skull to catch up.

In most cases, two people facing a strong enemy are much better than one person fighting alone. However, he wanted to wait, but his enemy would not.

The roar that had resounded once before was fleeting behind the diseased group of zombies, and a strong and huge black shadow shook the ground and rushed straight towards him.

Zell's pupils shrank and he immediately dodged to avoid it, but that thing, like a terrifying missile with an identification system, rushed towards him without hesitation, and all the walking corpses along the way were trampled into flesh. foam.

"Hit it on the head!"

Suddenly, the savage Acapatis shouted in the communication channel.

"I planted a bomb in its head!"

Why didn't you say something so important earlier? Zell's eyes twitched and he immediately pulled out the bolt gun from his waist.

At the same time, a strong gust of wind came from behind him, and Iharal passed him without a word, charging straight towards the thing.

Judging from the size of the two alone, this is not an even battle at all.

Iharal was only two and a half meters tall, but the thing was at least six meters tall. It was covered in muscles, and its strong limbs and entire body were covered with brass armor. Only part of the flesh and blood was exposed, and the red skin Sweat flowing like lava

This is a steel bull, and it is definitely no ordinary steel bull - where is its owner? do you died? It's better to be dead, it's better to be an ownerless steel bull.

Zell almost had a toothache. He had seen this thing topple a tank with his own eyes. if it crosses them

He immediately put aside this idea and started aiming with concentration.

In his field of vision, Iharal had silently jumped up, holding a simple power sword in his hands.

His opponent roared and lowered his head, already aiming the gleaming horn at Iharal's landing point.

Steel bulls are not stupid beasts. These hateful beasts have a fighting intuition that goes beyond instinct. Its small scarlet eyes are stuck between the armor plates, staring closely at Iharal, as if it has already seen him. of death.

And Zell saw more, such as the bomb that the injured Akapaitis was talking about.

He saw it very clearly. It was buried on the right side of the horn, staying calmly and leisurely in a small hole.

You are so laid back, little one.

Zell pulled the trigger, and the gunfire flashed away.

Iharal fell heavily to the ground, the armor on his chest was dented, but the sword in his hand was raised high, and a broken corner fell at his feet.

The steel bull roared and raised its front hooves, trying to trample Iharal to death in the pain of having its horn cut off, but it would no longer have this chance.

A bomb tore through the air and accurately hit the bomb stuck on its head.

The flames roared, and a black shadow flashed past at this moment. Iharal ran back without stopping, and hot blood poured out from his sunken chest.

The fire continued to spread, the air was swallowed up, and the explosion finally sounded at this moment. It was more terrifying than thunder, and it almost destroyed Zell's hearing. It took half a minute for his ears to return to normal.

Then, he heard Akapatis' laughter in the communication channel and the adult's curse: "If you do this again next time, I will skin you!"

"But I have made military exploits!" the recruit argued. "Don't I deserve a promotion?! I've wanted to visit Nostramo for a long time!"

"That's not a tour," the executioner said grimly. "It's a way to make up for a part of your missing responsibilities, but that's not a good thing. It's a chronic poison that can provide powerful power."

"Don't expect it to come. We should have already agreed on this."

His voice and words seemed to have magic power, instantly silencing Akapatis.

This is probably because Slor killed too many people. He has been focusing on anti-corruption in the hive city for sixty years, killing many signs of rebellion in the world.

He had outstanding achievements, but the price he paid was to become increasingly gloomy. This had almost become a disease, causing him to unconsciously start to stay away from the crowd and study some terrible skills day and night.

Zell did not want to make any comment on this matter. Even if Slor chose to go further, he would not point fingers - they all knew that the executioner would never cross that red line.

"Don't scare the child, Slor," the adult said cheerfully. "Okay, that thing is dead, we should think about what to do next, what do you think?"

Zell glanced at the direction he was in and found that he was stepping on a field of corpses, arrogantly spinning the power sword in his hand, deliberately showing a kind of pride and complacency.

Zell had guessed his purpose and what he wanted to do, so he began to follow the words: "We should move people out of the church."

"That's a good idea, but where should we move it?" the adult asked softly.

He had gone from turning his sword to swinging it, taking away a life with every swing. Whatever they were, they were all treated equally by his sword. His posture is very elegant, almost as if he is dancing a gorgeous killing waltz with the sword in his hand.

Zell frowned unbearably, took out his bolter with his backhand and fired an incendiary bomb at the other side - he really couldn't bear the nobleman's demeanor, and every time he saw it, he felt it was difficult to breathe.

Then he got a contemptuous snort.

"Is it too much for your fragile humanity to just ask a question, Zell?"

"Fuck you," Zell said. "There are two avengers sitting in the church, so it shouldn't be a problem. You, Slor and Iharal stay here and continue to guard the defense line. How about I go out and find a quiet place with our barbarians?"

"I have no objection." Akapatis responded to his proposal very quickly. He probably couldn't wait for it.

The adult chuckled, slowly walked out of the flames, and pierced a little devil who tried to sneak attack him with a backhand sword. The thing screamed and turned into a ball of ashes, and the ugly shape suddenly disappeared without a trace, as if it had never existed.

"I'm the captain, don't forget that, but what you said is fine, Zell. I agree with your proposal and the plan you haven't said yet."

"What's the plan?" Skull, who had remained silent, suddenly asked.

"What else could it be? It's just that our Paladin's innate sense of justice has taken the initiative again, and he wants to help the local defense forces."

The adult's comment seemed quite harsh, and he even shook his head to show his disdain. Despite this, the words he spoke next and the tone he used seemed very gentle.

"Let's do what we were meant to do, Zell," Crostilian Taverelec said. "Don't die, the great justice, the most humane Paladin."

"Understood, sir with a smart mind." Zell said. "I really want to punch you."

Amidst the laughter of the adults, Acapatis ran up to him in a hurry, not forgetting to stab a few zombies with his fist blade along the way, looking very aggressive.

Zell patted him on the shoulder, then turned around and turned into a black shadow that disappeared among the corpses and collapsed buildings. Akapatis followed closely behind him and never made any sound again. He had already entered the state.

They all are.

At this moment, there are still twenty-two hours and twenty-seven minutes left before the twenty-five-hour countdown comes.

——

Tujia took off his overcoat and walked to the side door of the church with his pistol in hand. His ears were filled with cries, shouts, and a steady stream of prayers.

To put it harshly, he felt like he was in a huge mental hospital, surrounded by all kinds of people who suffered mental disorders after suffering huge shocks.

So, what about him? Is he one of them?

Tujia wishes he was, but he really isn't.

He raised his gun, pushed the cart against the side door, and pulled it open.

A frightened woman rushed in with a child in her arms, followed by several men dressed as workers. They crawled and ran into the church, making the already very crowded little church even more crowded. narrow.

Tujia felt that in a short while, there might not even be a place for shadows to stay here.

He pushed the cart back, closed the side door, and started walking back. He never put down the gun in his hand and kept it held high.

It looks more like a deliberate intimidation than a standby posture ready to shoot at any time. Tujia is not sure if a riot will break out inside the church for a while, but he will try his best to prevent it from happening.

He walked under the pulpit where he was pushed and looked at the man lying on it with a pale face. This person was undergoing a simple suturing surgery without anesthesia.

He thought that the chief surgeon was a well-known but very low-key priest, but Tujia knew that the priest named Horst was actually a butcher who was proficient in slaughtering humans.

He watched as the butcher steadily threaded the needle and thread with his hands that showed no trace of holding a knife, completely suturing a dangerous laceration on his belly.

It is no exaggeration to praise him for his superb medical skills. The only problem is that the patient is almost dying of pain, but the doctor is completely lazy to pay attention to it.

After putting on the bandage, Horst pulled the man up and gently pushed him aside. Immediately afterwards, the next patient lay down consciously.

The injury was on his right arm. It looked like he had been hit by something heavy. The broken bone penetrated from the middle of the elbow, and the tendons were wrapped around it tenaciously, which made it look even more terrifying.

Tujia frowned and asked in a low voice: "Do I need to hold him down?"

"No need," Horst said.

His voice sounded very firm, even firm to the point of being a bit eerie.

Immediately afterwards, the investigator saw the determined priest fish out a silver statue of the Emperor from his neck. It was not the common statue of the Emperor's compassion, but a majestic face with angry eyes.

The priest reached out and grasped it, bowed his head, and began to pray in a soft voice.

Seeing this scene, Tujia's face twitched suddenly - he really didn't expect Horst to start praying, but what he didn't expect even more was that the priest's prayer actually succeeded.

A burst of golden light quietly fell from the fingers of the priest's right hand that held it, and drifted to the severed hand. With a flash of light, his arm returned to its original state.

The man jumped up from the overthrown pulpit in disbelief, and immediately knelt down, tears rushing down his dirty face. He began to praise the Emperor's gifts loudly and devoutly, dismissing the priests as nothing.

Horst ignored him, just stood up and looked around. After confirming that there were no more injuries that needed treatment, he walked into his back room with a gloomy face.

Tujia followed closely behind, followed him into it, and pulled out a knife from his waist.

"Give it back to you," Tujia said. "I'm fine now, you probably need them more than I do."

"No." Horst expressed his rejection without looking back.

He raised his hands and took off his black robe, then picked up a white priest's robe hanging on the coat rack and put it on.

Tujia couldn't help but wipe his forehead. He really couldn't turn a blind eye to this kind of thing - this was really weird and blasphemous. How could the priest of the God Emperor believe in another god at the same time?

Doesn’t the God-Emperor have any objections to this?

Even if He didn't, what about another God? Doesn't he have any objection?

"Keep it." Horst turned around and said. "That knife will keep you sane in most situations, and for people like us, staying sane is more important than anything else."

"A vengeful man who has lost his consciousness is a dangerous and out-of-control beast. You will never be able to refuse the offer of the vengeful souls. You will become a machine driven by the unjust dead. So, hold on to it and start learning to wield a knife. Come on, Tujia.”

The investigator was silent for a moment and suddenly asked: "Are you giving your last words?"

The pastor smiled, not only without anger, but even nodded seriously.

"You can understand that I don't think I can survive this war."

"Why?"

Horst did not answer this question, but showed a rather mysterious smile.

He seemed to have turned back into the gentle priest, instead of a gloomy, unsmiling and terrifying butcher. Of course, you have to ignore the blood on his hands to make this comment.

Tujia was in a daze, and then realized that Horst's hands were covered in blood.

Not a drop of blood was on his hands during that night of horrific carnage.

"What are you going to do?" Unconsciously, Tujia's instinct asked this question before his reason.

"I want to protect my church," the pastor said softly and gently. "That's my answer, Tujia. But since you've asked me so many questions, can I ask you one too?"

Tujia nodded.

"Do you believe in miracles?" the pastor asked.

Tujia took a step back, leaned against the small door of the back room, felt the people's increasingly uniform prayers, shook his head slowly, and then nodded again.

"Half a month ago, I could have said I didn't believe it. I believe in the God Emperor, but I don't believe in miracles because I have never seen it. Even among those who need it most, I have never seen it. The miracle comes."

"Kind people will only be oppressed, but people who abandon morality can live more freely. If a person is born with a bad species, he can enjoy the happiness in the hive while laughing at those who abide by the law and work hard to survive. But now, I'm not so sure."

Tujia grasped the knife tightly and slowly raised it.

"Which god do you believe in, Horst? And why can He perform miracles at will?"

"Has the Emperor not shown His mercy to us?" the priest asked. "Don't you and I owe the continuation of our lives to His sacrifice? If it hadn't been for Him, this conversation between us would never have happened."

"As for the other god you are talking about, you already know the answer in your heart. His power is so simple and direct, and he will never hide himself. Revenge is revenge, and there is no need to use any words to cover it up. Revenge is a thing. Brutal and bloody murder.”

"So, it's the God of Vengeance?" Tujia murmured this title, but got a smile from Horst. That smile was very strange, making it difficult to figure out what he meant.

"Most of the time, He is the god of vengeance. But, after a while, He will change back to Him, and He will come back to us, Tujia. You will see that scene." The priest said firmly. .

He walked towards the small door, pushed Tujia open gently but without disobedience, and stuffed something heavy into his hand.

Tujia couldn't care less and wanted to leave with him, but the wooden door suddenly disappeared in front of him. The investigator's eyes widened in disbelief, and at the same time, the priest's voice came to his ears.

"A little trick, stay inside, Tujia. If things really get to the point of no return... Well, in short, protect it."

What to protect?

Tujia lowered his head in confusion and saw a black fragment that he had seen before.

At this moment, he lost his footing and fell into the abyss.

He saw a pair of completely black eyes.