40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 684 66. Belated Judgment (Twenty-Seven)

"We don't have much ammunition left. We can only give you three standard magazines at most." The Announcer Zefeng said softly.

"That's enough." Serafax said.

The radioactive dust rolled in, sweeping across their armor and sound source capture units with creepy screams. The two Astartes stopped talking at the same time and began to observe the direction of the sound. Of course, they were destined to see nothing.

After experiencing many Chaos invasions, nuclear bombs and endless bombings, the harsh environment of this war zone has reached an unprecedented level, almost as a man-made natural barrier.

Expect the combat goggles to help their eyes overcome such difficulties? This idea was so absurd that it seemed like a crude joke.

Zefeng turned back and made a serious suggestion: "Since you have made up your mind, I will not stop you. But we have not met anyone else for a long time, so I suggest that you go east."

"Before the entire plateau front was declared broken, that was where the most troops were gathered. The 4th, 5th and 12th Legions all deployed more than two large companies there to stop the demon tide."

Serafax silently kept this in mind and nodded.

The words had been said. Zefeng of the 9th Legion actually did not agree with his behavior of setting off on foot to find the large force, but he did not dissuade him, but gave him all the support he could.

To be honest, the Dark Angel did not understand this, but he noticed another thing. He raised his hand, wiped the thick dust on the eyepiece, turned off the loudspeaker unit in the breathing grille, and asked a question in a very low voice.

"But you have no supplies."

"There are still eleven standard units of baseline ammunition in the ammunition depot of the Blazing Flame, which is more than enough for us."

Serafax shook his head, his voice becoming quieter: "No, I mean another thing, Zefon - you don't have any food or water at all. You may be able to hold on for a while, but these people..."

He looked down and saw the soldiers who were holding their positions on the Blazing Flame's magnificent body like a tall building. Most of them were motionless, as if they were dead.

A kind of anger mixed with grief surged into the Dark Angel's fictitious old heart, making him instinctively clench his fists and unable to speak any more.

Zefon saw all of this, but he just smiled. His laughter was clear and carried an extraordinary power.

But in the end, he just said: "Don't worry about us. Good luck, cousin. We will hold our ground and go on your mission."

Serafax chewed on his words and set off eastward. Due to the damage to the power armor, his speed was forced to slow down a lot.

Let’s not talk about the parts that would reduce the defense, the real problem is actually the disconnection between the servo motor and the artificial muscle bundle. Even in the past, the technical sergeants would directly replace the damaged muscle bundles to deal with this problem.

The reason is that manual repair is too troublesome. Disconnection will cause the muscle bundles to be stretched to the limit and then broken. Even if they can be "stitched" again, the strength will be greatly reduced.

Therefore, the few crew maintenance workers left on the Blazing Flame have no way to repair his power armor.

But what else can Serafax ask for? A high-level maintenance servitor? Or a mechanical priest?

To be honest, a hundred maintenance servitors are not too many on an Emperor-class Titan, but the Blazing Flame has been shot down. Its crew and captain had all died at that moment, and the remaining skitarii, servitors and priests relied on the churches and buildings on it to fight a positional battle with the surging demons and traitors.

Zefeng and his remaining soldiers actually arrived at the Titan after they all died. Like Serafax, they also came here by listening to the sound of knocking on the ground.

Strangely, although it was unmanned and the energy core was disabled, the Raging Flame was still executing this order.

No one knew who issued it. The data terminal used by the Firebee Legion had special encryption technology, which also made Zefeng and Serafax's idea of ​​checking the battle log come to nothing.

Is it a machine soul? The Dark Angel thought.

He lowered his head, hurriedly crossed a piece of volcanic rock formed the day after tomorrow, and jumped onto a piece of overturned and melted steel ruins. Thick ashes and corpses covered it, forcefully snatching every inch of space.

Serafax walked slowly with his sword in hand, and soon came to the conclusion that this was once the location of an armored unit. However, after the volcano erupted, they became what they are now.

Steel and steel were entangled together, and the soldiers inside were scalded alive by the magma, and the accompanying infantry simply became charcoal or ash

But where are the dormant active volcanoes on Terra?

Serafax looked up at the sky, and as always, the radioactive dust blocked all prying eyes. It treats all creatures in the Himalayas equally, extremely dangerous, but also extremely fair.

He continued to move forward, and unexpectedly, after passing this place, he actually saw a battlefield with smoke in front of him, and many flags were fluttering in the wind. They were not particularly complete or neat, but they were by no means broken, which meant that they were still protected by flag bearers or company members.

He immediately stopped, sheathed his sword, and finally even took off his helmet. Dust rushed towards his face, darkening his pale face. Ignoring the burning pain, Serafax spoke quickly, letting his voice echo in the seemingly deserted position.

"Is anyone here? I am Serafax from the First Legion. I have been ordered to come -"

"——Harlan Corson, War Dog, Captain of the Third Company." A voice interrupted him, but it didn't sound like a human voice. Instead, it had the stiffness of a machine.

Serafax looked around and saw many figures rising slowly from the mud, blood and dust. The two-color armor of the Warhounds, which should have been bright, now looked dull and scarred. The figure of the person making the sound was located in the center of them, looking particularly large.

Serafax looked closely, and it took almost a few seconds to realize that this was actually a set of MK3 power armor, but it had been repaired and scarred extremely thickly in many places, and even the Legion's logo could not be recognized. .

However, compared to the condition of the armor, the giant decapitation sword held by the war dog captain was still sharp and not stained with any blood.

"Put on your helmet, Dark Angel, or you'll soon be blind."

The war dog warned him in a mechanical tone, waved to him, and suddenly turned over and jumped down from his position. Serafax wiped his face and quickly did as he was told. He crossed the dead position and followed him into a deep trench.

It is about seven meters deep. It is obviously not a fortification dug by the auxiliary army. However, even if the garrison is mainly Astartes, is it necessary to dig it so deep?

Serafax suppressed the doubt in his heart and walked towards the war dog captain on the hard soil. The others returned to their posts without saying a word, and no one even glanced at them.

It was only then that he discovered where the latter's weird mechanical synthesized sound came from - most of Harlankosen's face had been perfectly replaced by bionic parts, as well as a small part of the flesh and blood in his throat.

There are usually two treatment options for this kind of injury. One is to rely on medicine, medical technology and the self-healing ability of the Astartes. The second is like him, directly using bionic parts to replace all the lost flesh and blood.

Fast, but hardly safe. The mechanical transplant surgery in the early days of the Great Crusade was limited by the modified physiological structure of the Astartes. Once rejection occurs, life-long adaptation is required. In severe cases, it may even lead to nerve atrophy.

"Are you alone?" War Dog asked.

Behind him was an empty and intricate bifurcated road. This huge trench seemed to far exceed the fortification standards of ordinary positions. Serafax even just took a cursory glance and saw four bunkers with closed doors. He couldn't see the firing holes, but he guessed that there were more than three heavy machine guns mounted there.

"Yes." Serafax nodded. "I came from the Fire Bee Legion's garrison position in the west. All the original crew members and Mechanicus forces have been sacrificed. In their place, Zefon, the Herald of the Blood Angels, and a group of auxiliary soldiers from different units were stationed there. "

Harlankosen glanced at him and didn't say much. He just gave a slight nod, then turned around and walked away, leading him deep into the trench.

A few minutes later, Serafax saw an entire infantry squad of the Auxiliary Army in a cave excavated the day after tomorrow. They were preparing here. Everyone was injured and disgraced, but the flag was wiped spotless and hung on the synthetic metal fixed beam of the cave, floating slowly.

Serafax looked up and read out the name: "Burning sand?"

He quickly remembered something related to it.

Burning Sand is an auxiliary force with outstanding achievements. Its members are all Nucerians. Among the first batch of veterans, there are even many slave gladiators who were at the same time as the Lord of War Dogs. They are famous for their extreme fighting enthusiasm and close combat ability. .

"Yes, Burning Sand." Harlancosen responded slowly, looking a little surprised. His one remaining eye didn't help him convey the emotion very well, so the glance seemed even more threatening.

Serafax followed him, and his tense nerves finally relaxed a little - he was getting closer to his goal, and no news could excite him more than this.

They kept walking, and the Burning Sand men barely even greeted the War Hounds' Captain.

They were concentrating on maintaining their weapons, and only a few of them saluted the terrifying-looking Harunkosen with eyes that did not look like they were looking at their superiors. The latter nodded in response, also appearing very restrained.

After walking out of the cave, what appeared in front of Serafax was a different scene. He saw many force field generators scattered in the mud walls, running automatic turrets and the ground covered with Send cable.

Wearing iron-colored armor, the silent Iron Warriors are scattered at various intersections, inspecting and evaluating these machines. Harlan Corson took him along and traced the origins of the cables bit by bit.

On the way, Serafax saw many portable generators, and the servitors in charge of them were working tirelessly next to them to generate electricity in a very primitive way - by foot or by hand.

Soon, they came to the end of the road, where a soldier of the Fourth Legion was working with his back to them, holding a data pad.

Serafax couldn't see the model of his power armor. It must have been designed by him alone - there should not be many people who can enjoy this honor. Serafax secretly guessed that this should be a war blacksmith.

However, when he turned around, Serafax saw a rough iron mask. It was probably made temporarily, and it didn't even fit his face well. Blood slowly flowed and spread along the edge of the mask.

"Who is this?" The Iron Warrior asked hoarsely.

Harlan Cosen walked up to him, explained a few words, and then turned and left, obviously going back to his post. The Iron Warrior approached him, put his hands together in front of his chest, and made a Sky Eagle salute.

"You said you were ordered to come, Brother Serafax, I know the secrecy of your First Legion, so I only ask one question, can you tell me?"

Serafax shook his head.

"Very good, what help do you need?"

Why did he believe me so easily? Serafax immediately realized this problem. At the same time, Zefeng's words also came to his mind, and the performance of the Herald and the Iron Warrior made him quickly draw a conclusion.

At this point in time, his legion has not officially entered Terra. Or it has entered, but has not joined other forces. Either way, it's a good thing for him.

Serafax took a deep breath and spoke slowly.

"I need power armor repair, ammunition supply, battlefield communications and a current situation map, the more detailed the better. In addition, about 82 kilometers west of here is the garrison of the Raging Flame. If possible, can you send support?"

"Other things are not a problem." The Iron Warrior said simply. "But I'm sorry that I can't do anything about communications and current situation maps. The power of Chaos is pervasive and has destroyed the most basic communication system."

"Okay, then please point me in the direction."

"Where to go?"

"The Palace." Serafax said.

The Iron Warrior was silent for about half a minute before answering seriously: "In theory, I shouldn't ask a Dark Angel acting alone what mission he is going to perform. But since you asked about the direction to the Palace."

He slowly moved his hand to the handle of the bolter on his waist, so slowly that Serafax could see it clearly.

"What do you want it for?" The Iron Warrior asked word by word.

Serafax was silent for a moment like him, raised his hand, took off his helmet, and uttered a sentence in his original voice.

"I want to bring a message to the Emperor."

"What news?" The Iron Warrior narrowed his eyes and asked slowly.

"A rebellion broke out on Caliban." Serafax said concisely. "Civil strife - Legion civil strife."

After he said this, he put on his helmet. No one knew the pain in his heart, but he felt even more ridiculous: using this shame as a scam to gain a tactical advantage?

Alas.

He sighed silently and clenched his fists. The Iron Warrior seemed to take his performance as another meaning, so the eyes deep behind the iron mask quickly changed from the initial astonishment to disbelief.

In the end, he himself sighed.

"Okay, I understand." The Iron Warrior said. "Wait here for a moment, I will contact the White Scars."