40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 602 120. Dark Crusade (41)

"I want to regroup the fleet," Malakin Foros said.

His fingers were trembling, but his voice was not. His voice sounded calm and firm, reason brewing in it, and every syllable clear.

The only remaining communication equipment of the Red Tear captured it completely, and the electromagnetic signal was transmitted immediately. The two battle barges of the Lamentor, the Mother of Tears and the Daughter of Storms, were able to hear the Chapter Master's voice accurately.

After the secret key verification passed, they immediately spread the order to the entire fleet's communication network without any hesitation. In the next moment, at least ten captains began to ask for battle orders and report specific situations.

They longed for leadership, at least a simple order. For example, no one was blind when attacking or retreating. It was common to install artificial eyes. Everyone could see the continuous fire on the Red Tears.

However, Malakin Flowers did not give any form of response.

There was no other reason than that he was already far away from the communication equipment. His hand also moved away from the microphone and instead held a knife.

It was a long, wide-edged sword with a straight and graceful shape. The eagle-wing guard was inlaid with a scarlet gem. The surface of the silver-white blade was covered with flashing light blue inscriptions. Once stained with blood, they would It will turn into a complete scarlet color.

This weapon is called Redemption, born from the hands of the angel himself. As for the runes, they come from the Space Wolves.

The wolves of Fenris once fought side by side with the Lamenters in a war. These runes, called apotropaic runes, were gifts from the wolves afterwards and were a proof of friendship.

After a century and twenty-four years, this knife was invincible in Malakin's hands.

There are three reasons. First, salvation is a sharp tool for blowing hair and breaking hair. Second, Malakin himself is an excellent warrior and an experienced duelist. Third, those evil-dispelling charms can really drive away evil spirits.

He grasped salvation and drew it out. With a flash of cold light, it sank into a mass of smelly flesh and blood, splashing with sharp blood. Then came the second sword, which turned from offense to defense, and completely blocked the dangerous slash of a long serrated blade.

Malakin moved his steps, holding the knife with both hands in the burning main bridge of the Red Tears, then strode forward, and the blade cut into a burly body again.

The demon roared lowly, and blasphemous words spewed out from between its fangs and sharp teeth. Malakin did not listen, but concentrated on ducking with his head lowered. At the same time, he rotated his wrist, so that Salvation deftly turned into a whirlwind and slashed diagonally into the demon's neck.

The light blue exorcism talisman completely turned scarlet at this moment, and dark flames rushed out of the blade, replacing the decomposition force field and blurring a certain boundary that should have been indestructible.

Malakin let out a low roar, lowered his knees, exerted force on his waist, and the redemption burning with black flames easily cut the demon itself and the brass armor in half at this moment.

The smelly flesh and blood fell to the ground, and a huge amount of blood spurted out, polluting the glorious ground of the Red Tears that had a history of ten thousand years. The Weeper spat out a mouthful of turbid blood, ran over the demon's corpse with his feet in disgust, and turned around to run to another battlefield.

There, the Holy Blood Guard and his brothers were fighting against the demons.

If possible, Malakin really wanted to be the only one left here. He would rather face these evil spirits alone than see another descendant of an angel die.

The image of Sanguinius being taken away came back to his mind at this moment, forcing his heart to beat faster, and his temples on both sides began to hurt, as if someone was drilling into him with a drill.

Stop thinking about it, Malakin advised himself. He instinctively took a deep breath. At this moment, the smell of blood transcended the obstruction of the breathing grille and reached his nasal cavity, bringing with it some deep-seated terrifying desire.

His sharp canine teeth couldn't help but poke out of his lips at this moment, and the sweet, fragrant and mellow taste of Baal's blood wine he had tasted came back.

Malakin clenched the long knife in his hand.

The coldness of redemption dispelled his desire and all those unrealistic fantasies. It is like a good teacher, always able to give Malakin a heavy blow when he is unable to resist something, allowing him to wake up and face the cruel reality again.

There's nothing wrong with that. Malakin likes the real world, no matter how cruel it is.

He activated his jump pack, and the high-speed power carried him up into the air, onto a pillar that was about to collapse. He grabbed it and applied a slight force, causing it to collapse.

The heavy marble fell like a mountain, causing huge damage in the demonic tide, and also breathing a sigh of relief for the precarious front of the angel descendants.

The Seraphs of the Holy Blood Guard seized this opportunity and rushed into the ground formation waving the relics inherited from their predecessors. However, gang fighting is cruel, not to mention that the opponent at this moment is the demon army of Khorne.

Killing and death are a part of their instincts. The killings of the Holy Blood Guards had no effect at all, but instead caused a more bloody and fanatical counterattack.

Malakin saw with his own eyes a member of the Guards body being thrown down by dozens of vampires and then drowned. The two Lamenters who wanted to rescue him also died together, being beheaded and stabbed through the chest with a sharp knife.

He was furious, but there was nothing he could do. He could only draw out his bolter and squeeze the trigger to vent his anger.

Once upon a time, after the Battle of Terra, the number of angel descendants became a pain point, but today, this is no longer a problem.

Malakin never imagined that he would encounter the pain of his predecessors in this era.

Half a second later, he came to a tactical conclusion.

".Retreat," Malakin said, his voice echoing in the communication channel. "We cannot save the main bridge and must retreat to join the main force."

Someone immediately agreed, that was Seifran, the captain of the Holy Blood Guard: "That is true, Chapter Master Malakin, but I doubt whether we can really carry out your order."

I doubt it myself. Malakin almost blurted out these words, but he didn't. At the same time, there was a violent shaking from his jumping bag.

This means that the fuel has been exhausted, and he must land in a safer place, otherwise he is very likely to crash into the demonic tide.

The vampires will take great pleasure in dismembering him, and these things will not spare the death of any warrior. They are born to kill, the strong are the best, the weak are second, and killing is the most important.

He adjusted his direction and fell into the battle formation of the Lamenters. They had accompanied him aboard the Red Tear as an honor guard, but now they had to fight with a shortage of weapons.

Most have removed their belts and accompanying weapons for some flashy cape or pauldron decoration, in an attempt to achieve some degree of harmony.

This pursuit of beauty has become an unspeakable nightmare at this moment. More than one wailer does not even have a basic bolt pistol. He can only stand in front and speak with the sword in his hand.

This is completely desirable for the Khorne demons who like close combat. They advance in ecstasy, approaching gradually and taking their time.

Malarkin didn't even have to look closely to figure out what they were trying to do - it was to corner them and slowly nibble away at them.

The essence of war is to find where the enemy is and then attack him. And now, their weakness has been found.

Malakin clutches his salvation.

The matter has come to this, there is nothing more to say.

The demon as tall as a mountain took Sanguinius away. He couldn't imagine how the primarch without a helmet could fight such a monster in a vacuum.

The pessimistic Wailers believed that the best outcome would be for them to recover a whole body.

Despair was gathering in his heart, but the handle of salvation was still as cold as before. Its temperature passed through the gauntlet and was transmitted to his fingertips and two hearts, making him realize that the battle was not over yet.

This was not the time to mourn, not to mention the fact that the angel was most likely not dead at all. He was Sanguinius, and he would never die, especially not at the hands of a foul demon.

"Brothers!" Malakin raised the blade high, and anger exploded from his chest like a bomb, making his voice sound like thunder. "Make Sanguinius proud of us!"

He rushed towards the demonic tide and started slashing hard. The exorcism talisman drinks blood freely, the scarlet light never cuts off, and the dark flames hover above the blade, assisting him in killing.

Soon, the main space of the bridge was filled with corpses, and the unique stench of etheric flesh had completely destroyed the remaining sense of smell of the living, making it almost difficult for them to breathe.

Malakin gasped, looking at the demons crowding every inch of space in front of him, knowing in his heart that this was the last moment.

There will be no more support, and there are simply no conditions for support to be established.

The Blood Knights, led by Sentor, headed to the rear end of the Red Tear to surround the engine.

The Flesh Tearers exercised their natural instincts and rushed towards the most dangerous battlefields - where rifts in the Warp opened. Gabriel Seth undoubtedly recommended himself as the best candidate, but he had not contacted them for a long time.

The Blood Angels and Lamenters were responsible for guarding the main bridge. Due to the sudden outbreak of the war, not many Blood Angels were able to come. Chapter leader Luis Dante was also stopped by the loss of the Red Tear and wept. The soldier himself only had an honor guard of 200 people.

It can be said that it is a complete accident that they can persist until now.

Malakin Foros slowly grasped the blade in his hand, ready to hold it tightly for the last time. He had no regrets, he only hoped that he could live up to the Emperor and Sanguinius.

He heard a sound of thunder.

It seems far away, but it is actually very close. But in just a blink of an eye, it floated out of the darkness, casting a vast shadow. The clouds surged, golden light flashed, and a dazzling lightning suddenly descended and fell straight into the center of the demonic tide, creating a sheet of coke and fly ash.

Malakin looked at the lightning in disbelief, and the words he was supposed to say were completely destroyed by the chain lightning that followed.

The main bridge was as bright as day at this moment, and no darkness could remain. The lightning drove away everything, and easily destroyed the foundation of the demon tide's existence.

The evil ritual that maintained their arrival in the material world was interrupted by some force, and no matter how furiously the creatures roared, there was no way they could reverse the effects.

Is it the Emperor's apparition? Malakin asked shakily.

Two seconds later, he did not see the Emperor, but saw Gabriel Seth covered in blood.

His blood-tearer was stuck in the center of a demon's skull and spinning at high speed. The face of the flesh-tearer was covered in blood, and only his eyes were bright. He roared and applied force firmly, allowing the Bloodreaper to cut the demon in half from head to toe.

A group of Blood Angels galloped behind him and quite rebelliously got on the speeder. The motor roared, and they no longer bothered to care about anything else. They just controlled the speed attack boat to fire continuously and crash into the difficult enemies to clear the way for the brothers behind them.

Malakin took a deep breath and rushed towards Seth with the knife in hand.

It is not difficult to find the Flesh Tearer who is trapped in the demonic tide. He is often found wherever blood flies. After just half a minute, Malakin found him and asked a question.

"What was that just now?!"

"What do you think?" Gabriel Seth asked back.

His facial muscles were tense and twitching, a combination of unparalleled anger and the complex emotions of knowing what had happened to the Primarch, ultimately resulting in his expression at this moment.

Malakin only glanced at it and then looked away. He really couldn't tolerate himself looking directly at Seth at this moment. He didn't want to embarrass him, but the Flesh Tearer's next words were as deafening as a cannonball falling to the ground.

"There is no doubt that it is the Holy Relic of the Emperor, there's just one problem, the one who cast it was Callistarius. Yes, the little think tank who was declared brain dead. He somehow came back from the warp, I also saw some prophetic images about the original body.”

The Flesh Tearer stood up straight and penetrated the Blood Reaver in his hand deeply into the ground.

The specially treated tough head and the sword blade were easily submerged into the sea of ​​blood at his feet. He shook his head expressionlessly, and the emotions he showed almost made Malakin doubt his own eyes.

He couldn't believe he saw sadness on Gabriel Seth's face.

"What picture?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Fight." Flesh Tearer replied gravely. "The never-ending battle."

——

Sanguinius heard His voice.

As always, with the sound of the clash of swords, every syllable is like beating a war drum, calling for the coming of war.

"You will fight," He said. "You will prove your true nature."

Sanguinius silently clenched the sword in his hand and looked at a monster that was much taller than him.

Kabanha stared down at him, and a smile slowly appeared on the hideous and ugly animal head.