40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 523 41. Records of the Battle Group Era (2, Scarlet Sorrow)

Khalil reached out his hand and accurately pulled out a document from the mountain of documents. It is three fingers thick, and its rough surface is coated with a thin layer of gel. The characters and real paper appear clearly in the solidified gel.

Khalil pinched it slightly with his fingers and felt a stone-like hardness.

This is quite interesting. He narrowed his eyes and raised the piece of paper in front of him. Unsurprisingly, it covered his entire upper body.

Roughly speaking, this is a battle report, recording an important battle experienced by the Crimson Claws in 145.M32. The writer obviously had rich experience, and he completely described the dangers of this war in just a few words.

Khalil returned to the beginning and began to read carefully again. Three important names were captured by him.

One of them is Seth Harlan, an Inquisitor focused on hunting down traitors. Khalil closed his eyes, pondered for a few seconds, and soon remembered his life. The Inquisitor lived for four centuries, eventually succumbing to a rebellion within the Empire.

He was completely surrounded by the rebellious local Imperial Guards in the easternmost part of the Sun Star Territory. He tried to break through but was unable to do so. Before his death, he tried to call the name of the god in accordance with the top secret regulations within the Inquisition.

His name, not the God of Vengeance.

Khalil smiled - another little Malcador trick, but it worked, at least he did hear it in the dark.

The second name is Captain Gastrin de Chambal from the 72nd Regiment of Urtugen's Punishment Army. His name is somewhat ominous, but he is an impeccable loyalist.

In this battle named Scarlet Death, he led the 72nd Regiment to behead the enemy's main mortal general, a governor whose name had been erased, through a flanking attack.

His bravery sealed the victory, but the ending was not so happy. Twenty-six years after the war, he froze to death in a world full of ice and snow. He was alone when he died, and his troops were forced to get lost in the snow due to the influence of chaos witchcraft. He is forty-nine years old.

May you rest in peace.

Then, we come to the last name - Yar Ashshik, the first Chapter Master of the Crimson Claws Chapter. He died in this battle, and was buried here together with all 622 combat brothers in his regiment.

So, why?

Khalil had the answer, but it was from Yal's perspective, so he started rereading it again.

The cause of the battle was attributed to the betrayal of Tertius, the governor of the place where the battle took place, who sent a call for help, falsely claiming that his planet was being besieged by a large number of Astartes traitors.

The Crimson Claws who happened to be wandering nearby received this broadcast and quickly rushed to Tertius. They saw the traitors near low-Earth orbit, but they were just a group of traitors who were well prepared and whose number was several times greater than theirs.

Under the circumstances, Yair Ashishik quickly judged the situation and delivered a speech. From the survivors' mouths and the records of the cogitator array on the Bloody Jihad, the writer restored his speech.

".We can indeed break out and leave, but we can't do that, because this is exactly what these cowardly and shameless bastards want us to do. We will never do what the enemy wants."

"Let me tell you why."

"Look, everyone. At this moment, they have an entire Imperial world and the lives of all the innocent people on it in their hands, but they are not in a hurry to set this world on fire like before. What else do I need to say? It's obvious. , this is a trap, just to lure us into taking the bait.”

"Therefore, if we follow our rational judgment and make a breakout, we will be quite confident that we can leave and we will be safe. But, if I say this, this is when we really fall into their trap!"

"A Nightborne can be killed, but death is just the beginning for us. What they really want to do is to force us to perish in the blood of innocents until we become as despicable maggots as they are."

"They will not succeed. The Blood Jihad will not retreat, and neither will the Crimson Claw. We will fight and die, and we will never turn our backs on an innocent person."

After delivering this speech, the Scarlet Claw fleet began to charge and jump on the twelve enemy ships parked in low-Earth orbit.

By valor and determination they gained some advantage, and the enemy's ships were all destroyed or blown up, and not a single one remained. The cost was that only one of the seven battleships remained. Although the battle loss ratio was astonishing, it could almost be called a great victory.

However, they don't just have enemies among the stars to deal with.

There were still many wars burning on the ground in Tertius, so the surviving Scarlet Claws gathered again and made a desperate attempt to enter the ground by forcefully landing their ships into the atmosphere.

Their drop pod delivery system was severely damaged in the naval battle and was rendered inoperable. The crash landing made matters worse, almost breaking the first generation of bloody jihadists in two.

However, their risk was worth it, and ninety-five hours into the battle, the last traitor on Tertius was killed.

Great victory, tragic victory, glorious victory. The writer wrote these three comments.

In addition, it is worth mentioning that during the battle, many people in the Scarlet Claw directly became demons - in fact, almost two-thirds of the 622 battle dead were directly upgraded to demons.

In order to win this war, they had to tear off their own human skin and fight with a more ferocious attitude. And in this case, in the eyes of the witnesses, they are not much different from the traitors, they are even more evil and terrifying.

After the war, Seth Harlan led his team to Tertius, where he stabilized the local society by some means. Those rumors and eyewitnesses from that year were either treated with amnesia or included in the inquisition.

It seemed like a good ending, but Tertius was forever changed after this battle. It was completely infiltrated by the spiral of hatred, and the local folk customs became extreme and violent.

Of course, these are all things for later.

Khalil sighed and put down the battle report in his hand.

He didn't know what to think. Although he could hear their voices in the dark and even saw some one-sided flashbacks, these cold words turned out to be more impactful than those pictures.

They are just a pile of data upon data, a string of cold descriptions without any embellishment of rhetoric or memory. What they bring is only the purest and cruelest truth.

The truth is that similar things have happened countless times over the past ten thousand years. And it's not just happening to the children of the night, countless people are bleeding.

Maybe someone would compile these things into a magnificent heroic epic, but Khalil could only see endless blood and numerous bones between the numbers.

This is a bloody disaster caused by him.

Yes, he knows that many people are alive because of him. But how many people died because of him?

Khalil put down the battle report, and there was no expression on his face that had barely recovered. But if someone could look deep into his mind at this moment, they would find that those dark thoughts that had been suppressed with great difficulty are making a comeback at this moment.

They rise from the depths, break through the limits of reason, and are as unstoppable as the waves. It took several minutes for Khalil to regain his composure.

He sighed and walked to another pile of documents. He didn't want to interrupt his work like this, but if he continued to read the battle reports, his shaky sanity might completely fall into the abyss.

By then, it may be difficult to return to ‘normal’.

For the sake of the personal safety of all the crew members of the Nightfall, he instead picked up a document book with the logo of the Inquisition. The sky eagle and the skull came into view. He turned over the page with trembling fingers and saw a line of printed fonts printed in the center of the white paper.

"Olicana Hive Investigation Report."

He turned the page again, but with a slightly stronger force, even a little rough. The blood even transcended the shackles of psychic energy and penetrated the bandage, leaving blood-red fingerprints clearly on the white paper.

His breathing became heavier uncontrollably, and he felt sincerely bitter about this scene that broke the white harmony, but he had no choice but to loosen his fingers and let the blood continue to drip.

At this moment, a voice came from outside the office door.

"Instructor."

Khalil looked over with eyes that turned dark red at some point, and replied hoarsely: "Come in."

The door slid open and the hunter walked in, his posture quite intriguing. He was holding a dark tome in one hand, and a rusty sharp knife in the other hand. The blade was facing Khalil, as if he would attack him in the next second.

"I'm here to deliver something." The hunter said very calmly, turning a blind eye to Khalil's dangerous posture at the moment.

His words were met with a cold stare. Khalil put down the blood-stained investigation report in his hand and began to approach him. The pace was definitely not gentle, but rather very heavy. Every step made the steel tremble.

The night horn whined beneath his feet, and the howling cold wind began to tear at the hunter's body, urging him to leave quickly. But the hunter was unmoved. He still stood there until the turbid white eyes reflected Khalil's disintegrating face.

His skin shredded again. the hunter thought.

"Instructor." The hunter called again. "I'm just here to deliver something."

Khalil looked at him intently, and after a while, he reluctantly lowered his head and took the tome and the rusty blade. He glanced at them and instantly inserted the rusty blade directly back into the book.

The classics trembled for a moment, and there was a faint sound of thunder flashing through the room. The cold wind gradually turned into a strong wind, and the hunter slowly said: "It was His Excellency Azek Ahriman who asked me to return this book to you."

".Blind man."

After a few seconds of silence, Khalil struggled to say the name. His teeth were gritted, not out of hatred, but because some long-ago memories were reviving.

The hunter nodded and said: "Yes, he is also known as the blind man. He has calculated your return in some way and thinks that you will need this book more than he does."

"Is he still alive?"

"The door is still there, and so is the key," said the hunter. "Because of this book, the blind man has transcended. In the baptism of wrathful flames, he will fall into hell forever."

"There are four other people who have the same experience as him, but their situation is not as good as Lord Ahriman, and they can still stay with their brothers."

Khalil was silent for a moment, and put the book in his hand on the pile of documents. He pointed to the Astartes-sized chair, walked to the corner, moved the human-sized chair over, and sat on it himself.

"Tell me about it." He said hoarsely. "I'm very interested in these things."

The hunter smiled for the first time.

"Lord Ahriman and his brothers are now serving as bards in the Wild Wolves, under the direct jurisdiction of Lord Commander Bjorn."

"Lord Sigismund fell into a deep sleep many years ago. He was transported back to Rogal Dorn's fortress by the Black Templars and is now sleeping deep."

"Lord Thor Tarvitz is wandering on Chemos, looking for new blood for the Emperor's Children. As one of the parent groups, they have always been sparsely populated. I think this has something to do with Lord Tarvitz's strict standards."

"Lord Thunder is the most mysterious one. We rarely hear about him, but he is still wandering among the stars. His last appearance was two centuries ago, fighting alongside the Blood Angels' Weepers."

Khalil slowly closed his eyes and nodded gently.

"Weepers?"

He asked again, his voice becoming slightly softer. The Hunter knew that he wanted to continue listening to distract himself, so he immediately took up the conversation - to be honest, this was probably the most he had spoken in the nearly three hundred years since he became a 'Hunter'.

"Yes, the Weepers, instructor. A glorious and noble chapter, they and we often make the same choices when facing innocent people and the people of the Empire. For this reason, I personally respect these cousins, but they seem to be very unfortunate."

"Since the establishment of the chapter, they have been facing many huge disasters that they cannot handle on their own. Fortunately, Regent Sanguinius soon noticed this matter. He summoned the only 221 remaining battle brothers of the Weepers near Terra."

"And then?"

"Then, they are still unfortunate." The Hunter sighed. "Although we have the support of the Primarch, as well as the direct blood transfusion and equipment support from the Mother Group, the bad luck has not changed at all."

"It's hard for me to say what the reason is. Maybe I can see something after seeing them in person, but we have never met them."

Khalil opened his eyes, and the dark red had completely faded from his eyes. He lowered his head, tapped his knees as if he was thinking, and spoke hoarsely.

"What is the relationship between you and Taros Valcoran?"

The hunter did not answer, but stood up, bowed slightly, and then turned to leave. Khalil watched him go away, reached out and picked up the book.

There is still a lot to read.

He opened the book, and his bloody face began to recover quickly, as if a monster was wearing a human disguise.