40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 651 34. Belated Judgment (VII, The Knight Who Watched the Dying Without Rescuing)

How did things turn out like this? He asked puzzled. Why did we take up arms against each other?

Serafax dragged himself towards a ruin.

Whatever magnificent walls it had once had, now only ruins remained. Flames burned the wood, and the charred marks left by the explosion were clearly visible on the broken bricks, and some human tissues were still hanging on the flying shrapnel.

There were also some people - some who did not die in the bombing - who were making unintelligible screams under the ruins.

Serafax could save them, but he didn't, even though it was not difficult for him. He only needed to pay a little attention and use a few tricks to save these people from death.

But he didn't do it.

He wouldn't do it.

It was meaningless. Somewhere in his heart, a voice warned him so.

They would die anyway. The bombing was still going on, and they could be shattered at any time. Even if you manage to escape to a bunker, how can you guarantee that you will not fall under the attack of tanks and artillery?

The civil war on Caliban has already begun, and all participants are armed with deadly weapons. They are a deadly legion, holding many taboo secrets, and all weapons are of the highest standard.

The Emperor gave them this power so that they could slaughter the enemies of mankind, but it caused such bitter consequences.

Serafax really wanted to know if he had thought about this day - or, did he foresee this?

The wizard could not figure out the answer.

He walked in silence, and the screams in the ruins were extremely clear to him. The blessing of the Lord of Change did not change his inner self, and his hearing was still sensitive.

Because of this, Serafax could even infer the location, status, and even gender and age of these survivors at the moment.

He heard several children crying.

"Suffering Lambs." A voice said to him. "Shouldn't you exercise the virtue of a knight? You should save them, that's the right way."

"How dare a demon discuss virtue with me?" Serafax asked coldly.

"A knight stood by me and watched me die?" The demon chuckled and whispered.

It was provocative, Serafax realized it, and he quickened his pace with indignation - but the demon didn't let him go so easily.

It stretched out its tone and began to mock sarcastically: "Please open your eyes and see the reality, Master of Ten Thousand Eyes."

"You are no different from the scum in your warband. You despise them, but you are actually not much better than them. They will drag everyone out of the ruins and kill them, and you will leave everyone to die."

"In this regard, you are not even as good as them. At least they dare to face their desires. They know why they kill, and you only use a great and noble goal to cover up all the darkness in your heart and convince yourself that this is necessary."

Serafax stepped into a burning forest unmoved.

"I thought you were here to help me." He said calmly. "I don't understand what good it would do you to laugh at me."

The demon sighed very gently.

"Help is a very general term. My temporary friend, there are countless ways to help a person. Help in your eyes and help in my eyes are two completely different concepts."

"But I want to correct one thing. I am not laughing at you. I just want to tell you that if a person does not dare to face his true thoughts, then what he asks for is doomed to fail."

Serafax ignored it.

He raised his hands, and the forest fire that had spread completely spread spontaneously, almost like a vassal, curled up on the road he had to pass. Just like that, he stepped into this road of fire in silence.

The ashes and charcoal of the grass and trees exploded and scattered under his feet, and the destructive power of Tzeentch was surging and boiling in his body.

He looked up and saw a fortress in the distance.

It was located in the burning forest, with mottled outer walls and many broken places. The glory it once carried had long dissipated, but the unique emblem of the Order Knights was still clearly visible, firmly staying just above the gate of the fortress.

The former site of the Grand Knights.

Countless knights and young apprentices trained in this fortress before Caliban returned to the Empire. The Lion himself ordered it abandoned and rebuilt elsewhere, and there are many different reasons. Serafax alone knows hundreds of them.

Some people think from the perspective of the Lion, while others have sinister intentions that overflow and flow between words, turning words into a dark quagmire.

These people claim that the Lion did this to gain more say in the Empire - or to show loyalty to his father.

It is not difficult to understand where their arguments are based, but this idea is ridiculous in the eyes of those who know the truth, but it is very credible to the general public.

At least, this is the case with the Caliban people.

"They never liked the Imperials who migrated from Terra, did they?" The demon asked in a relaxed tone. "These Imperials built factories with the machinery they brought, changing the landscape of Caliban and the traditions of the Caliban people."

"The forest is gone, but their lives have not become better. Before the Imperials came, they were woodcutters and farmers. After the Imperials came, they were still woodcutters and farmers, but there was one more way - to enter the factory."

"In contrast, the Imperials can live in the upper layers of the hive and enjoy a good life. At this time, where is the leader Lion El'Jonson who led them to join the Empire? Ah, he is realizing his glorious ambitions among the stars."

"Unfortunately, he has no time to care about you!"

The demon couldn't help laughing, and its laughter sounded like two pieces of flint rubbing against each other, and the sparks that burst out could ignite a fire at any time.

And this is exactly its purpose.

Serafax walked towards the fortress, and some memories came to his mind.

He was not the first Caliban to join the Legion. When he was born, most of the forests on Caliban had been cut down. The Great Expedition is a great cause, but any great cause is ultimately inseparable from the people.

Countless worlds provide materials for this, and Caliban is no exception. Most Calibans work in factories for their entire lives until they die of illness or are lucky enough to have a knight in reserve in their family.

In his childhood, Serafax did not show any extraordinary talents, but this was not a big problem for his parents. His parents were hunters who lived in seclusion in the forest and were unwilling to enter any eco-city or hive city to serve the empire.

Out of respect or fear for the lion, the imperial officials did not force them. Therefore, a considerable number of people chose to stay in the wilderness, away from the convenience of modern life, and would rather be accompanied by torches and hunting bows.

At the age of five, Serafax's father gave him a small bow and a skinning knife.

Serafax did not fully master the bow until he was eight years old, but skinning was different. He learned this technique early, but due to his age and physical strength, he could only deal with creatures such as rabbits or squirrels at that time.

When he was eight years old, he went into the forest alone to test his archery skills - of course, he got lost.

Every forest in Caliban was extremely dangerous, and even old hunters like his father would only hunt on the edge and never really go deep.

However, he did not tell the young Serafax about this at the time, probably because he thought that a child who couldn't even pull a small bow would not have such courage, but he obviously underestimated his son.

Serafax shot a deer that morning.

He could indeed pull the bow, but only for a short while. He couldn't keep the arrow on the bowstring for too long, so the arrow did not penetrate the deer's body as he wished, but only pierced into it.

It screamed and ran into the bushes, and Serafax chased it without hesitation and got lost.

Until now, he didn't know how long he was lost.

He only knew that when he woke up again, a group of giants in black armor had surrounded him. The leader was particularly tall, with blond hair, a sword in both hands, and stood under a statue of a blindfolded knight.

Trembling, Serafax heard the group of knights asking this man what to do with him.

"Did you find him outside the fortress?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Very good, then let him join the legion."

"As you command, my lord."

This was Serafax's first memory of the lion.

In hunger and fear, he escaped death and joined the First Legion as a reserve. From then on, he never saw his parents again. He had looked for them, but the wooden house was completely empty, and there was no one in sight.

Serafax ended his memories, slowly raised his head, and saw a statue surrounded by vines and moss.

The blindfolded knight, with an old horse wounded by an arrow lying at his feet. He held the shield in front of his chest, holding the sword in his left hand, the shape of his eye sockets looming behind the black cloth covering his eyes, as if he was staring at the thieves who shot arrows in secret and hurt his companions.

Be alert to those invisible threats.

Serafax took a step back and bowed slightly to him before walking into the overgrown courtyard.

It didn't take him long to reach the deepest part of the courtyard. Two heavy wooden doors inlaid with metal gave him a silent greeting in the vines and dust.

At this moment, the ground trembled, which meant that the bombing had officially begun, and the fleet of warships parked in Caliban's orbit would gradually split into several different groups.

The radicals planned to participate and go to the ground of Caliban. The cautious ones wanted to enter the orbital space station and find the culprit who issued the bombing order.

No matter what they chose, it would not have any impact on the matter. Serafax sincerely felt sorry for them, but the fact was that they could not change the future.

He had witnessed the Caliban Rebellion hundreds of times, and they had never jumped out of the fence of fate.

Serafax raised his right hand, and the two doors gradually twisted and deformed in the irresistible force invisible to the naked eye, the metal collapsed, the debris flew, and the wood creaked.

A rotten air rushed out through the wreckage of the door, Serafax ignored it all and stepped inside. The brazier that had been dried up suddenly lit up, illuminating the hall as bright as day.

Serafax took a breath lightly.

A huge, winged creature walked out from behind him.

"I'll ask you one last time -" it lowered its head and spoke. "——Do you really understand what you are doing?"

"I know."

The demon smiled. It was not easy for its bird-like head to show such an expression: "No, Serafax, you don't understand how crazy your behavior is."

It raised its right paw, then clenched it. Along with a ray of silver light, a curved staff was held in its hand.

There are many words on its surface, these words come from different races, some are extinct, some still exist, there is even High Gothic on it——

"For endless variations," the devil said with a smile.

Light bursts from the depths of the fortress.

Serafax didn't look anymore, just closed his eyes, and the past flowed through his heart like water.

A moment of confusion came to mind.

Do I really know what I'm doing? For a moment, he asked himself this, full of fear of the unknown. However, in just a moment, this fear was wiped away by his own hands.

——

The ground trembled and shook. The sky was darkened with flames as the deadly firepower of the First Legion wreaked havoc on their homeland.

Ordinary weapons are made to kill, but these are different. They are made with the tactical purpose of 'destruction' as the standard.

They should have been pointed at the enemies of mankind, but now they are aiming their guns at their compatriots and even their blood relatives.

The Lions wonder what was going on in the minds of those who pressed the launch button.

Frowning, he shrank his body and approached the observation window of the concrete bunker in a half-kneeling posture.

Its original defenders were burned to ashes by an incendiary bomb not long ago. For this reason, the Pardoning Angels and the Lions were able to file in and take a breather here. Since leaving the abandoned underground waterway, they have been running around on the battlefield.

They must always be aware of the direction and find a way to the Knights' old site from the sky full of artillery fire, while avoiding anyone they see along the way.

The situation in Caliban is extremely chaotic, and the dark paint that the First Army is proud of has become a nightmare at this moment. Friends and foes can no longer be easily distinguished. Everyone shouts in the name of the lion, and then points their swords at each other.

They can't be part of it, which would seriously slow things down, and besides, who knows what might happen if there's an entanglement with the past? The angels of forgiveness reached a consensus on this matter, and the process was quite simple.

As for the two young people, it is better not to mention their situation.

After a moment of observation, the lion withdrew his gaze. Before he could speak, Zabriel handed a makeshift helmet into his hands.

Facing the lion's puzzled gaze, the old knight raised his hand and pointed at the think tank who was resting at the end of the team: "Bevedan thinks you may need to hide your face in case of emergency."

The lion was silent for a moment and looked down at the helmet in his hand. It has no logo or decoration, and looks like an old-fashioned knight's helmet, except that the visor cannot be opened. Its surface is pitch black and has a simple matte finish.

".Bevedan."

"Primary body." Think Tank immediately opened his eyes and looked over.

The lion raised his helmet at him, scolded him, and asked with a smile: "How did you come up with the idea of ​​using psychic energy to make me a helmet on the battlefield?"

Before Belvidan could answer, he raised his hand and put on his helmet. The shape is just right, and as for weight, that's not an issue that the Lion needs to consider.

He left the bunker and walked to the other end of the trench. The Angels of Absolution followed silently and began to march on their former homeland.

The war situation has expanded, and now not only the Dark Angels are killing each other, but also the auxiliary troops and even civilians are trapped in it, unable to escape. War spares no one, it is an extremely ravenous beast and it is never bound by anything.

People can choose when the war starts, but they cannot choose when it ends

The lion tensed his face, cut off his thoughts, and focused all his attention on how to skillfully use his senses.

In the current complex situation, only he has the ability to lead the way as a pioneer. If possible, they must avoid everyone and successfully reach the Knights' old site within twenty-two hours.

Leaving the trenches, they saw a plain that was turning into scorched earth.

The defensive positions planned for the defense of the Eco-City are facing large-scale artillery bombardment. The density is so high that even civilian convoys leaving the city through the rear of the positions are included.

The lion sees clearly and his anger is clear.

If he could find out who gave the order, that person would be executed. Whatever the reason, what's wrong with the common people in Caliban?

"Primarch." Seeing him stop, Zabriel immediately spoke in a low voice as a reminder. "We can't stop."

"I know" the lion replied in a low voice.

And before he even finished speaking, a shell broke through the fire blockade of the position and fell into the convoy not far away. Several hover vehicles were immediately smashed into pieces, and the shock wave and air wave carried metal and human body fragments. Flying everywhere, causing secondary damage.

The wailing of the civilians rushed into the ears of the Angels of Absolution. The veterans were indifferent and just silently clenched their weapons, waiting for the order of the original body. Only the two young people subconsciously took steps.

Asmodai rushed particularly fast. If it weren't for the knight sergeant Afka's quick eyes and hands to pull him back, the squire in training armor would have rushed to the disaster site and was killed on the spot by the second falling shell.

The lion slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air, as if he had made up his mind.

Zabril clenched the hilt of the sword, then loosened it. He already knew what order their primarch would give.

Frankly speaking, he was proud of it.

"Follow my orders, Dark Angels," Lion El'Jonson said in a low voice. "When the bombing is over, go to rescue civilians immediately, but remember not to reveal your identity, understand?"

"What about you?" Azrael asked.

The lion did not answer.