40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 609 126. Dark Crusade (Forty-six, Hope)

"My Lord." Dante said softly.

"I am listening." Sanguinius said without raising his head.

As usual, he sat on his throne, and a dazzling light refracted by hundreds of gems fell from the sky and shone on his body, making his golden hair sparkle.

Two strong mortal servants lifted his bloody wings so that their companions could remove the pieces of meat hanging on the bones for the angel.

This was Sanguinius's own wish, so even if they were unwilling or reluctant, these loyal people could only hold sharp knives and do bloody work on the angel's sacred white wings.

The blood of the primarch flowed down the ground, dyeing the stone bricks engraved with patterns and stories into a complete scarlet color, and the smell of blood lingered for a long time.

Dante stared at his Primarch, looking at the brand new armor, the bloody blade leaning against his hand, and the statue of the Emperor held in the angel's hand, his brows furrowed more and more.

He calmed down and spoke.

"The fleet is attacking the enemy, but their firepower-"

"- is very strong." Sanguinius raised his head and continued his words. "So it is difficult for destroyers and our carrier-based aircraft to approach the target, and the situation of boarding fish is not optimistic."

"Yes, I know this, Dante. The lifeblood of war is information. Long before you were ready to provide me with this intelligence, I had analyzed this through the observation window."

Dante was silent for a moment and replied: "I'm sorry, Primarch."

"I'm not scolding you."

The angel said, stood up and walked down the throne. His wings were no longer as bright as before, and the pale bones were exposed. The loss of flesh and blood caused by multiple holes and cuts made it look extremely terrifying.

The servants followed him anxiously, not knowing whether their work should continue. Sanguinius made a simple gesture to let them go.

After that, his voice became extremely cold, completely different from the Sanguinius Dante was familiar with.

"The Primarch's intelligence is far superior to any Astartes. I don't mean to insult or judge you, I am simply stating a fact."

"And this means that if I need to, I can turn my mind into an indestructible weapon. It only takes me a few seconds to process the torrent of data, and then turn them all into intelligence and information for my own use."

"This is what I should have done, my son, a precise, efficient and powerful war machine. I should have been like this, unshakable and ignoring difficulties."

He paused, his expression became complicated again. Dante tried to ask more questions, but Sanguinius did not give him the opportunity.

The angel turned around, returned to the throne, and raised the sword with one hand. The horrible wounds on his wings behind him had begun to stop bleeding, at an astonishing speed. Suddenly, with a bang, the angel threw down the scabbard hanging on his waist.

The solid scabbard wrapped in animal skins and gems fell into a pool of blood, splashing blood and rippling. The angel himself stared at the blade without saying a word.

From the few parts that were not covered by blood, Dante saw the eyes of the original body and looked at them. He forced himself not to look away, but the emotions contained in Sanguinius's eyes at this time were no longer something he could understand.

The angel put down his right hand, and the blade fell. The blood that had not dried on the sword did not fall to the ground, but stubbornly stayed on it.

He turned his wrist, held the blade upside down, walked past Dante who was silent, and strode away from this small throne room filled with the smell of blood.

At the moment of passing by, Dante found that the statue that was originally held in the hands of the original body had disappeared.

He hurried to catch up. The outer deck was in a horrific state. The bodies of the loyalists had not yet been collected and could only lie together with the dirty etheric spirits of the dead demons.

This was a helpless move. Now was not the time to give the dead a rest. The war was not over yet, and it could even be considered as just beginning. Everyone who was still alive had to provide their own strength for this war.

Servants were recruited as soldiers, soldiers were promoted to sergeants or platoon leaders, and the original officers now went a step further and had to coordinate the preparations for several battle positions, which was extremely stressful.

Batches of emergency supplies were transported out of the warehouse and placed in narrow or wide corridors, waiting to be used. Sanguinius walked past them and accepted people's salutes, but he had no intention of explaining to Dante.

At this moment, the only thing the Blood Angels' Chapter Master could do was to follow his Primarch closely, step through this hell paved with the corpses of brothers and brave men, and stand up straight to encourage people.

Their similar golden armor was stained with endless scarlet during this journey. Dante's brows were getting more and more furrowed, but Sanguinius's breathing became more and more relaxed and long. It was not until ten minutes later that they stepped into the nearest boarding deck and the silence was broken.

Between the empty apron and the huge cables with electric sparks, Sanguinius turned his head and looked at his son.

"I'm going to join the battle, Dante." The angel said slowly. "I should have done so long ago."

"Primarch? But there are no shuttles here. If you want to issue orders, I suggest you move to the Mother of Tears battle barge of the Weepers. She received the teachings from the Mechanicus eleven years ago."

Looking at Sanguinius's calm expression, Dante's voice could not help but become smaller and smaller until it completely disappeared.

"I don't need a shuttle. This war must be ended in the fastest and most direct way, and I am the best candidate."

". What do you want to do?"

"Win."

After that, the angel turned around, grabbed the helmet on the belt around his waist with one hand and put it on. It was tightly buckled with the neck armor, and pale white steam gushed out from the connection.

Sanguinius's face was hidden behind the eyepiece made of gold, steel and ruby, and people could no longer see half of his true appearance.

At the same time, the outer door of the boarding deck began to rise, and the air pressure suddenly changed. Dante's pupils shrank, and he finally realized what his original body wanted to do, but it was too late.

A burst of deep blue light swept through the angel's hand, and then the magnetic device on Dante's steel boots was suddenly activated, fixing him in place. No matter how he used the neural connection to try to shut down the magnetic device, it was useless.

Then his helmet floated up from behind his waist, broke free from the magnetic hook on its own, and buckled on his armor with a gentle force. The breathing grid was activated instantly and began to supply him with sufficient oxygen.

The inner door of the boarding deck was opened at this moment.

The coldness of the void rushed in, causing a thin layer of frost on Dante's golden armor. The light of the battleship's firing and explosion came from afar, illuminating their armor, and the power of destruction was presented to Dante in the most intuitive way.

He wanted to say something, but the words that should have been blurted out remained between his lips like ashes. At this moment, a sudden burst of brilliant light from the broken wings behind Sanguinius destroyed Dante's ability to speak.

He stared blankly at the pure golden, heart-stirring light, and forgot everything for a short time.

He watched them rush out from the depths of the angel's bones like water, filling the holes on the wings, smoothing out the new or old scars, and in just an instant, the entire boarding deck was as bright as day.

"Primarch?" Dante squeezed out the sound with difficulty.

Sanguinius did not answer, but slowly raised the sword, holding it tightly with both hands, and the mottled blood on the sword finally slowly disappeared under the shining light.

The wings behind him stretched out with this movement, the golden light was brilliant, the water was boiling, and it began to burn silently on his wings.

Dante stared at the back of his Primarch, watching this miraculous scene, and clenched his fists hard, trying to confirm whether he was dreaming, and his hand armor creaked.

"Just like me to you, my son, my father also has expectations for me."

In the light, Sanguinius slowly turned his head. Dante could only see a small half of his helmet and a goggle that was dyed golden by the boiling golden flames. Suddenly, Dante had a premonition.

He felt that the angel was going to say something to him. And these words were something he had never said to anyone before.

His premonition was not wrong.

"He had envisioned this long ago. He shaped my essence with unspeakable horrors, and believed that I would reverse it with the heart of humanity and dispel the darkness."

"His trust in me was too heavy, but he always believed it. He always believed that I could be a symbol, a symbol of hope, courage and justice."

"But I dare not agree. Until now, I don't think I can represent these qualities that are more precious than gold. Moreover, I failed, my son. If Calistarius hadn't risked his life to save me and bear my fall, I would never be able to say these words to you."

"But he was lost in the depths of the warp. He couldn't come back, at least not before he tamed the reins of those two terrible beasts. But how could he do this alone? I wanted to help him, but..."

The angel turned his head and faced the void, and the flames spread from his back to the tip of the sword.

"But my father told me that I have other things to do. I am a symbol. I don't have to believe whether I am really that glorious. I just need to do what I should do. That's all, Dante."

Dante wanted to ask questions with his lips trembling, but he didn't want to disturb his original body. The word "father" containing doubts and worries was swallowed back into his throat.

The next second, a flash of golden light flashed before his eyes, and the angel flapped his wings and rushed straight into the void at an indescribable and incomprehensible speed, like a sword blooming with infinite brilliance, easily cutting through the darkness.

The light from his wings illuminated the surrounding void. He flew, allowing every warship in the Red Tears fleet to see his figure.

The cheers like a tsunami rushed violently from the end of the light to Dante on the boarding deck of the Red Tears, bringing his spirit into a brighter world.

He was stunned, and it took him a while to realize that he was surrounded by excited people. The light showered down from above, and a dazzling human figure with wings on its back slid over their heads in the surging air waves, heading towards the darkness in the distance.

The crowd shouted.

The devout shouted the scriptures of the state religion, praising the names of the God-Emperor and Sanguinius, weeping and thanking them for their grace.

The brave waved their weapons, stared at the figure of the angel on the ground, prayed for him, and wished him victory. Their courage was thus integrated into the glory of Sanguinius, making his power even higher.

The surroundings were extremely noisy, but Dante was extremely confused, because among the people's shouts, he vaguely heard a distinctive voice.

The voice was neither pious nor fanatical; there was only one emotion in it. Dante listened for a long time before he was sure that the speaker was filled with sadness.

who is it? Who is so bold?

He turned his head and searched around against the crowd, and finally saw an ordinary and old face, an old man wearing linen clothes. His beard and hair were white, his face was full of wrinkles, and his hands tightly held a statue of the emperor that was about to break.

His face was full of a father's concern for his children, pure and straightforward, without any disguise.

In an instant, Dante felt as if he had been struck by lightning. He stood there, and the shouts around him faded away, leaving only a buzzing in his ears.

He wasn't sure.

What he discovered was enough to drive anyone crazy, even Dante. Therefore, he really didn't dare to confirm his guess, but he also didn't dare to deny it. So he just stood there, letting his heart beat faster and the air stay away from his body. It's almost hard to breathe.

In the crowd, the inconspicuous old man looked at him.

"He is indeed a sword," said the old man. "But he is also a bridge, Luis Dante. He doesn't understand how important he is, but I will tell him, and he will tell everyone. The light has come, so hope."

He turned and left.

There was a flash of light in Dante's eyes, and the illusory scene disappeared, and he suddenly returned to the real world.

Is it just a dream?

And the golden light still shining on his retina told him, no.

Dante took a deep breath, looked up into the distance, and happened to see it rushing towards the enemy ship with an indomitable attitude. Ignoring the artillery fire, melting the torpedoes, and tearing through the flames of the explosion, even the void shield was unable to stop it.

The feeling of transforming into a sword began to become clearer. Dante raised his hands to cover his chest. The dizziness in his head made him take a deep breath.

He didn't understand where this feeling came from, but it was undoubtedly correct, because the brilliance did sweep past the enemy's captured battleships like a sharp sword, and the three destroyers were immediately divided into two parts at this moment. 2. Turned into metal garbage in the explosion

And Sanguinius didn't stop.

He crashed headlong into their flagship.