The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Through the gaps in the trees, Beatrice, hidden in the shade, saw him. Dressed in simple cloth, he sat on the edge of a marble fountain. He had bronze skin and slightly curly black short hair, his face possessing a painterly handsomeness. Beneath thick eyebrows, his eyes were deep and watery, and upon closer inspection, one could see a ring of gold surrounding his pupils.

This was Akur'duna, the swordplay instructor of the Black Flame Rose Sisterhood's Dawn Sword Guard, the 'Sword King' under the command of the Holy Flame Lord. Despite being an Astartes, he possessed sword skills that were unpredictable and godlike.

Although he was called an instructor, he didn't appear very often. However, the training he set was nothing short of torture. From the moment they picked up a sword, he required the girls to perform ten thousand swings every day, a full ten thousand times. This was the reason for their nightly wails for almost half a year. Many people's wrists were almost wrecked in the first week, requiring injections to force them to continue training.

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But that wasn't all. After a while, he demanded that in addition to ten thousand swings, they also had to do ten thousand thrusts. Although they knew he was a holy Astartes, there must have been quite a few girls who wanted to stab him with a sword at that time.

But this was just wishful thinking, because they soon realized who was teaching them. After mechanically training swinging, thrusting, upward slashes, and a series of other movements, mortal swordsman instructors began to teach the girls basic swordsmanship. After a period of training, when they had mastered the basics, he appeared again.

This time, he had all the girls attack him with real swords, while he only had a wooden sword in his hand.

Perhaps to vent the anger from the previous hellish training, the girls, in groups of five hundred, attacked this guy with all their might. However, ten minutes later, only three hundred or so girls were still standing, and almost none of them had touched his sword with their weapons, let alone his body.

This was the result of him only knocking them down without using serious force. Some girls had already realized that if he wanted to kill them, it probably wouldn't take ten minutes.

Beatrice was one of those three hundred lucky ones. She barely managed to dodge his sword with her alertness, and then relied on the 'cover' of others to constantly dodge and 'survive'. But in the final elimination, he did not choose her, but rather some other girls who had not 'received' his sword. Only three hundred people could receive his true guidance.

That day was unforgettable for many members of the Black Flame Rose Sisterhood. Some received glory, some were filled with sadness, but more were deeply infatuated with the figure who strolled leisurely amidst the flashing swords.

After all, no matter how much religious dogma was instilled, they were still fourteen or fifteen-year-old girls just beginning to experience love. Even knowing that he was a superhuman warrior, they couldn't help but admire, and even develop affection for, such a handsome and charismatic strong man with outstanding temperament.

Beatrice felt that she might be a little different.

One day, he asked her why she used a sword. Beatrice thought a lot about it—duty, mission, faith, and so on—but in the end, she only answered three words:

"I don't know."

As a result, he just laughed. That smile often appeared in Beatrice's mind, and then he also said a sentence.

"Then I'll give you a goal: defeat your sword."

Beatrice immediately retorted.

"Instructor, have you defeated your sword?"

He pondered for a moment and replied:

"A draw."

Beatrice immediately seized the opportunity and said:

"If even you, Instructor, are so powerful and can't do it, then I definitely can't do it either. So, my goal is also to draw with my sword, okay?"

He just smiled and nodded.

Beatrice didn't know if he had only said such things to her, but that lost night after she had lost eight sword fighting matches in a row would be forever etched in her memory, because that was the only time she sat next to him, alone, talking to him, without anyone else disturbing them.

Akur'duna didn't teach anything particularly profound, but his understanding of close combat was absolutely extraordinary. With just a few pointers, the girls' swordsmanship improved rapidly, but this was clearly not his main job. Most of the time, he might only appear once every two or three months, or even half a year. Whenever Beatrice saw a flyer appearing above the training ground, she would silently pray in her heart that it was him.

From religious class, she knew that the Death Angels had to fight the most cruel and terrifying enemies among the stars. On such battlefields, even angels could fall, but she firmly believed that no enemy could defeat Akur'duna, and she also longed to fight alongside him on the battlefield one day.

Until the day they 'graduated,' she saw him in armor for the first time—a flawless swordsman with a commanding presence, like a sharp sword that could be drawn at any moment. It was the first time she directly felt what he often said was sword intent.

That cold feeling, even standing a hundred meters away, could make one feel the edge of the sword approaching their throat.

That was also the last time she saw him before today.

At this moment, Akur'duna was constantly throwing grains of wheat into the air, attracting the birds to fly around.

However, no bird could catch the grains in the air. It seemed that they were always just a hair's breadth away, and even bumped into each other.

Beatrice looked at the man, hesitating whether to go over now, but then the appearance of a person made her frown.

Teresa held her hands in front of her chest, cautiously walking in from the side garden entrance, like a timid deer, taking light steps to Akur'duna's side. That well-behaved appearance completely concealed that she was the imposing leader of the Sword Guard.

Then, she moved her hands to her abdomen, opened her mouth, and said something. Akur'duna stopped his movements and turned to look at her, preventing Beatrice from seeing his face, but the smile and slight blush on Teresa's face still made her heart twitch. Then, Akur'duna said something again, and Teresa suddenly covered her small mouth, showing a very surprised expression, but it soon turned into a kind of joy. Her body leaned forward slightly, as if asking if it was true.

After Akur'duna nodded, she smiled happily and clapped her hands gently. After saying two more sentences, she left happily.

Beatrice watched all this, her heart full of disappointment. She wanted to leave, but her feet seemed to be rooted to the ground.

"What's wrong? After so long, you're not even going to say hello to your instructor?"

Suddenly, Akur'duna's voice came from not far away, but he didn't look here, and continued to throw the grains into the air.

After hesitating for a moment, Beatrice dragged her feet into the garden. She looked at him, not knowing what to say.

But then Akur'duna stretched out his hand and beckoned.

"Draw your sword. Come."