40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 375 104. The Burning of Five Hundred Worlds (5, [-]k)

Vomiting blood, Lucretius Corvo fell to the ground. This fall caused his weapon to fall out of his hands unforgivably. Anger came from the bottom of his heart, but more of it was shame - he inevitably felt shame because this had never happened before.

He had been through so many wars that he had never once lost his weapon.

But he had no time to continue feeling sorry for himself. Gritting his teeth, Lucretius began to crawl, trying to get closer to his sword.

This was not the first time he had faced such a desperate situation. Underman had been besieged by the Word Bearers for seven days. During this period, Lucretius had seen everything.

The first was their vaunted orbital weapons platform, which was forced offline after destroying eleven enemy ships. The Word Bearers laughed heartily as loyal Servos were executed one by one with their brains burned out in a global broadcast.

Then the star port suffered, it had no ability to resist. The Word Bearers used artillery fire and countless landing craft to dismember it, and everyone inside. After that, they began to attack the ground of Andemang, and the darkness came immediately and couldn't wait.

During the Great Crusade, Lucretius almost always stayed on the front lines. He witnessed more than once such a light of human reason that was unique to the Great Crusade.

Under the banner of the Empire, worlds full of darkness and ignorance broke free from the shackles of religion and ignorance and were united again. Through Imperial Truth, they were reborn.

But it was different now. The sun was obscured by dark clouds, rancid acid rain began to fall from the sky, and black fog rolled in from the far end of the horizon. It was obvious that the Word Bearers did not visit Andemang alone, they also brought other things.

Something that is enough to make one lose all sanity.

Crawling, Lucretius finally grabbed his power sword. This sword was a reward he received after a war in his third year in the army. It came from the private collection of his commander at the time. It's definitely not a master craftsman, but a power sword just needs to be handy.

Lucretius stood up quickly. There was no trace of previous injuries. The sword blade vibrated and the decomposition field buzzed. He rotated his hands so that the sword blade lay horizontally in front of him, and his breathing became calmer.

Two Word Bearers rushed toward him from the darkness, one without a helmet, and his blood-stained face looked extremely young. He has not undergone any rigorous training, and this can be seen at a glance.

Unlike Lucretius, he is a product of nurture, a new creation bearing the name of the Word Bearers. He had the body and strength of an Astartes, but he had no fighting will and skill, and even cruelty was not enough.

Most of his companions are like this too. The veteran among the Word Bearers has long become a different look, easy to distinguish. This matter has even become common knowledge among the loyal forces on the Undermount.

Facing the attack, Lucretius coldly handed out his sword, and a silver light swept across it. One of his enemies actually let out a cry of pain and took a few steps back. Blood rolled down from the gap in the breastplate. .

Without giving him any time to breathe, the Ultramarine kicked him away with a fierce kick, leaving his hands free to deal with the idiot without a helmet.

The latter obviously didn't realize how dangerous this thing was. He was just excited that he might kill an Ultramarines Captain with his own hands. He raised the chain sword in his hand with a roar and opened the door wide. There is no defensive intention at all.

Lucretius calmly rotated his wrist and swung his sword again. With just one simple swing, the chainsword broke into two pieces. Metal screamed, saw teeth flew, and the excitement on the Word Bearer's face froze into a shadow of fear.

He raised his sword and made a beheading gesture, causing the man to start to retreat, and the tactical purpose was easily achieved. He immediately put down his hand, accurately handed out the sword blade, pierced the enemy's chest, and rotated it in a circle to ensure that he no longer had the strength to resist, and then uttered his taunt.

"Never use chainsaws or power weapons head-on. Didn't your superiors teach you that, bastard?"

Lucretius drew his sword and strode forward. The frightened corpse fell heavily to the ground, and the remaining man was about to get up at this moment. Naturally, what greeted him would not be a good thing.

Lucretius simply beheaded him. His head rolled to the ground, and he finally let himself breathe.

Leaning against the dark rock wall, he vomited out a mouthful of blood again, and the helmet was filled with fishy smell.

There was a wave of pain in his abdomen. Not long ago, two explosive shells penetrated the protection of the power armor. With experience, he could tell without even looking that what was happening there was nothing more than a bloody mess.

But that doesn't matter, it will take some time for the remaining Word Bearers to find him.

Lucretius forced himself to stand up. Shouts and sharp explosions came from the depths of the cave. He expelled them from his own world and began to move forward, leaving behind a winding crimson road.

After making several turns, he jumped off a platform and entered a shimmering cavern. There are cables and instruments everywhere, and only two people are busy here. Behind the cave is a deep darkness with a gentle breeze blowing out of it.

The moment Lucretius arrived, they noticed movement. One of them immediately raised his gun and took aim, while the other took out some kind of shining round object from his red robe, which was ticking.

"How's it going?" Lucretius asked, not even asking them to put down their guns or their dangerous arc grenades. The person holding the gun immediately recognized who he was, immediately put down the gun, jumped over the cables and instruments, stood at attention in front of Lucretius and saluted.

Lucretius's question was answered by another person standing in the instrument. His voice was quite consistent with people's stereotype of the Mechanicus - that is, a stiff, rigid electronic synthesized voice with no emotional fluctuations.

"It's terrible." Technical Priest Osmiom commented mercilessly. "There's only so much ground power left, and almost no one responded to our broadcasts, Captain Corvo. And I seriously doubt that damn solar storm destroyed the Holy Titans we had too late to get underground."

"Think about it, at least you don't need to spend a lot of research time to maintain them in the future." Lucretius said, he wanted to try to make a joke to liven up the atmosphere - but this joke obviously failed very much.

A member of the Ultramar Auxiliary Army, Sergeant Hapane, standing in front of Lucretius, immediately told Lucretius his opinion of the joke with a sigh.

The priest turned his head, his electronic eyes flashed a few times, and the green light turned red for a moment.

After that, he slowly spoke.

"Maintaining the God's Machines is a privilege that only a few talents deserve. What better way to embody the power of the God of Machines than the Titans? Captain Corvo, your level of joking is almost as good as your level of human sophistication. Just as bad.”

Lucretius shook his head, ignoring the taunt. He asked again: "So, at least we're doing well underground?"

"That's true." Osmiom nodded. "The shameful traitors are being slaughtered by our troops, but I doubt that the three of us will live to see them. I say, Captain Corvo, we should not be here at all now. This place has been occupied. The speaker takes possession.”

"This is the outpost of the Andemang underground cave system, and it is also one of the few communication relay stations that can contact the surface." Lucretius coughed twice. ".If we're not here, how are we going to contact the ground troops?"

"You make sense, but I still can't believe I actually agreed to your plan half an hour ago." The priest complained in his synthesized voice, and then walked out of the instrument.

He came to Lucretius, looked at him carefully, and came to a conclusion.

"If you don't get medical assistance, you may only have a few dozen minutes to live, Mr. Company Commander."

"I have medical bandages here, and some medical potions," Sergeant Harpane said, unhooking a medical bag stuck on his belt. "Perhaps this will prolong your death, Captain Lucretius."

"It's no use, those two bullets are still in my body." Lucretius said calmly, raised his hand, and slowly took off his helmet. Blood immediately gushed out, steaming and flowing all over the floor.

Having done this, he put his helmet on again. The technical priest turned to look at the sergeant and asked a question.

"Sergeant Harpane, do you really think your auxiliary army's medical supplies can be effective on Captain Corvo?"

"At least give it a try." Hapane said as he opened the package and took out the bandages and medicine inside. "It can't get any worse until I plunge both hands into Captain Lucretius's wound."

The priest shook his head, and the complicated third hand behind his back swayed to the front. He reached out to take off a hand saw and handed it to Hapane.

"Use this to smooth out the edges of his power armor wounds, and then see if they work. If we're lucky, Captain Corvo's death may be delayed a little further."

"Thank you for informing me," said Lucretius. "This gives me great comfort." His voice had become very weak.

"You're welcome, I always like the precise beginning and end of everything, which is full of beauty." Osmiom replied, and shook his robot hand and walked to the door of the cave.

Two other arms protruded from under the bulging red robe. They were also made of steel, but they were not as bulky as the servo arms behind him. He held a phosphorus gun called a snake gun in his left hand, and three arc grenades in his right hand.

A few minutes later, there was a sound of footsteps above them. This meant that the Word Bearers had followed the path left by Lucretius, but Harpane's hands did not tremble at all.

Calmly, he leveled the hand saw and let the monomolecular blade cut away the last of the jagged ceramite that threatened to cut his arm. Then he grabbed the potion and began to inject Lucretius one by one.

Osmiom, who was at the entrance of the cave, raised the snake gun in his hand and firmly pulled the trigger. A burning ball burst out from the muzzle of the snake gun and hit the top of the dark cave in an instant.

The attack did no harm to the Word Bearers and even attracted their attention. A series of explosive bombs immediately poured towards the entrance of the cave, and Osmiom had already left the place.

To attract their attention was his purpose.

The technical priest calmly leaned against the rock wall and retracted his left hand under his robe. When he stretched it out again, the phosphorus gun was gone, replaced by a rough weapon whose model no one could identify.

Its four large and connected muzzles made the weapon look a bit absurd. After another tens of seconds, there was the sound of jumping and the sound of heavy objects falling to the ground above the cave.

At this moment, the priest threw the three arc grenades upwards without hesitation and pulled the trigger of the gun in his left hand.

He didn't even need to aim. Those bullets hit three arc grenades in the air along the already calculated trajectory, three to three, and the remaining bullet rotated and hit the only one that could lead here. Narrow platform.

Amidst the violent explosions and pulsating arcs of electricity, the priest's electronic synthesized voice sounded calmly.

"We need to retreat immediately, Sergeant."

"Understood," Hapane said. "However, Captain Lucretius's injury is very serious. He has not stopped bleeding. This is really abnormal. Moreover, how are we going to move him?"

"No need to worry about that." The priest popped out his servo arm and it clicked in the darkness. "My servo arm can even drag an entire block of adamantium if necessary. Captain Corvo's weight is nothing compared to a block of adamantine."

"Have you ever dragged an entire block of adamantine?"

"I have been working with Captain Lucretius for a long time, sergeant. He came back from Nostramo with half a shipload of fine gold."

The priest chuckled twice in his mechanical synthesized voice, walked up to them, stretched his servo arm forward, and got stuck on Lucretius's left shoulder armor.

"Let's go now. It's time to end this foolhardy but effective suicide plan. We have to gather our troops and focus on counterattacking the Word Bearers."

"Understood. But I have a bad feeling about this."

"What's the premonition, sergeant?"

"Their offensive is not as fierce as it was at the beginning." Harpane picked up his gun and lowered his goggles. The U-shaped mark on his helmet gleamed in the dark. "The more depraved, more blasphemous traitors are gone. Where do you think they are?"

"I don't know, but that's not my main concern right now," said the priest. "I'm more concerned about where the pharmacist is."

They walked into darkness, and the wind howled inside the cave.
-
  The Macrocannon's flash flashed through the main bridge porthole of the Macragge's Glory, and it hit a Word Bearer warship with unerring accuracy. In a silent explosion and deadly violence, it was caught in the middle by the Macrocannon. It became two pieces.

The stars flickered, and the surface of the sun belonging to the Andeman system shone with a dark death light. It was only at this moment that the other seven Word Bearers ships realized what had happened.

They tried to move away from Underman's orbit, but it was too late. Robert Guilliman calmly waved his right hand, and a torrent of plasma energy that could only be described as destruction passed through the dark vacuum and hit three of the ships again.

The color of the explosion was as pure as a gem, but Robert Guilliman had no admiration for the beauty in his heart.
  In fact, he didn't even feel the emptiness after revenge.

Because this is not revenge at all.

"Where is their main fleet?!" Marius Gage roared beside him, urging the crew to submit the radar work report to him more efficiently.

He himself was keeping a close eye on the detection servitors, trying to figure out the possible existence of the Word Bearers' fleet as soon as possible. Robert Guilliman knew in his heart that the Word Bearers were no longer here, at least not in large numbers.

He lowered his head and stared at the holographic projection star map, tapping his finger on it. For some reason, he felt calm in his heart, without any sadness or joy.

After another two minutes, all the Word Bearers battleships were destroyed, and a report was presented to him. With a cursory glance, Guilliman dropped it on the command platform and directed the Flare of Macragge closer to the orbit of Undermann.

Amid the rhythm of the machines and people's confusion, a weak broadcast signal from the surface was captured by Macragge's Glory.

"Play." Guilliman said, holding his sword with his left hand, his expression calm.

The crew did as they were told.

"This is Lucretius Corvo, the captain of the [-]th company of the Ultramarines. I speak on behalf of Underman. Due to the impact of the solar storm, all of us have gone underground. Anyone who heard the broadcast please look for it nearby."

Guilliman closed his eyes and did not listen to what was said next.

He took a few deep breaths and an inference quickly formed in his mind. Forged from a combination of extreme hatred and shame, watered by rage, and ultimately clothed in a thin veneer by his rationality - with his eyes closed, Roboute Guilliman issued an order.

"Inform the fleet, leaving five ships to assist the loyal forces of the Undermons. The other ships turned around and headed for Macragge. The Word Bearers' target was Macragge, always. What they did Everything is just a cover-up, a simple tactic used to buy time."

Marius Gage roared for him: "Go to Macragge!"

"There is no need to panic, Gage." Robert Guilliman opened his eyes and calmly advised his First Chapter Master. "They want to repeat the tragedy of Calth, but Macragge's situation is no longer the same as Calth."

"As long as they dare to enter Macragge's system, they will be discovered by the advance fleet. Even if they really have the ability to paralyze the orbital weapon platform and shield system again, we can arrive in time."

Gage looked at his primarch with an expression that spoke a thousand words. But in the end, he could only hold back a very simple rebuttal.

"But what if we don't make it in time, Primarch?"

Guilliman just smiled and did not answer. Gage was startled for a moment, then suddenly remembered something.

"Yes." The Lord of Macragge nodded to him. "They have no chance of winning."

　Chapter [-], there are ten thousand more.

　　
  　
  (End of this chapter)