40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 601 119. Dark Expedition (Forty)

Callistarius leaped into the dark elevator shaft.

His hands sank deep into the wall like iron hooks, and stayed firmly at the edge. Then he turned around, jumped deftly to a dark steel cable, and began to climb up.

At this moment, the chaos had left him, and his mind was extremely clear. The entire internal structure of the Red Tear had even formed a holographic map in his mind that could be zoomed in and out at any time. Even the details that he would not even pay attention to on weekdays emerged one by one.

For example, here is an old elevator that is about to reach the end of its service life.

Only some mortal servants are still using it. These people are responsible for transporting some of the work results of the scribes to the clerk's office. Due to the cumbersome stone slab weight measurement in the empire, they usually choose to use this shortcut to save time and energy.

And now, Callistarius has become one of them.

He had to take this shortcut to reach the eleventh deck of the Red Tear, where there was a small cabin that had been unused for a long time, but it had a very long history.

It had existed as early as the Great Crusade and was used by the Librarians, allowing them to have a quiet place to meditate and exercise their talents.

There were many similar rooms, and Calistarius alone knew of thirty-two. After the Nikaea Edict, these rooms were not abolished. Although the Librarians had moved out of them, they would still come back from time to time to seek inner peace.

It can be said that this is a tradition - as a Librarian, Calistarius naturally has a separate cabin.

He made special modifications to it, removing the bed and some precious works of art, and instead placed many books, as well as weapon racks and armor racks he built specifically for himself.

However, he shouldn't have to travel such a long distance to find weapons and armor. However, from the 22nd deck where the ceremony was held to the 16th deck where he was just now, let alone finding the arsenal, he didn't even see a single living person.

Calistarius didn't believe that everyone was dead, so he took a long detour to use the emergency communication platform to call the main bridge, but still didn't get any response.

In the communication channel, the only thing he got was a burst of noise and the pre-set alarm, which kept echoing in the blazing flames.

Since waking up or returning, Calistarius has seen corpses everywhere. Familiar or unfamiliar, humans, demons, monsters, all mixed together, forming a scarlet swamp. He himself was dragged in it, unable to leave, and unable to breathe.

He almost didn't dare to think about what no one responded to.

Calistarius took a deep breath, threw away unnecessary thoughts, concentrated his energy, and continued to climb up, but the steel cable in his hand began to tremble rapidly at this moment.

A sharp sound of steel friction came from above his head. Calistarius looked up and saw a falling elevator. The sparks caused by the rapid friction burst wildly from its bottom, and before it got close, it brought a burst of heat.

The young think tank's pupils shrank, and he jumped immediately to change the cable, but a second sound came to his ears - the distinctive saw blade of the chainsaw weapon turning.

Then there was a third sound, a roar that was far more fierce than the chainsaw weapon.

Calistarius held his breath, quietly tightened his muscles, hung the steel cable with one hand, and waited for the opportunity. After just one blink, the elevator passed Calistarius with a strong wind and dazzling sparks, and then quickly went down.

He clearly saw the two figures fighting on it, one wearing black and red armor, and the other

Calistarius no longer hesitated or waited. He exhaled the cold air that had been retained for a few seconds, and then jumped down resolutely.

He was not wearing armor or weapons, but he must not forget that he was still a psychic.

Psychics had nothing to do with armor or weapons. Psychics themselves were the most deadly weapons.

As he fell, the world began to slow down before his eyes. A pale electric snake suddenly appeared from the center of his unclenched palm, buzzing, and in just a moment it expanded into a huge energy ball that was enough to illuminate the entire wide elevator shaft - even Calistarius himself was surprised.

Psychic lightning can be regarded as the most basic psychic spell. He has used it at least 8,000 times, but never once has it been so violent.

It can be so powerful.

However, the opportunity for battle often only exists for a moment, and Calistarius must release this spell before it hurts him.

He stared at the other figure on the elevator and rushed towards it. The black and red warrior who was fighting with him keenly caught his presence, and then turned around and swung his sword immediately.

The blood-stained man-splitting saw in his hand changed its direction and even slowed down. It should have slashed at the opponent's chest at a rapid speed, but now it blocked a huge battle axe from a distance.

A second later, Calistarius fell from the sky.

The lightning in his hand started from the top of his head and poured into the body of the demon. It roared wildly, and its skin and flesh were immediately torn apart. The pale electric snakes drilled into its filthy flesh and blood and wreaked havoc, blood and flesh splattered, and bones flew everywhere.

One second passed, and the next second came quickly. Soon, the human-shattering saw was swung again. A head flew high into the air and fell into the boundless darkness at the bottom of the elevator shaft. The elevator followed closely behind, chasing its head with the huge corpse.

Callistarius clutched one left hand tightly.

"Hold tight!"

Gabriel Seth, Chapter Master of the Flesh Tearers, growled at him and immediately ignited the jump pack behind him.

When it was originally designed, it was never considered to carry two Astartes on its shoulders. Fortunately, Callistarius was not wearing armor at the moment, so their next 'jump' was completely smooth.

Before the fuel ran out, the Flesh Tearer took him back to the ground platform, away from the dark place. As soon as he landed on the ground, before he could even take a breath, Callistarius heard the voice of the Flesh Tearer in his ears.

"In the name of the throne."

The human-shattering saw suddenly flashed and lay across Callistarius' neck.

"Who are you?" Gabriel Seth asked coldly.

There were many small scars on his face, some of which had stopped bleeding, and some of which had not. The same was true for his armor, which was riddled with scars and filthy blood covering the surface of the armor, coating it with a bloody veil.

His anger was palpable, even after he had just accepted help from Callistarius.

The young think tank slowed down his breathing and replied restrainedly: "I am Callistarius, my lord, I am -"

"—I fucking know it."

Seth interrupted angrily and roughly, his fangs looming over his lips.

"The Librarian of the Blood Angels, I know, I know everything. But I don't care about that. I only know that he was declared brain dead a few hours ago, and the ritual to analyze the psychic signal failed, and you, Damn thing, you took over his body."

Inevitably, Callistarius took a deep breath while urging himself to meet his gaze. The renowned Gabriel Seth, Chapter Master of the Flesh Tearers, is a terrifyingly bad-tempered man.

Some describe him as the most savage of the Emperor's Angels of Death, and even among the Flesh Tearers, he stands out. This is true whether it is the fighting power or the anger hidden in the body.

Previously, Callistarius thought that this was just an exaggerated rumor, just like someone in the empire said that Yago Severtarion of the Midnight Blade was a complete madman, and it almost turned into a slander.

Now, he believes that there may be a reason why those rumors are so widely circulated.

However, Gabriel Seth did not take action immediately.

Callistarius knew how valuable this was, and with this alone, the Chapter Master of the Flesh Tearers could prove one thing: he was no monster.

The stare continues.

Callistarius did not explain in words, he knew the paleness of language. He stared fearlessly into the Flesh Tearer's black eyes, resisting any instinctive reaction caused by the weapon pressed against his neck.

He didn't resist or explain, he just stood there calmly and allowed Gabriel Seth to analyze everything about him. A minute later, the saw was put down and fell to the ground with a heavy muffled sound.

"Can you still fight?" Seth asked curtly.

"Yes." Callistarius said.

"Very good." Seth nodded, turned around and left.

His blood-stained cloak suddenly swept across the flames. The headless corpses nailed to the wall suffered less from the burning pain, but their flesh had already begun to melt.

This event, like their deaths, has been forged in the furnace of war. Callistarius hurried after him and got another question.

"How many more times can you cast a psychic spell like the one just now?"

He hesitated for a moment before replying: "At least twenty times."

Seth glanced back at him, and suddenly an ugly smile burst out of his throat, hoarse as if two pieces of wood that were wet with blood were rubbing against each other.

They advanced silently, striding along this road of death. About three hundred meters later, a faint shout reached their ears. The Flesh Tearer immediately broke into a run—in fact, a bolt.

Calistarius originally thought he would fall behind, but he was wrong. He didn't even have to put in much effort to keep up with Seth, who was wearing power armor.

He frowned in surprise and suspicion, and all the wrongness contained in everything he had experienced before came to his mind at this moment, and then turned into a kind of questioning of himself.

What have you become, Callistarius?

No one answered this question.

Ahead of him, Gabriel Seth roared into a battle.

The way he announced his arrival was extremely bloody. The human-splitting saw swept across and easily cut several vampires into two. Before the remains of their bodies hit the ground, the Flesh Tearers were running towards other targets.

His charge was uninterrupted, and so was his roar. If he hadn't still been wielding his sword like a champion, Callistarius might have really viewed him as a cruel beast, but he wasn't.

In fact, far from it, he is actually an extremely cunning warrior. Although he rushed into the ground formation alone, he would never meet those big guys who might hinder his steps.

From the beginning to now, his choice has always been the low-level soldier type of vampire. It is true that there are powerful individuals among the vampires, but those individuals are usually very easy to distinguish.

He rushed forward and killed along the way.

He tore off the heads of demons, dismembered them with skin and bones with the Flesh Saw, crushed their heads, and never missed any opportunity to create more bloody slaughter.

"Demons!" The Flesh Tearer roared. "In the name of Sanguinius--!"

He raised the Flesh Tearer high.

Calistarius clenched his fists, and a dazzling flash of light bloomed above everyone's head in the next second. A thundercloud was summoned from the High Heaven by his will, and golden lightning fell instantly, starting to cleanse the demons with unparalleled power.

One of the lightning bolts hit Gabriel Seth with great accuracy, not only did it not cause any damage, but also coated his weapons and armor with a layer of dazzling golden light.

In the following killings, every swing of his sword would lead the trend of lightning. The Flesh Tearer couldn't help but burst into a hearty laugh, and in the interval between battles, he rarely took the time to nod to Calistarius, as if in approval.

However, as the initiator of all this, the young think tank could not relax at all. He was even terrified - how could it be possible?

Why is this happening? That thundercloud, that golden lightning

Is that really my power?

Calistarius wanted to think, but he no longer had the luxury.

Amid a burst of bombs, a group of Astartes wearing blood-red power armor launched a counterattack.

They seized this huge opportunity, and their fighting was extremely brutal, without any hesitation. Every attack of each person was aimed at sending all enemies in front of them to the land of extinction. They carried an indescribable rage, and

A picture suddenly flashed before Calistarius's eyes.

Cold vacuum, boiling rage, a scarlet meteor swept across from the other side of the virtual realm.

Wearing brass armor, rushing through the asteroid belt, rolling over the burning wreckage of the warship, the needle-like hair was shiny red, holding a steel whip in one hand and a spear in the other, with sharp teeth and scarlet eyes.

It crashed into the center of the burning Red Tear, with thick smoke billowing.

When it reappeared, it had already passed the other end of the Red Tear, holding a being with white wings in its hand. Amid the spinning debris and twinkling stars, the demon disappeared.

Callistarius woke up from the illusion with a roar.