40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 156 17. The First Battle (End)
When did things take a turn for the worse?
Yoel of [-]th Company, [-]th Legion had no answer, all he knew was that he had to get his sword out of the face of the damned alien in front of him - which he did, and then he slashed across, blood and a The broken head flew high.

He turned around and cut the two aliens who were trying to sneak up on him in two with a move he learned from Richtner of the Eighth Company.

The young battle-brothers clutched their chainswords in hatred, stepped over their corpses, and rushed towards another group of xenomorphs not far away.Spinning like a dancer, he slashed one xenomorph, grabbed another, crushed its head, and sawed a third in half from top to bottom.

The movement of the killing was not small, and the sound of the chainsaw sword was even more obvious.Some of the xenos soon realized that their foe was in the rear.

Yoel had expected this, he immediately shut down the movement of the chainsword, blowing past the shattered corpse like a shadow, and drifting in another direction.

His heart pounding, the surgeries and adrenaline gave him such strength that he ducked among the crumbling ruins before their bullets came.

And this is not the end, this is just the beginning.

Panting, Yoel turned sideways to observe the situation outside the ruins.They're still looking for him, which is good.

So he started calling, from the channel in the company to the public channel of the legion, calling over and over again.He looked forward to being answered.His brother, the officer, the company commander—anyone, even the Primarch and the instructor could hear his distraught voice.

He doesn't care anymore, he has to know the situation of other people.

"This is Yoel of the [-]th Company," he said, his voice soft, not just because he needed silence.

"Can anyone hear? Repeat, can anyone hear?"

There was rustling in the channel, and their communication was somewhat disturbed.Yoel ducked his head angrily, and began swinging the chainsword, letting the bits of meat stuck in it drop.

He repeated the call three more times. After almost giving up hope, he finally heard a reply on the public channel. Although it was a curse, it was better than nothing.

"Fuck," said the man in the channel hoarsely. "Joel of the [-]th Company, this is Sergeant Dion Livas of the [-]nd Company. Where are you? Where is your company?"

"I don't know, sir."

"You don't know what it means—wait, fuck—"

Dion Livas cursed continuously, and the next second, there was a continuous and rhythmic burst of shooting from his side.Half a minute later, Yoel heard his voice again while waiting anxiously.

"—Is the ground cracked?" the sergeant of the second company asked sullenly. "And then you all fell in?"

"Yes, sir."

"Damn bad luck, you bloody scum allied with aliens. Listen, Yoel, I've been separated from the company just like you, and there's something wrong with this damn communication system. I guess it must be Because they blew up the Temporary Communications Department."

"But you can communicate with me, sir."

"That's because the distance between the two of us must be not far away, so the server of the power armor can let us contact. Damn, don't you know this kind of thing?"

"I don't read much, sir, and I don't have a good relationship with the technical sergeants."

"It's fine not to read, the latter is quite unwise. Forget it, can your radar and tactical display still work?"

The young battle-brother glanced up at the readouts at the top of his eyepiece, half of them reduced to a garbled data slosh.

After a few seconds, he replied to the grumpy sergeant: "Only the tactical display works."

"That's not bad."

The sergeant replied lightly, his voice softened.This made Yoel realize something.

"I'll send you a coordinate, come over to me, don't die, Yoel."

"Understood, sir."

"No, you don't understand—I mean don't die, understand? It's best if you come here, or you can't. Anyway, let yourself live. Damn. God damn dog bastard Alien"

The sergeant cursed and hung up the communication, followed by a monotonous notification sound, indicating that the coordinates had arrived.

Yoel took a deep breath, he knew that all the following things would probably depend on himself.He bent down, watching the movements of his enemies under the cover of ruins and masonry.

The aliens, about two meters tall, communicated with each other using a strange grunt. As a kind of humanoid alien, their voices were disgusting.Yoel frowned, not just in disgust.

There are two choices before him now.

One is to kill them all before leaving, and the other is to take a detour and rush directly to join Sergeant Dion.

Without hesitation, he immediately chose the first option—when Joel got up from the buried ruins, what he saw were the corpses of his brothers.

He was originally acting with seven brothers, following the order of the company commander, they entered the power plant.Everything went well, they killed a lot of Harkosus, and then
Falling, falling, falling—painful, nearly fainting, his brothers growled, as hordes of aliens shot at them, their cursed weapons piercing power armor
Then, Yoel was alone.He didn't know if it was luck or misfortune, but, apart from these, he couldn't even collect the remains of his brothers, because these aliens who had been prepared for a long time had already surrounded them.

He can only be forced into the darkness, as the last survivor.

Now, he will not let go of this opportunity for revenge.

Yoel rushed out of the rubble, the dangerous hum of the chainsword reappearing, and the aliens fired in his direction.Yoel didn't regret his recklessness -- why should he?
Yoel felt nothing but pleasure as the monomolecular saw blade sliced ​​into the first foe's chest, shredding its hideous flesh and bones.He doesn't know what that means yet, but he will soon.

"For the Eighth Legion!"

With a low growl, he grabbed the lower body of the alien and let it rest on his shoulder armor to make a half shield.

His speed and a little luck saved him from the consequences of being hit by the dangerous weapons of these aliens. Three seconds later, he killed the sixth alien, rushed out of the encirclement again, and walked away.

But this time was different, he brought a strange shape into the darkness together, and the thing screamed horribly under his torment.

Yoel poked one of its eighteen eyes with a cold finger, and a sneer spread across his face—yes, that's it, fear, cry, you have only one choice: death.

The young battle-brother didn't know yet that the power and speed he was bursting out at this moment wasn't just the result of surgery and adrenaline.He will know, but not now.
-
Khalil stood calmly in the darkness, and the corridor behind him was as miserable as if it had been swept by a storm.The walls and ceiling made of metal were completely destroyed, the words disappeared, and the ground was covered with frost, which was surprisingly thick.

"Instructor, the situation is wrong." Anrik Barbatos said anxiously in the communication channel. "There's something wrong with this tower, this tower."

"Is it alive?" Khalil asked softly, he turned around, stared at the dust in the air, and there was a faint sigh from under the skull mask.

"what?"

"Is it alive, Enric?"

"No—I mean, its internal structure is changing, instructor." The voice of the Eighth Company Commander sounded extremely confused. "Is this some kind of trap? What floor are you on now?"

"Yes, it's part of a trap. I'm on the floor."

Khalil lowered his head and saw the eighth company soldiers fighting inside through the wall of the steeple.They're not fighting the Harkosus, or the xenos.In fact, they were fighting the spire itself.

It is alive.

It's confusing them.

"Soldiers of the Eighth Company, this is Khalil Rohars." He said in a brisk tone. "Going forward, no matter what happens, please remain calm and rational."

"Instructor?!" Enrique blurted out a call, and the feeling of uneasiness suddenly rose in the heart of the Eighth Company Commander. "What are you going to do again?!"

"Do my job."

Khalil hung up and declined all subsequent communication requests.

He sneered.

What a simple scheme, so simple as to be stupid - the solution to it couldn't be more obvious, isn't it?

The demon even took the initiative to speak out.

The ritual can be stopped simply by stopping the Eighth Legion from taking back Harkosus.

The spire itself was not fortified against him, and after the fog covering it was torn away by the monster behind the curtain, he saw it in its entirety.The minaret is indeed a medium.

In the past, it was worshiped by the Harkosus as the abode of the gods, and those aliens who were underground also knew about the tower, and they also worshiped it as the abode of the gods.

Which god do you worship?

God of Burning Fire - God of vengeance and hatred.

The first name is nothing more than a poor trick, it is vengeance and hatred in the Harkosus language, which no one speaks on Harkosus today, but it is ancient, because it It's not a natural language at all.

Words are powerful.

The older it is, the more powerful it is.

And now, as long as the spire is activated, it can fully function as a medium.

The number of offerings on Harkosus I wasn't enough to make him a god, but it was enough for the Veil to notice him again.

The last time he turned into a corpse and crossed the universe was a coincidence. Without the help of the Emperor, he should have completely returned to the back of the veil.

And this time, there was nothing the Emperor could do.No matter how tyrannical he appears to be, he is still human after all.

But
He is the master of authority.

Are the emotions of revenge and hatred only possessed by the Harkosus at this moment?He knew what was going on outside, the Spire reported to him.

He closed his eyes, and the steeple resignedly accepted his control.This frighteningly solid building began to shake, almost as if it was alive and began to wriggle—it broke through the ground, broke through layers of metal restraints, and slammed into a vast underground world.

+ Go kill. +
Khalil opened his eyes and spoke psychically to the soldiers of the Eighth Legion.

The first battle is over, and now is the beginning of a much longer war.

　Today, there is no pinching, my hands hurt, and I can’t write [-]
　　(thinking)
　　In addition, there are quite a few posts recently, are you all raising books?
　　
　
(End of this chapter)