40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 99 2. Friendly Exchange (3k)

Robert Guilliman could smell the scent of blood.

He walked cautiously through the darkness without saying a word, his iron boots rolling heavily on the ground. The sound of the building debris being crushed was so obvious, and he held his short sword with a posture that was almost incomprehensible.

The ruined fortress was full of corpses, and the blue emblems stayed stubbornly on the power armor. The murderer deliberately preserved every emblem, and all the corpses were killed with one blow, and there was no extra movement.

He observed these details, taking them in, and began to sigh silently.

If he had any ground manpower that could be mobilized - even just a transport vehicle, he would not walk into the fortress himself.

If he died, then he lost.

But he had no choice, he had to walk in here in person. The darkness spread across his retina, and nothing could stop them, just like nothing could stop Caryl Rohals.

His last team had 170 people. They entered the fortress that had been bombed and destroyed to the point of being completely destroyed. They were fully armed and then all died in just four minutes.

The communication channel was always terribly quiet. He could only hear short and rapid screams. Apart from that, there was nothing else.

A ghost. Guilliman couldn't help but let his thoughts spread in this direction for a moment. But he did not neglect to investigate the battlefield environment. He walked around a corner and the corpses on the ground stung his eyes.

Guilliman forced himself to ignore them and continued to move forward until he entered the deepest part of the darkness - a broken hall.

The doors and windows collapsed, and only three of the eight long pillars used to support the hall were left. The broken ceiling welcomed the baptism of moonlight, gentle but weird. A giant stood in the ruins with his back to him, with an elegant posture, as if he was just a resting bird of prey.

Guilliman tensed his muscles, and his armor began to emit a strange hum.

"One on one?"

His opponent, the monster in the dark - the giant who was unscathed in six hours of bombardment and killed three thousand Ultramarines, Khalil Rohals asked in a calm voice.

So Guilliman answered.

"One on one." He said in a low voice. "There is no other way to win."

"You still have air forces." Khalil said meaningfully. "Why not use those gunboats?"

"Because this is already an extremely unfair battle, one on three thousand, I can't let the scale tilt to my side."

Guilliman said, and smiled bitterly: "But I still don't understand how you did it."

"Fear." Khalil said, he turned around, his expression calm, his clothes covered with blood.

This weird contrast sent a chill down Guilliman's spine. He knew the other party's character, but he still inevitably felt a thorny feeling like a thorn in his back. This feeling deeply hurt him and made him frown.

"Fear?"

"Yes, fear."

"My legion will not fear."

"Are they human, Robert?" Khalil asked back. "If they are, then they will, the only difference is how much they can bear."

"You mean, you defeated my three thousand warriors with fear?"

"Yes." Khalil nodded gently, as calm as if he was really just stating a fact.

Guilliman shook his head, hiding his anger very well. He didn't want to say anything more. After all, he knew very well that his opponent would not lie.

"Are you ready?" Khalil asked briefly.

"Of course." Guilliman said.

The next second, the Arbiter in his left hand opened fire.

This highly modified bolter was no longer what it was at the beginning. The micro atomic compression warhead roared and tore through the air, rushing angrily towards the giant bathed in moonlight.

Guilliman was very accurate, there was no doubt about that. He fired three shots, one in the head, one in the left ribs, and one in the right chest. If he could hit, his opponent would lose all his fighting power.

But the bullets did not hit their targets. They smashed some collapsed building materials that used to be fortresses, that's all. As for his opponent.

Guilliman swung his right hand violently, and the dagger drew a beautiful arc in the air.

He was an excellent swordsman, otherwise he would not use this dagger as his melee weapon, but it was not enough compared to his enemy.

Sparks burst out between the blades, like burning flames, a pale face flashed, and the next second, Robert Guilliman lost his balance and fell to the ground.

What happened?

He couldn't understand, but his opponent did not pursue the victory, so he got up again, and slashed the blade towards the enemy's location captured by the retina before he fell - he did not cut in vain, but hit a solid palm.

Astonishment.

Did I not activate the decomposition stand?

"Hmm interesting." His opponent looked at his bleeding left hand thoughtfully and nodded. "Some details are still incomplete. If this is a real power sword, my hand should no longer exist."

"You"

Guilliman wanted to say something, but his opponent did not give him the chance. Khalil Rohars calmly grasped the Sword of Sincerity and snatched away the weapon that had accompanied Guilliman for many years.

His hands were bleeding, but Guilliman acted more like the wounded man.

"You can choose to surrender," Khalil whispered.

"no way!"

Guilliman roared and fired, not aiming, not expecting the Arbiter to hit Khalil, he just needed the bolters to be fired, that's all. As long as he can distract Khalil even a little bit, he will have a chance of victory.

A strange hum began to accompany the movement of his clenched left fist—the hand of dominion, his power glove.

surrender? He still has the strength to fight, and he will never surrender.

"Um."

Facing the coming stormy attack, his opponent just nodded thoughtfully.

Then, he disappeared into the darkness at a speed that was hard to catch. Guilliman's eyes widened, unable to understand how he did this, but he spotted a fleeting black shadow in the corner of his eye.

He raised his left fist and swung it in that direction - and then, a sharp pain came from his back.

"See you outside," said his rival.

Guilliman fell to the ground, feeling cold and familiar with his anger. He sighed and answered Khalil's words at the last moment of his death.

"See you outside," he said dejectedly.

——

There was a buzzing sound from the back of his head. Guilliman opened his eyes, almost stunned by the sudden light.

He sat up, suddenly feeling a drowning panic - he felt this way every time he used this machine.

He can only get used to it, not change. It wasn't until some time later that the dream weaved by the meditator gradually faded away. He sighed, took off the magnetic headband covering his head, and then saw a giant standing in front of him.

He smiled at Guilliman and handed him a glass of hot water. The original body of the Ultramarines subconsciously reached out and took it. The right temperature made the feeling of drowning subside more quickly, but he was not happy, only annoyed.

"Why do you wake up so quickly every time?" Guilliman asked in confusion. "This machine that can carry out simulated combat makes my limbs feel stiff every time after using it."

"I don't know either." Khalil Lohars replied softly, smiling slightly. "But I'm surprised you insist on letting the Ultramarines attack first."

"I know what you want to say." Guilliman shook his head. "Our score is ten to one. I only beat you once. If I use that method, I will keep winning, but what's the point in that?"

"and"

He narrowed his eyes. "I also really want to defeat you in a close combat."

"You won once."

"Rather than fighting alone, my legion creates opportunities for me. If you are not directly hit by a sniper from a distance, there is no way I can win."

Khalil smiled and said nothing. After a moment of silence, he made a suggestion.

"Your thinking is stuck in some kind of misunderstanding," he said. "You want a fair fight with me, so you reduce the number of your legions, limit your air power, and even reduce the number of bombings every time."

"It's true that this is just a simulated battle, but you don't need to pursue any glory or fairness in it. Inside, I am your enemy, and you should try your best to win. In fact, if I were You, I will turn the fortress into a sea of ​​fire."

Pursing his lips, Guilliman nodded. He didn't want to admit that Khalil was right, and he didn't want to admit that he had wasted a lot of time these days pursuing glory and fairness in simulated battles. But he had to.

Because he knew Khalil was right.

"Why are you always right?" Guilliman complained, his attitude naturally showing a kind of familiarity - they had met almost every day for a month and a half since the voyage, so it was hard to imagine that they were not familiar with each other.

"I don't dare to say that." Khalil chuckled. "Even a machine cannot always be correct. Just like your Thinker, if I keep asking it what 1+1 is, it will collapse sooner or later."

Guilliman looked at the thing and shook his head slowly.

"Maybe." He stood up noncommittally. "The machine itself does have a useful life, but my Meditator is no antique."

He raised his head, drank the hot water in one gulp, and then called the instructor of the Eighth Legion to leave the room.

"It's almost six o'clock," Robert Guilliman said. "Instructor Khalil, we are going to have a regular meeting."

Khalil sighed slowly.

"Tell me, Robert, did this tradition of meeting to deal with paperwork within the Ultramarines Legion come about after I came?"

Guilliman didn't answer, he just opened the door and walked away at a very fast speed.

There is also a 2k chapter, so I cut it off early to release it because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to finish it.