40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 654 36. Belated Judgment (IX, Plans Cannot Keep Up with Changes)

One thousandth of a second later, the lion sword collided with a bent wooden staff.

Indescribable loud noises and light were born without reservation from the intersection of this blow, and thousands of wailing souls flashed from the surface of the wooden staff.

Amid the explosion, light and tiny screams, the lion took a step back.

He wanted to slash again with his sword, seize the initiative and speed advantage, and exile the evil creature before it cast a spell, but he failed. The evil creature just tilted the staff slightly, and another silver light suddenly flashed from the tip.

This light easily tore through the laws of nature and summoned a gust of cold wind that even the lion could hardly resist - this immediately aroused his vigilance.

This was not the first time he had dealt with the demons of Tzeentch, and he knew very well how difficult they were.

Although ordinary battles are dangerous for both sides, they still cannot escape the process of setting and solving problems. Fighting with them is different. These noisy bird creatures will not ask questions one by one. What they prefer to do is to ask a hundred questions in an instant.

Can't see clearly or understand? Very good, this is what they want.

The cold wind was biting, and the incomprehensible evil power penetrated into the lion's bones through the gaps in the armor, making him feel cold.

He didn't like the state religion, but the armor itself was still blessed by several devout priests. However, judging from the current situation, either those priests were not devout enough, or the power represented by the devil and the evil magic it used was beyond the scope of what "faith" could affect on a daily basis.

So you are not here, father.

The lion clenched the lion sword and sneered.

Very good.

The cold wind intensified and turned into a gust of wind, blowing all the flames around the fortress out. The temperature changed from a terrifying mountain fire scene to an extremely cold glacier in an instant. The grass and trees died abnormally, and the dark ice spread slowly on the ground.

The lion was blown back repeatedly and had to block with his sword.

The broad blade of the lion sword blocked his face, and only the blindfolded old knight in the courtyard could see his expression at this moment - his beard and hair were flying wildly, his face was frosted, and his deep green eyes were serious and cold, without any intention of retreating.

The next second, accompanied by a low roar, he actually took a step forward against the bone-scratching poisonous wind. Then the second step, the third step.

When he took the fourth step, his slow steps turned into running, and then charging. The lion sword was lowered, and the blade crossed the ground, sparks flew, and the ice was cut off.

The Lord of Changes immediately let out a scream, and Serafax barely climbed up from behind it. His face covered with blood was in a mess, and only a vague shape could be seen.

Whether he saw the lion's appearance at this time was a complete unknown. However, one thing is very clear - he was not panicked.

Facing the charge of the First Primarch, Lion El'Jonson, who was unstoppable by magic and full of murderous intent, Serafax even behaved unusually calmly.

He held a mirror in his right hand.

Silver light flashed, and large pieces of light patterns suddenly appeared around the demon. Once they appeared, they quickly turned into reversed magic circles. Dozens of fireballs whizzed out from them, hitting the lion without bias, and completely covering every corner in front of and behind him.

The fireballs exploded, the ground shook, and the soil flew up, forming a strange sight like a reverse waterfall. A broad and sharp sword came out of it without bias, piercing and cutting off the earth curtain cleanly.

The lion rushed out of it, with his right shoulder forward. His strength and speed wrapped in armor, knocked the gravel and charcoal out like bullets.

The Lord of Change raised his scepter seriously. Not only did he not underestimate them, but he intercepted these "bullets" firmly. Then the wings behind it flapped, blue light flashed, the broken stones were integrated together, the ground trembled, the soil was pulled up and attached to the stone.

Through the combination of the extraordinary evil power, a giant sword not much smaller than the lion sword was born abruptly - without any hesitation, more fireballs shot out from the light pattern, interfering with the lion's charge and vision.

The earth giant sword was not willing to lag behind, hanging upside down like a ghost, and stabbed the lion closely behind the fireballs.

All this was terrifying enough, but the Lord of Change still felt it was not enough, and even began to prepare the next spell. The dark smoke rose from its feet, and countless wailing human faces flickered in it.

It valued the lion so much, but it was still not enough.

Lion El'Jonson came in front of it in the sixth second of the charge.

Incomparably firm, incomparably pure. External objects cannot hurt him, evil magic cannot trap him, and any strategy is useless to him.

He is the kind of person who will never be shaken by anything as long as he holds the sword. Serafax's voice spread into the demon's thoughts along the mental link, floating like catkins.

He was already extremely weak, and the demon clearly smelled it. If it wanted, now would be a good time to seize the body.

Serafax could be called a perfect body, and he was fully capable of supporting it in the material world for another few centuries

But no.

Compared to what he was going to do, the idea of ​​staying here for a few centuries was too boring and too conservative.

The Lord of Change opened his chest without hesitation, letting the lion sword pierce him. The smoke screamed and wrapped around the lion, flashing like real smoke, sinking into his body and starting to bite wildly.

This would bring extreme pain - this was not an empty talk, the demon clearly saw that the Caliban man's face suddenly turned pale, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, but his hand holding the sword did not tremble at all.

His five fingers were as firm as python's teeth, biting the hilt tightly. He turned the blade, cut the demon in half without retreating, and then rushed towards Serafax.

It was really terrifying. The Lord of Change gave a heartfelt praise.

The last spell gathered in its eyes.

Eight seconds after the charge began, the lion's sword approached Serafax's neck, who was unable to resist. His strike was perfect, with both hands holding the sword, and the power and speed were not reduced at all.

This sword definitely cut off Serafax's head, but the last thing the wizard did before his death was very simple.

He raised his right hand, and silver light burst out from his palm, like the birth of the world.

The lion heard a buzzing sound from behind.

He turned his head and saw the beheaded demon opening its beak triumphantly. One of its eyes flashed like a mirror, firmly enclosing his figure.

After nine thousandths of a second, the mirror merged into one, the lion disappeared without a trace, and Serafax's headless body fell to the ground and stood up again.

He turned around with difficulty, ignoring the corpse of the demon, and just walked towards the inner courtyard.

The blindfolded old knight stared at all this in silence, and another ray of light burst out from the inner courtyard with the door wide open behind him.

——

"Come closer to me!" Zabril shouted.

His order was faithfully and unreservedly carried out - everyone, whether civilians or his brothers, ran to him sooner or later after hearing this order.

Seventy-seven Astartes and the twenty-one civilians who survived by chance huddled together behind the shelter made of the ruins of vehicles.

The situation was getting worse.

Zabril instinctively gripped his grenade launcher.

How to describe this? He had no definite clue, he could only say that everything happened in an instant.

The lions stepped into the depths of the forest, they rushed to the convoy to save the civilians, the bombing fell on the defense line, and groups of armored troops rushed down from the distant hills like a tide, making the already shaky defense line more dangerous.

People were dying every moment, and when Zabril was busy dragging a child out of her father who was only half a body left, his sensitive perception told him that two legion brothers were killed in the bombing about seventy meters behind him.

What killed them was the powerful artillery bombardment.

Zabril didn't feel sorry for them. To be honest, it was a blessing to die under the bombardment, because you wouldn't even leave a complete body. Death only happened in an instant. Compared with tens of thousands of other ways to die, this was already a better one.

But he was indeed angry.

Ten thousand years ago, he was confused, helpless and angry, like a child trapped at home who couldn't find a way out. Ten thousand years later, 'now', he was still experiencing all this on Caliban, but the difference was that he was no longer confused.

It was just that his anger intensified.

Why? Why?

Zabril looked down at the girl lying in his arms. She was completely dumbfounded. Her complexion was healthy, and she obviously often basked in the sun, but now there were two sickly blushes floating on her cheeks.

She was almost indifferent to everything in the outside world. She would only tremble when more shells landed, and then grab the side of Gabriel's hood more tightly.

"We must evacuate." Their new recruit, Azriel, spoke in a forced calm tone.

Zabril did not criticize his attempt to remain calm. To be honest, it was quite good to be able to show this. At least he understood what calmness meant. The old knight turned his eyes silently behind the eyepiece and looked at his servant.

Asmodai, who was wearing heavy training armor, did not put down his visor. The half of his face that was exposed was full of sweat. His gnashing teeth and deep hatred worked seamlessly.

However, his expression was completely inconsistent with his behavior. Although he acted like a fool who had lost his self-control and the last bit of intelligence, he always kept a pair of mother and son firmly behind him.

Zabril would not admit that he suddenly wanted to laugh at this moment.

"You are right, Azriel." The old knight said, and then called their only think tank. "Confirm the situation, Bevidan, I give you authorization."

Because there were civilians present, he used a more obscure statement, but this obviously could not satisfy the survivors.

A man who lost his wife and parents suddenly got rid of his dumbfounded state after hearing these words, and his mind returned from madness for a short time. Tears rolled out of his eyes, he roared, jumped up hysterically, and began to scream continuously.

"What happened, sir?!" He asked with tears and laughter, like a child who asked his parents for candy but was not satisfied.

And Zabril noticed that his parents' blood was still on his face, and his wife's pendant was held in his hand, revealing only a little glittering gold.

"Enemy attack." The old knight answered calmly, his heartbeat was slower than usual when he lied.

"In the name of Leon - these traitors must be executed!" Hearing his words, an old man wearing glasses suddenly spoke among the civilians.

The Angels of Absolution were silent for this sentence, but most of the survivors responded to his words. Zabril suppressed the urge to sigh and sent more orders to the communication channel through the neural link quite calmly.

He had considered almost everything, including the layout, arrangements, and how to deal with various emergencies next, except one.

In the next second, Bevidan almost screamed into his thoughts.

+ It's the lion! +

What?

The think tank continued to scream.

+ It's him! +

Zabril was silent for half a second, put the girl down, suddenly raised his gun and stood up, and poked his head out from behind the wreckage of the vehicle used as a cover.

In the torrent of armor rolling forward, he saw a group of countercurrent figures who appeared from nowhere.

There were two people in black armor, winged helmets, and Susha led the way. One had golden hair and armor, and his emerald eyes reflected the sword light. The other had white hair and was old, with his prosthetic limbs and one arm hidden under his cloak.

After Zabril retreated into the shelter, he felt his blood coagulate.

He took a deep breath, and then stood up again without hesitation.

This time, he did not focus on the people going upstream, but strictly used the skills he gained from tactical training to accurately and quickly analyze the direction in which the current situation would develop.

Flanking is a tactic that the lion likes very much, and he uses it very well. Many times, his enemies were shot and killed by explosive bombs before they even realized that they had fallen into a trap.

This time seemed to be no exception. The armored unit that ran over the defense line faced another force led by the lion head-on. The First Legion has never lacked destructive firepower, so the armored unit might find it difficult to get any benefits from them.

The old knight immediately decided to evacuate the place and divided the plan into two steps.

One is to escort the civilians to a safe place away from the battle, and the other is to leave immediately after doing this, and never get entangled with any party in the battle.

However, plans always cannot keep up with changes.

A voice broke into his communication channel.

"Zabriel." Sir Luther of the First Legion called him in the center of the battlefield. "We need to meet."

The old knight's right hand shook, and the grenade launcher almost fell.