40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 504 22. The idol is broken and the dead are resurrected (7)

Hatred filled Zell's heart little by little.

It was supposed to be his boost, burning in his chest to help him get through the difficulties at hand, but Zell refused its help.

No, no. At least not now. He told himself so.

The 'Paladin' frowned and used his acquired emotional control ability to force himself to regain his composure. He was in ruins, with corpses in every direction.

Some were civilians, some were Litatra's local defense soldiers, and only a few were weak demons killed by Zell.

The large forces of the demonic tide have already gone to other places to wreak havoc and massacre, but all the inanimate beings who have some pursuits are eager for fresh flesh and blood. Only these demons who are weak and even marginalized will choose to torture corpses.

Their lives as lifeless beings were so miserable that Zell simply stepped in to help them find relief.

With the signature silence of the Shadow Knights, he chopped all these beasts into pieces with his sword. As the demons' blasphemy was terminated by his sword, this devastated ruins also found a rare peace.

But this is just the beginning, Zell still has a lot to do and many demons to kill.

He was well aware of this and worried about it. However, the other person who came with him didn't seem to think so.

Akapatis looked into the distance attentively, spoke softly, and talked endlessly about his analysis.

"Most of the remaining garrison troops have retreated back to their barracks and underground fortresses. As long as their commander is not a fool, he will definitely issue this order. Maybe we should find a higher place to take a look, Zell. "

"When you say 'we', you just mean you." Zell replied with a sneer. "You'd better get this idea out of your head, Acapatis."

"Why?"

"Because this is simply unrealistic. Do you know how many demons are circling back and forth in the sky now? Once discovered, you will definitely die."

Akapatis was silent for a few seconds. Not only did he not choose to be quiet, but he once again started to argue with reason.

"Then what should we do? Should we just continue to move forward behind those demons? We have left the church for two Terra hours, and time is passing. Just let me go, Zell."

He turned back expectantly and patted Zell on the shoulder. There is no need to take off his helmet, Zell also knows that Akapatis is probably full of expectations now.

This didn't make him feel any sense of relief, but instead gave him the urge to sigh - the barbarian's persistence reminded him of his past self.

It seems that every recruit is like this, and their mentality has not been completely separated from the influence of the two identities of 'trainee' and 'junior'.

Their stubbornness and willingness to take on difficult tasks were not driven by a desire for honor, nor by a true understanding of their responsibilities.

Just like Akapatis, most of the reasons why he did this were probably just because he wanted to prove that his mentality was no different from chronic poison.

"No." Zell replied coldly, without showing any emotion.

"Why?"

"Because it doesn't work."

Zell dropped these words and stepped out of the ruins.

He didn't want to waste any time talking to Acapatis. On normal days, he might be very interested in this pastime, but not now.

He is not an 'adult' kind of bastard, who likes to use words and truth to uncover the scars in other people's hearts, watch them bleed and then laugh uncontrollably.

Zell's attitude made the barbarian a little stunned, obviously he didn't expect him to do this. But he quickly adjusted his mentality and followed.

This is also one of the best qualities of Akapatis - he may be temporarily affected by his emotions, but he always knows what he should do.

In this way, they started sneaking one after another. The training they received in the past and the gifts in their genes allowed them to successfully walk down the broken streets stained red with blood.

Unfortunately, there were only corpses everywhere as far as the eye could see, with no survivors.

Litatra can be considered a stable world within the entire empire. Although oppression and corruption are everywhere, at least the living people have food to eat and will not starve to death.

But now, these things have all disappeared.

The civilians were dragged out of their homes, their chests and abdomen opened with sharp claws, and they died in great pain and fear as they were toyed with by demons. They might even have their beliefs mocked by the demons.

Most of them don't even know why they met with such bad luck.

Anger rose again in Zell's chest, but it was fleeting. Reason roared in with the meaning of duty, crushing the anger.

Therefore, what he did next had nothing to do with the word 'venting anger'.

He pulled out his torch and started running. Akapatis followed closely and raised his gun. Like two ghosts, they drifted past the ruins where there was no life left, and rushed towards the demonic tide.

But they won't commit holy murder now. They would do that, but never this now.

The reason why they had to leave behind the enemy's tactical advantages of overt and covert is just because they heard the sound of cannons and gunshots coming from the front of the demonic tide. The war concerto created by mankind was staining the bloody and broken Litate. Play loudly.

Corpses and blood are its notes, cannons and blazing muzzles are its instruments. The demons are not the audience, but another musical instrument. A group of 'musicians' were wielding their own instruments and blasting these blasphemous lifeless beings.

Only then did Zell realize that he might have underestimated Litatra's garrison. Although the attack was sudden, they had entered a complete state of war, and could even rely on a fortress to temporarily fight the demons back and forth.

Zell narrowed his eyes unconsciously and used this habit he learned from someone to observe the enemy's situation.

The zoom function of the eyepiece easily helped him see through the flesh and blood millstone filled with monsters and monsters, and saw a gray fortress that was struggling to support itself.

A fist was clenched stubbornly on the steel city wall, and blood-red gravel escaped between the fingers, accumulating into a pool of blood-red color.

Zell glanced at it and felt a strange familiarity. He immediately began to search for evidence in his mind that there might be a connection, and soon found this mark from a few words in a Ministry of Military Affairs recruitment manual he had read more than ten years ago.

In his memory, he was back in that bloody room. He had just killed sixteen traitors and was reading the books on the bookshelf next to their corpses.

"Son of the Red Sand." Zell spoke seriously while running. "From Nuceria, served as an auxiliary to the War Hounds throughout the Great Crusade. Separated into an independent army after the Codex was promulgated"

"No wonder they are so brave." Akapatis said with some admiration.

Zell agreed with the statement, but he did not formulate it.

He didn't have time to do this at the moment. At this moment, his precious attention had been transferred to the back of the demonic tide.

It wasn't that far away from them, and the number of demons was relatively small. There were even only some fear monsters. Among them, there is a bird-beaked demon holding a long staff and shaking its staff, with a glistening blue light emitting under its feet.

It is not one of those powerful so-called ever-changing demons, but it is definitely not a low-level demon. Zell realizes this, but he doesn't bother to care about its identity. He is now filled with murderous intent.

Yago Severtarion once said it quite rightly: If you find Daemons belonging to Tzeentch on the battlefield, remember to deal with them first.

Zell raised his left hand and threw the torch bearer to Akapatis. The scout caught it with a bit of surprise, and before he could say anything, he heard Zell's order.

"Cover me with fire. Retreat after the fight. Don't be reluctant to fight. Enter the fortress from the rear."

"what are you up to?"

"I'm going to kill it," Zell said.

After saying these words, he began to charge with all his strength. Before Akapatis could even express his objection to this damned so-called 'plan', he saw Zell rushing into the demonic tide.

The barbarian couldn't help but curse, but he immediately raised the torch bearer. His shots were accurate, and every blast was effective. This may be because the Torchman is better than his gun, or maybe it's just because he's focused to the extreme.

Zell naturally knew nothing about his thoughts, but even if he knew, he probably wouldn't pay attention to them.

He had poured all his attention into this simple and crude killing plan, and he no longer even cared about whether it was just a trap. Against these nightmare birds from the warp, pure violence is much better than a clear mind.

He began killing with unusual concentration.

The children of Konrad Curze seem to be born with a terrible and dark focus, which can burst into brilliant light in how to wield the blade if they choose.

Zell was no exception at this moment. He kept moving forward, and under the point of the sword, the fear monsters fell one after another. The pink one turned into two blue ones, and the blue one disappeared in the flames.

Their cacophony of screams soon attracted the attention of the Tzeentch demon who was casting a spell. It stretched its head strangely, then turned over and looked at Zell from a completely opposite angle.

It neighed unpleasantly, and the long staff in its hand suddenly shook, and a beam of fluorescent light shot straight out from the top. Zell dodged it with extraordinary reflexes, and the hot lava spurted out from where he had just stood. It soon affected the surrounding monsters, scalding them to the point of leaving no trace of their corpses.

This incident made the Tzeentch demon extremely angry. Akapatis, who was not far away, saw all this and couldn't help but raise a mocking smile - What? Didn't you foresee this in your plan?

He moved his arm, aimed at the long staff that began to shine again, and pulled the trigger hard. The machine soul in the torchbearer seemed to sense his murderous intention, and the gunfire flashed, but the barbarian was shaken back two steps by the huge recoil force that came from unknown sources.

He clearly saw a black flame flash across the muzzle of the gun, propelling the explosive bomb to accurately break the long staff, and the four consecutive rounds that followed were directly embedded in the demon's body.

The flames burned, it roared in pain, its feathers flew, and screamed for the Horrors to stop Zell - but how could they stop him? The truly powerful demons have already rushed to the forefront of the demonic tide.

Zell sprinted forward, as if gliding, launching the final charge of the assault. None of the fear monsters' attacks hit, but he killed many of them while running wildly.

Seeing that something was wrong, they actually started to run away, scattering away from the Tzeentch demon that was still guarding them before. At this moment, there is no obstacle between Zell and it.

The 'Paladin' raised his sword and struck it cleanly, not even forgetting to take out a silver Sky Eagle mark from a hidden compartment of the belt on his waist and throw it on its body.

Amidst the hissing sound of melting flesh and blood, the assault was finally over, and it didn't even last half a minute. Until this moment, most of the demons in the demonic tide were still unaware of what was happening behind them.

However, even if they knew, I'm afraid they wouldn't care much.

They can team up briefly, but their chaotic nature thrills with every death. What's more, most of the demons in this demon army come from the realm of the Blood God. If there is no such fortress in front of them, I am afraid that the first thing they will kill is the servants of the Lord of Changes.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Zell quickly returned to Akapatis, and the scout immediately returned his gun, but with both hands.

Zell glanced at him strangely, reached out and took the gun without saying anything.

He did see those bullets entwined with angry flames, which proved Akapatis' talent from another aspect, but there was another problem that followed.

Akapatis has not yet been allowed to return to Nostramo, which means that he should not have been able to summon the power of the realm of vengeance so freely.

Zell was silent for half a second as he pondered this question, and suddenly a thunder flashed through his mind.

Holy Spirit Month.

The word caused more thunder.

How long has this festival, which lasts for a full month, existed? That piece of debris.

So that's it, and if that's the case, then it all makes sense.

However, if this is the case, then wouldn’t the twenty-five-hour countdown be in vain?

Zell instinctively tightened his grip on the torch bearer and was half a beat too slow in hanging the gun back on the belt on his waist. At the critical moment, his training worked.

The extraordinary physique obtained after genetic modification was fully controlled by the calm will brought by day and night training. Zell raised his hand and grabbed Akapatis: "I need you to go back."

"What? Now?"

"Yes, right now, use your fastest speed." Zell said seriously. "Go back and tell Captain Crostilian that the resurgence of the fragments is related to the Holy Spirit Moon, and then ask him to evacuate all the civilians from the church!"

The scout was startled by his serious tone and subconsciously wanted to follow his orders, but he had some doubts after all.

"But... where can they go?"

"They can go anywhere, but they can't be in church!"

Zell gave a rare growl, but the words he spoke were completely different from what he had thought before. However, there was a reason for this. The words he spoke next made Acapatis shudder.

"Unless you want to see a large group of fanatical believers soaked in sanity, holding sharp blades and spreading the spiral of hatred throughout Litatra."

The recruit turned around and ran away without saying a word, his forehead already covered with fine beads of cold sweat. Zell never lied, and there was no need to lie to him or deceive him. What's more, he just witnessed the generation of angry flames with his own eyes.

He knew how much he weighed.

He ran wildly. The breathing grille helped him filter out many weird smells, but a small amount still entered his nasal cavity. The evil mixed smell actually gave him the illusion of being almost suffocated.

Akapatis immediately became vigilant, it could make him feel uncomfortable, and this was even with the helmet filtering it in advance. What is the difference between this and poisonous gas? How could normal burning ruins produce such a smell?

He immediately stopped running, dodged and hid between the ruins, and quietly entered a stealth posture.

This vigilance was proved necessary in just a minute - a swamp actually appeared on his way back to the second district of Litatra.

There are dark greens and tawny browns, mixed together, as disgusting as the methane pits still in use underground in some ancient hive cities. Nurglings of indescribable appearance were dragging the corpses of civilians and throwing them into it. The body sank quickly, leaving only a few bubbles emerging.

Akapatis slowed down his breathing and his expression became a little ugly, hesitating between killing and finding another way. In the end, it was the word spiral of hatred that overcame everything and forced him to remove his finger from the trigger.

At this moment, a buzzing fly landed on the masonry wall where he was hiding.

It rubbed its forelimbs, and a flash of emerald green light suddenly lit up in its disgusting compound eyes. Then, this tiny creature began to swell.

Akapatis didn't hesitate at all and left the place with a vertical jump. However, a scream followed the explosion of the fly and descended into the ruins. The sound was continuous and immediately attracted the attention of the Nurglings.

Akapatis cursed secretly, angry at his own incautiousness, but also confused as to how a fly discovered him.

He no longer hesitated, threw his previous plans behind him, and ran towards the swamp. The Nurglings did not stop his thoughts, but screamed and jumped into the swamp.

Akapatis thought they were afraid of him, but he didn't expect that the stinky swamp suddenly began to erupt, and rotten corpses spurted out, flying into the sky along with brown juice and countless maggots.

In this disgusting and scalp-numbing scene, a huge, bloated figure slowly stood up. There are layers of fat on its body, and its green skin looks very smooth, with no blisters or abscesses.

It has a twisted horn on top of its head, under which are two eyes so small that they are almost invisible and a terrifyingly large mouth. As soon as it appeared, it sneezed, and many Nurglings flew out of it, which were then happily caught by it itself with outstretched hands.

Then, Akapatis saw it lift the fat on its belly, exposing a larger cracked mouth.

The Nurglings jumped into it laughing, but the barbarian's face began to twitch.

He finally began to understand why enemies like Nurgle were so hated within the Chapter.

The demon turned around with a smile and awkwardly crawled out of the pit corroded by the swamp.

Akapatis couldn't see clearly its eyes that were covered by fat, but he could feel it staring at him. He immediately raised his gun and opened fire, but the explosive bomb sank into its fat, and there was no trace of it. movement. There wasn't even a bullet hole left on the smooth skin.

The demon scratched his body lazily, opened his bloody mouth, and actually greeted Acapatis.

"Hello, the contractor who swore revenge. Ah, wait, you seem to be very young."

It shook its head regretfully: "This is such a pity."

What's a pity? Akapatis angrily pulled out two frag grenades from his belt and threw them at it, but the demon did not dodge and just yawned.

The fat on its belly stretched out along its body, and a long, sticky tongue like intestines shot out of the terrifying canyon-like mouth. It rolled two grenades back into its mouth in mid-air and swallowed them whole. Down.

Along with the dull sound, the devil patted his belly with a smile and seemed very satisfied. Akapatis looked at it in disbelief, and for a moment he didn't even know whether to continue firing.

The devil had no such concerns. He spoke gently - even politely - "Actually, I think we can keep him for a while."

Who is it talking to?

Akapatis turned around suddenly and saw a face covered with scriptures, and then felt a sharp pain in his heart.

He fell to the ground, never feeling so weak in his life. He seems to have been stabbed by something, but what was it? How could it penetrate his armor so easily and even make his body

ah.

Akapatis opened his lips tremblingly, and his vision began to blur.

The demon walked regretfully, making the ground tremble with every step. It stopped in front of Akapatis, shook its head, and said, "I don't think you need to do this. What threat can he pose? Why don't we keep him?"

"Why are you so determined to keep a new recruit, Lord Dolor?"

"Because at least he didn't kill my fly," the demon known as Dolor muttered in reply. "He's obviously a kind man, don't you think so?"

The person who was talking to it was obviously amused by this sentence: "Well, it's my fault. Next time, I will pay attention to it. What do you think of this, Your Excellency Dolor?"

"I think it's okay." The devil smiled happily and grabbed Akapatis who was not dead yet.

Its power was so great that the recruit immediately heard his own bones being broken. He almost had the illusion that he was a fruit being crushed.

The recruit couldn't help but vomit a mouthful of blood, which sprayed everywhere inside the helmet. The pain actually helped him at this time, making his consciousness clear for a moment.

He raised his head and followed his instinctive guidance to see the person who stabbed him.

He clearly saw the smiling face covered with scriptures.

Akapatis opened his lips tremblingly, wanting to curse, or at least say something.

But he was unable to do so, for the demon was tugging at his helmet so clumsily that it almost tore his head off with it. He couldn't help but gasp, and finally, it was the man who spoke.

"Would you mind letting me help you, Your Excellency?"

The devil immediately nodded and held out his right hand. The man stretched out his hands from the large priest's robe, easily found the hidden buckle of Akapatis' helmet, and took it off.

He still smiled, answering Akapatis' hateful gaze.

"Keep hating, recruit," he said. "It won't be of any use anyway. You're still too young, and the contract hasn't even been signed yet."

He chuckled and waved towards Akapatis - or rather, waved towards the demon.

The next second, accompanied by a strong feeling of weightlessness, Akapatis could no longer see him.

Is that all?

On the verge of death, Acapatis couldn't help but ask this question.

Is that all? My life. I haven't been able to accomplish anything. I haven't gotten the message back to the adults. I

Another wave of pain came down, and this time, it didn't help Akapatis. All thoughts stopped suddenly, leaving only one last thought.

'Damn Chaos, if there's communication'

Erebus stared at his pale face, smiled with satisfaction, and stepped forward.

The demon Dolore also followed up, and the corpse was being held in its hands. The chest and abdomen had been cut open, and densely packed insect eggs were being injected into it.

Erebus knew what it was going to do. This newly promoted Great Unclean One was very generous and would even grant huge blessings to some mortals who could see through it. It obviously liked the recruit so much that it planned to give him a little paternal mercy after death.

What a kindness. The Dark Apostle couldn't help but chuckle and walked slowly towards a church.

Behind him, darkness swept in, and demons stood in it.

——

Staring at all this, 'Sir' felt a headache for the first time.

Slor stood beside him, the executioner's usually sullen face now taking on a more terrifying look, as if he was being punched in the stomach with both hands.

Iharal was quite calm, but he was always calm. He had a facial nerve problem and couldn't show obvious emotions at all.

Judging from the twitching corners of his eyes, Crostilian knew that the skull was probably not in a good mood either.

This is normal, this is absolutely normal. Who can stay in a good mood in the face of a spiral of hatred that is beginning to take shape? I'm afraid even the God of Vengeance himself can't laugh.

Crostilian secretly cursed these things, but kept his surface emotions clean.

He began to give orders: "Slor, go to the church to find Horst. Iharal, you and I come, these people we need to calm down."

As soon as he said this sentence, he even wanted to laugh - calm? How to be calm? The chain of hatred has completely linked them to each other. If you don't believe it, just look at the woman who is punching and kicking her child.

The love he had for his own flesh and blood in the past had completely disappeared, and all the complaints he had in daily life erupted at this moment, eventually turning into a genuine twisted murderous intention.

She was just a silhouette, and she was the gentlest of all the people who took refuge in the church. As for the others, most of them were covered in blood and had completed their first revenge.

Soon, they will start killing each other until they are the last one left alive.

No matter how injured that person was before, hatred will support him to move to the next place where humans still exist, and then spread this hatred out.

At that time, he doesn't even need to kill, just showing up can turn the soldiers who were fighting side by side a second ago into two enemies who will never give up until they kill each other.

"Understood." Iharal replied angrily, and Crostilian rushed towards the group of civilians who were killing each other.

The way they give calm is actually very simple, such as punching the spine, rotating the neck, and beating the heart. There is no other way, this is the only way.

However, even if all civilians are allowed to calm down, it does not mean that this matter can end like this. The spiral of hatred still exists and will spread to Crostilian and Iharal, but they have already sworn an oath, so they can still bear this hatred.

In other words, they will live with blood, sin, and the hatred of others on their hands until the final day.

Slor watched them enter the crowd, then took steps and rushed into the church. As he expected, the place was full of blood, the emperor's statue was tilted here and there, and more than a dozen corpses made the church look like a slaughter scene.

Priest Horst knelt in the center of the corpse, taking deep breaths calmly. His white robe was stained with blood.

Slor raised his gun.

"Horst," he asked coldly. "How are you?"

".No." The pastor reluctantly replied, only spitting out a single syllable.

There is no need to elaborate on his situation. Slor retracted his gaze and began to approach him, but his gun was always aimed at Horst's head.

The executioner approached the priest little by little, and finally he put his gun to the back of his head and whispered a Nostramo phrase.

Horst spurted out a mouthful of blood, turned around tremblingly, and fell at Slor's feet like a wounded beast, twitching all over.

The avenger's eyes were no longer clear as before, replaced by a manic and horrifying murderous intent. Even Slor could sense a hint of threat.

He knew the reason. People would acquire some unique abilities over many years of 'career', the most common of which was the enhancement of physical fitness.

The Avenger on Nostramo even rivaled the Astartes in strength. Horst is naturally far inferior, but...

Slor lowered his head and looked at the sharp knife in his hand. He raised his foot and stepped on it with such force that Horst's fingers holding the knife were completely shattered. In response, the pastor just snorted in pain without any dissatisfaction, and even let out a sigh of relief.

"Where are the fragments?" Slor asked.

Horst shook his head weakly, veins popping up on his face: "I leave it to my successor. He won't show up until everything is over."

Slor nodded slightly and asked another question: "Why does the moment of hatred come so early?"

Horst smiled, blood gushing from his throat: "Because I must protect Tugea, the avenger, and he cannot die."

Slor was silent for half a second and asked, "What do you mean?"

"I removed the power of faith that maintained the balance of the church and used them to strengthen the door of the inner room. Until the power of chaos subsides, that door will not open. It has become a small emperor's sanctuary."

Horst curled up while vomiting blood.

"Why?" the executioner asked emotionlessly.

"Because I saw it all," Horst said. "I told Zell, but he said it was just an illusion, but I didn't say anything. What I saw was not only Litatra trapped in the sea of ​​fire, I also saw Erebus."

The executioner slowly narrowed his eyes.

"And now, the first half of the illusion has come true. What about the second half, Slor?" Horst asked coughing, grabbing the bulge of the executioner's iron boot with his left hand.

"I don't have the gift of prophecy, but if you agree, I can be regarded as half a shadow knight. We can only see the prophecy once in our lives, and it will definitely come true. Therefore, Erebus will definitely come. He is rushing to He's coming with debris, how can we stop him?"

He smiled miserably and let go of his hand, falling to the ground weakly. Tears streaked across his face covered in blood, dripping to the ground and smashing to pieces.

Slor silently released his foot and kicked the knife away.

"I don't know if you are right or wrong, but you have committed a crime, Horst. Have you ever thought—"

"——He's already here." The pastor said stubbornly, his eyes blood red.

He stood up slowly, saliva dripping from his mouth, mixed with blood, and the veins on his face were all bulging, looking more like a mad beast than a human being.

Slor frowned and raised the gun he had just put down again.

"Explanation." He said succinctly.

"He's already here!" Horst roared. "I can detect it, I can feel him approaching!"

He suddenly covered his forehead like crazy, tears streaming down his face, and screamed loudly as if he had lost his mind. Slor wanted to knock him out temporarily and take him out to discuss countermeasures, but suddenly he felt an unknown fire.

It was just a flame at first, and then, in a single moment that could not be called time, it began to burn rapidly until it became a terrifying flame that almost burned Slor to death.

Countless voices sounded in his ears. They were not hallucinations, definitely not hallucinations. They were countless times more terrifying than hallucinations. They are the accusations and curses of every victim in the past ten thousand years against the murderer. They are their last screams or words before death.

They were the introduction, helping Slor's skin burn, and also helping him slowly loosen his grip on the gun.

The bolter crashed to the ground with a thud, a sound like thunder. The man who was once Horst Endro laughed wildly amidst the thunder, picked up his sharp knife, turned into a terrifying half-man, half-animal monster, and rushed out of the church door impatiently.

In the church, the emperor's statue looked at all this with compassion, and all began to shed tears of blood.

Slor saw this scene. He bent down silently and let out a roar that he could no longer bear. Black flames swept in and engulfed him completely.

Will anyone remember him? Does anyone remember that a shadow knight named Slor once existed in this world?

In the distant darkness, a lone man read his name. He remembered him and even knew why he died.

He was extremely sad.