40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 579 97. Dark Crusade (Twenty-Two, Landing, King of Falsehood)

"Go on," said Yago Savitarion.

The bridge was empty, no one was here but him. The brilliance of the dark stars flickers slightly strangely on the almost illusory observation window. They almost look like eyes one after another.

Sevatar occasionally imagined that these eyes were a bridge through which a mad god could see the outside world, and he knew that in the Warp, they were exactly that.

There are no normal things there. Even the cemetery that can bring peace is filled with a group of crazy undead.

They will not hesitate to destroy the world.

The first chapter leader of the Midnight Blade sat down expressionlessly. The Night Soul had two command seats. One was of mortal size, carrying the roars of past captains, and the other had been empty for nearly ten thousand years. , until today.

Savita sat on it safely, the chain saw halberd leaning against the right armrest, and the replaced monomolecular saw blade staying quietly inside the groove.

They gleamed, but his armor was different, ancient power armor from the days of the Legion, a nightmare for servitors and Chapter servants alike. No matter how hard they wiped it, it never shined like the rest of the armor.

The servants secretly believed it to be alive, feeding on light.

Sevatar knew about it, but he didn't want to pay attention to it. Walking with the Night Blade requires courage, and this is only the most basic requirement. The bravery of most people is no different from a castle made of gravel in front of the grinning demons.

They had already given a lot, and he did not ask for more qualifications.

"Wrong?" Saiweita suddenly said. "What mistake did I make?"

The cold wind that came from nowhere blew past my face, and the sound became louder and louder, like the whimpering of an innocent soul. Savita rested his head on the command seat impatiently and ignored the cold wind.

But it didn't seem to want to just let it go. It blew past among the ancient machines that were not being used. It carried a strong smell of rust and hit Savita's face hard.

It was like having someone pour a bucket of cold blood on you.

Sevatar let out a deep breath, and then finally retorted: "It would be a mistake not to let you stay in the material world? Where can I find a dying sun for you?"

The sound of wind is still there.

"No, don't even think about it. Those galaxies are inhabited, and their suns are also very healthy. What qualifications do you and I have to deprive them of what they rely on for survival, or is this how Shen taught you? "

As Sevatar spoke, he supported his face with his right hand. His left hand reached out like lightning, and his sharp five fingers clenched in the air, catching a ray of breeze. It didn't resist, it just slipped quietly through his fingers.

Silence returned to the bridge, and there was no more sound. He smiled with satisfaction, looked sideways out of the porthole, and began to estimate how long the voyage could last.

The Soul of Night no longer belongs to the material world. It needs 'fuel' every minute and every second it stays here. In other words, when the last afterglow of the sun in Calth has burned out, the Soul of Night will He had to return to the wilderness and rest under the ashes of the dead.

Maybe she will be awakened in the future, but this journey is destined to end soon

"Increase the horsepower." Savita ordered in annoyance. "See if you can get to Undermount before you run out of fuel."

A breeze blew by in response. Sevatar stood up slowly with his chain halberd in hand and left the main bridge without saying a word.

Undermount is the capital of the southern division of the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar. Thousands of years ago, it was a remote world that received little attention, but now it has become a fairly well-developed galaxy.

The garrison is powerful and equipped with a forging world, which can steadily produce warships and various weapons and armor every year. Although this place is remote, it is definitely not barren and can be completely self-sufficient.

Sevatar knew something better - Robert Guilliman had one of his anti-psionic troops stationed somewhere here.

No, maybe they shouldn't be called troops anymore, but a warband

Sevatar sank thoughtfully into the darkness.

Without any hindrance, he easily arrived at a conference room, which was already packed. The surviving officers of the Sons of Calth were debating among themselves, while the Nightborne stood aside in silence, with no intention of getting involved.

This matter made Sevita frown - he couldn't remember how many times he had said this, but both within Night Blade and the other four sub-groups seemed to like to remain silent on such occasions.

Simply incorrigible

He walked out of the darkness slightly annoyed, and the discussion died down, but soon resumed. The Sons of Calth had learned to turn a blind eye to such things, but Sevatar was not happy about it.

He walked expressionlessly towards Hectors Calgio, the Chapter Master of the Sons of Calth, who was scowling over a data pad.

"Why are you so worried, Calgio?"

The Chapter Master shook his head silently and handed the data pad in his hand to Sevatar. The numbers on it were anything but pleasant, and Sevatar couldn't help but frown.

Night Soul's fuel may bottom out at any time, and even if he has started to provide energy for it himself, he cannot slow down this trend.

He must control his power.

If he abandoned the body, he could indeed let the Night Soul sail for a few more years or even more than ten years without any pressure, but if he did that, the Andemang galaxy would be destroyed.

The spiral of vengeance will drag every planet out there into it.

But they were running out of supplies.

People need food, and the Astartes may be able to survive for a long time without eating or drinking, but the Astartes are not the only ones on the Night Soul at this moment, the civilians and auxiliaries of Calth are also among them.

They had been sailing for a whole week, and every bit of military supplies had been distributed to the civilians. The soldiers can rely on military discipline to survive for a few more days, but the civilians are another matter.

Sevatar knew what hunger felt like, and he also knew what hunger could transform a person into.

In other words, they must find a world that can provide basic supplies as soon as possible - don't think this is easy. Even today, not every galaxy in the extreme star field is suitable for human habitation.

There are always some planets that are not welcoming to humans. Unfortunately, their routes are basically all such worlds, if the Night Soul cannot send them to Undermount before running out of fuel.

"I understand," Sevatar said. "Then let's change the direction a little bit. I remember that Andemang was still conducting surveys not long ago. Their report showed that there are several inhabited systems near the southern capital that have not yet been completely developed."

"Most of these galaxies sent colonists during the Great Crusade. Although they lost contact with you because of the weakening of the star torch, they should still be alive. Let's resupply first and then make other plans."

Calgio nodded solemnly.

He did not ask why Sevatar knew more about the Ultramarines than he, a son of Guilliman.

The meeting ended quickly, and the people of Calth barely survived another two days in the supernatural cold brought by the Night Soul. They have always had some unspeakable romantic fantasy about the stars.

Now, this fantasy is completely dead. Voyaging in the void is by no means romantic. On the contrary, it is extremely dangerous. The difficulties you encountered in life in the past seem to be nothing in front of you.

But they survived, and on the ninth day of their voyage, they discovered a small world on the route.

The Night Soul's unmanned instruments gave it a 'habitable' rating, and remote sensing mapping showed that it did not have any on-orbit defenses.

So everything went as planned. They entered orbit early in the morning, entered the atmosphere, and landed on a plain. The dew on the grass was blown away by the strong wind, and the Night Soul also turned into a foam-like phantom and disappeared into the air.

Some of the vehicles taken away from Calth played an important role at this moment. The situation around the plain was quickly identified. At the same time, the priests of Calth Mechanicus showed amazing efficiency in the process.

However, in just four hours, a camp with a certain degree of defense capabilities, the ability to generate electricity independently, and equipped with several medical rooms was established.

When the heavy machine gun and artillery positions from Cowes began to be deployed one by one, the scouts who had left the camp to explore the situation also returned with fully loaded vehicles. They brought enough food and some other things that gave Sevata a headache. information.

"Orcs?" he spat out a curse. "damn it."

——

Robert Guilliman lit the torch and walked up the wall. The firelight stretched his shadow very long, and he didn't look like a human being at all.

Namath, the city beneath his feet, was not large, but its first lord was a very prescient man. He strictly urged the craftsmen and people to build thick and wide walls, and successfully hollowed them out. Your own money, and people’s money.

He eventually died under the angry pitchforks of the people.

A few years later, his tax minister was elected to the lordship by everyone, and the first order he issued was to continue to maintain the city wall. This time, no one had any objections because the Greenskins had been fighting them for more than a year.

To this day, Namath still maintains this tradition.

Guilliman liked this, but he would not say it aloud. He has realized how much impact his words and actions can have on the people around him, and he has begun to be cautious about his words and actions - or, in other words, speak less.

He does more and talks less, and those who consider themselves his servants are often frightened by this, thinking that they have done something bad, which has led to his dissatisfaction.

This thought troubled Guilliman greatly, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He walked towards the middle of this section of the wall, where a man was waiting. He is here tonight leading his men on duty, and it is for him that Guilliman has come.

His heavy footsteps attracted people's attention, and his target turned his head and gestured to the people behind him. After saluting, the soldiers in thick leather armor returned to the tower at the end of the wall to rest for a while.

Normally, they would be happy to carry out this order, but now, they walked slowly, even reluctantly - everyone would look back at Robert Guilliman from time to time, trying to get something from him some encouragement.

Guilliman forced himself to look at each of them.

At the same time, Dominion also walked up to him. He was covered in blood.

"My lord." The knight with tattered armor and pale face touched his chest and bowed. "What do you want?"

I have some questions for you. Guilliman said. In the early hours of this morning, our soldiers on this wall reported that they saw something in the sky.

Dominion, whose eyeballs were so swollen that they almost fell out of their sockets, suddenly realized. He nodded: "Ah, I heard that too. But it's probably just their hallucination, or they mistakenly took it as a sign of the coming storm."

Guilliman shook his head and interrupted.

The humidity in the air has not changed, and the wind has not picked up, not to mention it is not the rainy season, Dominion. Either they all went crazy collectively, or they all really saw some giant dragon flying in the sky. Either way, this is not good news for us.

"But the dragon is just a creature in myths and legends, my lord." The knight said doubtfully. "If they existed, we would have seen them countless times over the years."

Before I appeared, didn’t you think I existed in myths and legends? Broaden your horizons, Dominion. What if that's not a dragon, but a battleship?

"Battleship?" The knight became even more confused.

Guilliman stared at him and said nothing. The word he had retrieved from memory was now irrelevant.

The moonlight was particularly strong tonight, probably because the clouds were torn apart by the so-called dragon. The moonlight shone directly on Domin, as if he didn't exist.

The light from the torch in Guilliman's hand and the brazier not far away did not illuminate his face, which was still bloodied and pale.

"My lord?" the knight called seemingly ignorant. "I am dead, my lord."

Yes I know. Guilliman closed his eyes and answered in his mind.

Knight Dominion was indeed dead, on that grassland. The cause of his death can be easily summarized: severe shock and cardiac arrest caused by excessive exertion. Guilliman knew the reason too - of course he did, he was the culprit.

He moved too fast and his expression was too ferocious. He was too anxious at that time and his mind went blank. He just wanted to stop Dominion from screaming.

He was even ready to explain everything to the knight. After all, these secrets existed in his heart, which was also a kind of torture for him.

But Dominion died, and the way he died was very absurd, but also very reasonable.

You probably thought I was some kind of monster before you died, right? Dominion? This is why you are so afraid.

Robert Guilliman opened his eyes. Dominion was gone, but his guilt remained. According to common sense, he should not care so much about the life and death of a mortal.

But, he just cares. If he hadn't taken the name and identity of Robert Guilliman, maybe he wouldn't have to care about these things and he could be free to do whatever he wanted.

But now he is 'Robert Guilliman', the son of the Emperor, the Son of Light in local myths and legends, the hero destined to save everyone. People trust him, rely on him, and are even willing to die for him.

If that's the case, then he must care.

The moonlight was still shining, and Guilliman turned and left, walking down the city wall. He could hear the soldiers whispering in the tower, and those words full of trust and admiration made him feel doubly painful.

He soon returned to the lord's mansion. No one lived here except him. Lord Kamo voluntarily gave up the place. Of course, it was only voluntary for him.

For Guilliman, this was completely a kind of compulsion. He was convinced that if he didn't agree at that time, Lord Kamo would die on the spot.

The old man truly saw him as his Savior and followed him wholeheartedly. In his simple worldview, the Son of God deserves the best.

Guilliman smiled bitterly and walked into the deepest part of the mansion. This was once the wine cellar used by Lord Camor to store wine, but now it was filled with a vague stench.

A wooden bed was placed in the center of the empty wine cellar, covered with white cloth, showing a human silhouette. Guilliman walked over and lifted up the white cloth, and saw the real Dominion.

He gritted his teeth, feeling genuine disgust at what he had done. Immediately afterwards, he bent down and gently twisted open the knight's skull that had been cut open with his right hand.

"I'm sorry," Guilliman said bitterly. "But I have to do it."

The fire of not long ago appeared in front of his eyes - the wine stored by Lord Camo was burned to the ground, and the green-skinned corpse crackled in the burning fire. However, no matter how many times they are cauterized, their corpse tissue cannot be completely removed.

Then Guilliman knew that the plan to use fire to permanently eliminate future troubles could not be realized, at least not with such flames. There is a word in his mind called promethium, but it is absolutely impossible for him to synthesize this element now.

He can only take the wrong path, he must. So he had a crazy plan. But it didn't matter, just be crazy, he had sworn to protect them.

He looked at the knight's opened head. Where the brain should have been stored, there was a mass of light red flesh beating, looking as if it was alive.

Guilliman put the skull back on with trembling hands.

The piece of flesh came from his heart area, he could detect it. Even if it leaves the body, he can still feel its beating and its current condition.

It was changing Dominion's body.

Guilliman sat feebly aside and began to wait for dawn. He didn't know that in the courtyard of the lord's mansion, a black bird was staring at the ground with its head tilted. Its gaze seemed to be able to reach down to the basement and see everything here.

In the dark, a voice chuckled.

"Look! Look at the King of Misery, there is no flesh and blood under his gorgeous armor. He is sworn to be a shield, but he is only a liar!"

Unpleasant bird calls began to echo over the city.

“Look at his people—” He laughed. "——When will we discover his truth!"