40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 675 57. Belated Judgment (Twenty-three)

Long before Serafax was born, killing had already become a very simple thing.

Pull the trigger, bang, a life is gone, it's not difficult, even a child can do it easily. After the appearance of guns, they surpassed all other types of weapons, and they have never fallen behind even after tens of thousands of years.

It is a double-edged sword made by humans themselves. Although it gives weak people the power to resist, it will also drag more people into the chain reaction of violence.

However, compared with the complete killing system created by the human empire later, guns are just the most basic things.

So, yes, we are a race that teaches children how to hate and how to kill. The question is, who forces us to be so cruel?

Standing in the hot and smelly wind, Serafax thought so.

A fireball streaked through the dark twilight and hit not far behind him with a loud bang. The squeaking demonic beasts rushed over there like a moving black cloud, and the gunfire burst out for a while, and then was submerged.

Serafax didn't need to look back to know what the fireball was - a crashed gunboat carrying the remaining four living people, and now they were all dead, and the instigator was feasting on them.

However, the greed and ferocity rooted in the depths of their souls would never be satisfied. In a few seconds, this noisy black cloud gathered again and moved in another direction.

Serafax looked back and saw a position that was still resisting. A mortal flag stood in tatters on the top of the trench. The war and blood destroyed its surface, making it difficult for Serafax to recognize the identity of this still resisting unit.

However, perhaps it should not be described as a unit. There were only a dozen remnants, and they had been scattered and would soon die.

Serafax sighed. He had tried many times before he came here. He wanted to change his way of thinking, at least part of it, to that of the original Dark Angel.

In his expectation, this should not be so difficult. After all, he had been in madness for a long time. But expectations are just expectations after all. If everything is as simple as imagined, at least half of the evil and destruction in this world will disappear.

Of course, it may also increase by half.

There is no other way.

The Chaos Wizard turned around and began to run towards the trench, while pulling out the grenade launcher at his waist. He didn't need to aim, he just aimed at the top of the position and pulled the trigger.

Balls of fire began to explode in the black cloud, and those terrifying creatures with fangs and claws immediately turned around and pounced on him. Their minds were very simple, but they were still confused - in their perception, this person actually appeared suddenly, and a few seconds ago, there was nothing but blood and mud where he stood.

Serafax took all of this in, and soon realized that he had better throw away this part of the extraordinary evil power. For the whole plan and the role he was about to play, any mistake was unacceptable.

He put the gun back to his waist, and pulled out the power sword engraved with the knight's commandments, ready for battle, and at the same time swept all the things that were unnecessary for "Knight Captain Serafax" into the deepest darkness.

Not only that, he was also very careful to isolate them from the energy he brought. Those energies must be as pure as white paper, and nothing can leave a mark on them before it reaches the hands of the Emperor.

After doing all this, Serafax began to swing the sword. He has never been unfamiliar with this matter, and with the physical fitness of the knight captain back then, the first batch of beasts that attacked him were quickly killed.

However, Serafax did not expect one thing - just as he was preparing to deal with the upcoming second batch of demons, gunfire broke out again on the battlefield.

"Fire!" Someone roared hoarsely. "Cover him with firepower!"

The whistling red laser rain began to explode behind the dark clouds. The power was insufficient, and it was far from a qualitative change caused by quantitative change. Some of the demons quickly turned around in anger.

Serafax was slightly stunned. He didn't believe that the group of mortals didn't know that doing this was tantamount to seeking death, but they still did it.

Okay. The knight captain frowned and grasped the long sword, rushing into the herd in two steps. As the sword light danced, it seemed that a dirty blood rain suddenly fell.

But in just two seconds, Serafax broke out of their encirclement and rushed to the front of the position.

He jumped into the trench, and the corpses in front of him suddenly hit his eyes. He didn't have time to think more. Subconsciously, he rushed to the back of the trench with his body according to the mind that he had adjusted in the past.

Dark red things that could no longer be distinguished as minced meat or mud splashed under his feet, and the surrounding scenery quickly retreated. After four turns, he arrived at his destination. A large group of flying beasts were waving their front paws in frustration and attacking a fortification on the side of the trench.

It naturally couldn't hold on for long, but there were still red laser beams flying out of the remaining shooting holes.

Serafax's face couldn't help but darken. He didn't say anything, just drew his gun, changed the bullets, and then aimed at them and started to call out their names one by one.

If he could, he would choose to shoot, but there were still survivors in those fortifications, and he didn't think that the creation that was obviously made of cement and steel could withstand a volley of explosive bombs.

Soon, the small group of demons that invaded the remnants of the trenches were beaten into powder one by one, and then some faint shouts came from the door.

"Don't come out! It's not over yet!" Serafax almost roared in warning, then immediately turned around, threw his gun, and pounced on a large group of black clouds that were chasing him relentlessly.

He fought with concentration, with the physical fitness of ordinary Astartes, with swords, fists and will, rather than Chaos sorcery. The efficiency was naturally more than a hundred times worse, but for some reason, he felt a sense of peace in his heart.

A few minutes later, he sheathed his sword, pressed the last demon's corpse into the wall, smashed its bones, and then turned back to the fortifications, and the group of remnants shocked him again.

There were only six of them, all wounded and covered in blood, but they showed no signs of depression. One of the women without a helmet picked up his gun from the ground, shook off the dirt, and took out a standard Astartes bolter magazine from her waist, and handed it back to Serafax along with the gun.

"You——"

"——Sir, thank you for your help. The entire 11th Company of the 2nd Regiment of the Hessman Guards pays tribute to you."

The woman saluted him, the Sky Eagle Salute, and then spoke. Her voice was surprisingly loud, as if she had lost some of her hearing, and she could not hear Serafax's voice, but was reporting on her own.

"Now, we will continue to advance to the north of the Himalayan Plateau in accordance with the predetermined order to support the fourth line of defense there."

She pointed to the west.

Serafax looked down at her, then at the others behind her, and asked, "Just go?"

A man answered the woman's question: "Yes, sir, just go."

He patted his chest and wiped his face with the back of his hand. The blood-stained eyes were very young.

"Do you have any other people?"

"No, we are the last soldiers of the 11th Company--" The man, or boy, smiled, and there was no fear on his face. "--But, as Lord Rogal Dorn said, we fight, that's all."

Serafax looked around and fell into silence uncontrollably.

He had dreamed countless times of coming here at the right time to fight the just war that they should have fought. However, when he arrived here by any means and with untold hardships, he found that he actually still lacked knowledge of this war.

He had tried everything he could. During the 10,000 years of betrayal, he spent all his energy to explore the information of the Battle of Terra from all aspects. After that, he continued to deduce from different timelines.

But all this was not enough.

So, at this moment, he was speechless. The soldiers took his silence as a kind of acquiescence. The boy touched his superior with his elbow, and the woman saluted again.

She roared: "As the Emperor said, we fight until we die, my lord!"

The remnants turned around and quickly went away, and soon disappeared at the farthest end of the horizon. Serafax stood there for a long time, until he really couldn't see their shadows with his naked eyes at this moment, and then he walked away.

He was confused. He thought he would see the organized legions and auxiliary troops fighting against the demon army, and would see the primarchs fighting on the front line, but he was wrong. What he saw most was corpses.

Human corpses, demon corpses, and the wreckage of the Mechanicus's creations. There were ruins everywhere, black smoke covered the sky, and fire flashed above the clouds, and occasionally fell.

This doesn't look like a fierce battlefield, but rather like...

Serafax took a deep breath, cleared his mind, and turned on the communication system built into the power armor. As he expected, the main communication channel, which should have been noisy, was terribly quiet, and this was unreasonable.

The Military Affairs Department stipulated that any imperial army should follow a fixed frequency when fighting in a mixed formation, and set it as the main channel to facilitate communication between different troops. This place should be filled with the roars and roars of commanders, various requests for support, or urging for aerial bombing.

But it was dead silent here.

Serafax used the neural connection to control the power armor to switch channels. According to his memory, he began to try one by one.

First, the bombing warning, then the take-off notice, both channels were silent, so he turned to the more secretive channels.

The First Legion communication key stored in the power armor was immediately online, and more than a hundred new channels were projected to the left end of his eyes in the next second. The server starts checking the latest news. If there is any, it will automatically summarize it and put the important parts on the lower right side of the eyepiece for observation at any time.

Four minutes have passed, and the lower right side of Serafax's eyepiece is still blank. Nothing appears, only the boring and monotonous "beep" sound representing the success of the inspection keeps ringing.

Serafax walked out of the trench in silence. He needed to contact others so that he could grasp the overall situation.

The lack of intelligence is a fatal problem. Although he had made the worst assumptions about the severity of the war due to insufficient intelligence, that was just his assumption. The real situation was far beyond his imagination.

If he used the power that did not belong to the ‘Knight Captain’ to set up a small magic circle, he could solve the problem quickly, but it would also bring many new problems, two of which were the most serious.

First, the four gods were staring at this place, and every demon was their eyes and ears. He could not lose this disguise, at least not yet. Second, doing so would likely cause the energy he brought to be polluted.

With no other choice, Serafax began to add power to the sound source capture unit of the power armor, trying to capture sounds far beyond the limit of his hearing at the moment, so as to find a direction to move forward.

At the same time, according to the information accidentally revealed by the remnants of the 11th Company of the Hessman Guards, he temporarily set his position not far east of the Terra Himalayan Plateau.

Terra on the map was still prosperous. This holographic map drawn during the Great Crusade had many famous buildings, such as the Terra Palace, the Hesman Hive of the Guards, and the Bridge of Glory and Sacrifice.

However, looking around, he did not see the palace, the hive, or any bridge. This meant that he might be on the ground or at the bottom of the hive, but he could not tell his current altitude, and the level had long since failed.

What Serafax saw was actually just a scorched earth.

Admittedly, he was not unfamiliar with scorched earth. Many alien homes had been turned into scorched earth and graves under the artillery fire of the First Legion, but he had never thought that Terra would become like this. He was not a Terran, but this had nothing to do with his pride in Terra. It had long become a symbol, the home planet of mankind, the birthplace of language, ethnicity, and the future.

When people talk about the throne world, they always use a special tone involuntarily, even those who have betrayed will involuntarily lower their voices.

Go back to Terra, everyone says this.

The pilgrims spoke devoutly, the soldiers spoke without hope but secretly in their hearts, the thieves, robbers and wanderers spoke only in dreams, not in public. Few people have been there, and those who have not been there are full of yearning - and now, Serafax has become one of those few.

However, he has no pride at all.

This must be changed. He thought sadly and resolutely. Terra cannot be like this, it should not have fallen to this point. Why is our home planet broken? There are so many damned things in this galaxy, why did we have to encounter such a thing?

He clenched his fists and walked east. If there is still a need for "support" there, maybe he will find new survivors.

——

Khalil Rohals closed his eyes and grasped a spear. The artifact trembled for a moment like a living thing because of his touch, but soon calmed down. Then, a soul sleeping inside was quickly awakened.

"Russ." Khalil called softly. "I need your help with something."

He opened his eyes and saw the Fenris man standing not far away with his hands folded, his face full of seriousness. He looked up and down at Khalil, who was covered in blood, shook his head and asked, "What is so urgent?"

There was a metaphor in his words, and if you look closely, you can even call it "ridicule", but Khalil accepted it with a smile.

He smiled and replied, "Leon is dying."

"."

As expected, the Fenris man was silent for a full ten seconds, with an uncertain expression on his face. And Khalil did not urge him, but just lowered his head and used a very bulky communicator to communicate with the Dark Angels who took over from him to the ground in Kamas.

The artillery fire on the other end of the call was deafening, and the noise was incomparable. Normally, this communication after multiple transfers would have a delay of about half a minute, but it was different at this moment. Some instruments on the Lion warship made the distance between the surface and space a matter of no concern at all.

"We will end this war within half a day." The leader of the Dark Angels promised, his voice as hard as iron. "No traitor can leave Kamas alive."

"I don't doubt it, Chapter Master, but I'm afraid I have to leave for a while."

"What? Now?"

"Yes - and I'm going to take the spear in the Leon arsenal."

There was silence on the other end of the communication for a while, and Russ looked up, his expression still serious.

".I understand." Raphael said slowly. "But I want to confirm one thing, does Lord Russ agree with this?"

Khalil looked up at the Fenris man and found that he was grinning, and his previous seriousness was gone.

"He still remembers me." Russ blinked at him, and suddenly became playful again. "By the way, can I have a few words with him, Khalil?"

Khalil didn't say anything, just clenched the Spear of Dionysus and closed his eyes. The next moment, Raphael on the other end of the communication heard a voice with an emphasis, like an echo.

"I agree, Raphael. By the way, where did you put the barrels of mead I taught you to make last time?"

".Sir?" The Chapter Master asked back in confusion.

"Where did you put it? I have to drink. I haven't drank for a long time." 'Khalil' smacked his lips and said to himself, but there was no smile in his ice-blue eyes. "How about you give me a thorough examination and I promise not to drink it all for you?"

Raphael took a deep breath, and then reported a bunch of secret keys and a very secret location. Russ smiled slightly, said goodbye to him, and even turned off the communicator, then turned and walked out of the arsenal door.

The noisy corridor in the past is now extremely quiet. Most of the servants have been arranged to the artillery deck or the supply warehouse to perform logistics work. Only a few automatic servants remain here to guard.

They turned a blind eye to Russ and even let him run wildly through the corridors.

However, just two minutes later, Russ arrived not far from his destination through a secret path reserved when the Blade of Reason was built. This was an abandoned repair workshop, located between the cabins of the ship. Among them, several inconspicuous black wooden wine barrels were placed in the deepest part of the dusty tools.

They're so dark they don't even look like wood. Ruth stepped forward, waved his fingers, and let a gust of breeze sweep away the tools and dust, while not forgetting to sigh.

"Psychics are useful, aren't they, Khalil?"

"I hold the opposite opinion."

Ruth chuckled, stepped forward, and pulled out two wine barrels with both hands. There was a sound of liquid shaking inside, and it was obvious that they were filled to the brim.

According to his past temperament, the next step was probably to drink freely, but he did not do this. Instead, he just reached out and took off the thick wine barrel lid, and began to tear them apart expressionlessly amidst the pungent smell of mead.

After a while, the wet wood, filter cloth and steel rings used for clamping were scattered on the ground, leaving only two small golden stones in Ruth's palm.

He blinked and his eyes turned completely black again.

"What is this?" Khalil asked softly.

The Fenrisian who floated out from under his feet shook his head, leaned against the barrel, took a deep breath, and then answered.

"A little preparation. The old man was still thinking about me after he took the seat. One year, he took the time to ask Constantine to come to Fenris and give us these two stones. He said that they were the spears of Dionysus that were originally forged. If the spear is damaged unexpectedly one day, these two stones can be used as replacement materials. Of course, the things he gave will definitely have more than this purpose."

Ruth's eyes sparkled, he looked at Khalil, and said: "Leon needs help, but you can't really go, can you?"

"I can go."

"It's just that you have to pay a lot of price." Ruth added calmly and shook his head again. "Please, do you think we haven't communicated with each other about you?"

He left the barrel and came to Khalil. Although he is much taller than him now, his posture actually looks humble.

"Listen, Khalil," the Fenrisian whispered. "You have finally become a human again. Please stop interfering in some things. Let me do it. How about it? I have long wanted to kick that old lion's ass hard."

"What do you want to do?" Khalil raised his head and asked calmly.

Ruth finally smiled sincerely, but after the smile, his face was filled with sadness.

"Ten thousand years - a hundred centuries, and my brother hasn't let this damn spear leave his side since I died. This is the first time, and it just so happens that he Almost dead."

He suddenly stopped talking and smiled again.

"Do you think this matter is worth talking about? Haha, but for ten thousand years, Khalil, he has been running back and forth between Fenris and the Obscure Star Realm, and he has possessed me once every century - Can you understand?"

He knelt down and sighed.

"I can feel that he is dying." Leman Russ said in an extremely low voice, his face twitching, and a shadow of rage passed through his eyes. "I can also feel that he is tired and he wants to rest, but he doesn't allow himself to stop."

"These subtle things are like the ringing in my ears when I'm about to fall asleep. I tried my best to catch them, and now, you're here, and you said you should bring the Spear of Dionysus."

"So, you know where he is, right, Khalil?"

What else could Khalil say? All he could do was nod in acknowledgement.

"Then, let me go." Leman Russ said. "Let me help him, just once. He needs weapons, armor, food - maybe even a drink. So let me go, Khalil."

Khalil looked into those ice blue eyes.

When he was the King of Fenris, these eyes were cunning most of the time. When he was the Wolf King, these eyes were always majestic. But now, these eyes were calm, filled with pure willpower.

I'm going to save my brother. In this way, Leman Russ told him quietly. Please let me go.

All right.

Khalil raised his left hand in silence, holding the two stones tightly, and they began to deform in his palm.

The process is silent, as if they were not minerals. Glittering powder quietly fell from between his fingers. After a few seconds, he opened his palms and the stones had merged into one. It twisted and looked like a golden lightning bolt.

Ruth let out a sigh of relief.

"Listen, Russ. I can send you there because Luther did something. But whether you can come back or not does not depend on me or any kind of power. You can only find your way back."

The Fenrisian grinned and sniffed deliberately.

Khalil glanced at him, suddenly smiled too, and stretched out his left hand: "These two barrels of wine can just be kept and wait for you to drink them when you come back. How about this, Russ?"

"Open it all!" The Fenrisian grabbed his hand and shouted loudly. "We have to have a celebration banquet when we come back, and this little wine is not enough!"

Boom--!

A thunderous sound flashed through the Edge of Reason, and not many people heard it. Even if they heard it, they just regarded it as a strange sound of the engine or some machinery.

Living on the ship for so many years, what sounds have they not heard? The servants continued to work hard, and gunfire flew outside the portholes. The last bit of the battleship power of the Ten Thousand Eyes was being eaten away.

Khalil let go of his hand and let the Spear of Dionysus lean against the wall. It no longer had the golden luster, and the surface was even covered with cracks. He turned and walked out of the cabin that had been unattended for a long time, and came to a porthole to look at the vacuum outside.

A few minutes later, accompanied by a burst of dazzling fire, a shadow suddenly appeared under his feet.

A voice sounded quietly: "You are very leisurely, old man?"

Khalil lowered his head, smiled at him, and said casually: "If you look back now, you might still see Russ who is shouting."

".What? What do you mean?"

"I mean, he just set out to rescue Leon." Khalil shrugged. "Didn't you notice this?"

"You old thing!" The voice in the shadow roared angrily. "Why didn't you let me go?! What can that stupid wolf do?!"

"He will correct his mistakes, Conrad"

Khalil raised his head, his eyes were unusually gentle: "I think he will succeed this time."