40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 428 154. Terra (twenty-five)

There were no omens, no warnings, and no evidence that could be believed, but the wild bears of Fenris knew immediately—or rather, Bjorn of Fenris knew immediately.

He knew one thing, and what words could be used to describe it?

He drew out his fist blade in confusion, but the battle ax in his right hand remained unabated. The ax blade brutally chopped off a helmeted head, and the scarlet headless corpse immediately trembled and knelt down.

Blood spattered, and Bjorn staggered back two steps, having a shocking hallucination. He felt like he was standing on a piece of water, rather than standing in this dark ruins full of traitors and demons.

There is mist escaping all around, not the foul-smelling mist that comes from subspace, but the mist that belongs to early morning or dusk.

The fog of rebirth and ending.

He lowered his head and saw a piece of water, but he also saw his own face from the water, a face stained with blood and frowning.

Then a sharp pain hit him, not the kind of pain that would come from a muscle spasm or an organ suddenly going wrong. If I had to describe it, it was as if he was being pierced through the chest with lightning claws.

Why lightning claws?

Bjorn howled with tears, feeling an intense grief, as if he had witnessed his father's death - and that was indeed the case. He fell to his knees, his head hanging uncontrollably, his throat muttering continuously and shaking like an epilepsy.

In this torture, he suddenly saw four shining claws coming out of his chest, and then an idea came to him.

An idea that came from nowhere, but was very serious, very serious.

Leman Russ's thoughts.

And the voice of Leman Russ.

"I know my mistakes and I will correct them, but I can't correct them now. What are you going to do after I leave? Who will take my seat? Ah, don't let Gunnar come. That stubborn and honor-abiding bastard will probably lead Following you everywhere, hunting all over the galaxy."

"But I don't want this, don't do this, wolves will not mourn the dead. The purpose of the wolves is to protect each other and survive in the cold, so that the group can continue. So, who will come?"

"No, no, forget it, I can't control it anymore, you can decide for yourself. But -"

There was silence.

Bjorn slowly raised his head and saw Leman Russ.

"——Don't be sad." He lowered his head and said to Bjorn, calmly like another person. "Remember to tell my story, for I will return eventually. See you again in the winter."

There was snow in his eyes, the snow of Fenris. True to his word, Bjorn obeyed this order. He was not sad, angry, or even mourning. He just lowered his head and made an indistinct sound.

"See you in the winter!" He covered up all his emotions and shouted. "See you in the winter, Ruth! See you in the winter!"

The illusion quickly disappeared at a speed far beyond what ordinary people could understand. Bjorn shook his head silently, and suddenly rolled like an instinct, dodging a bunch of bullets that came towards him.

He managed to stand up, but the ground was still shaking - not their fault, but Bjorn's. He couldn't stand still. Extreme sadness and fear rushed from the other side of the darkness, biting his throat like a bloodthirsty wolf.

He could cover them up, but they couldn't go away. Sorry, Ruth, but I will correct my mistakes. Bjorn thought.

So, everything began to slowly disappear at this moment.

Memory, reason, thinking, and even his own name - in severe pain, he even lost his name. He roared at an incredible volume, his teeth clenched tightly, and the veins on his neck popped out.

Instinct began to drive this strong and brutal body, making it rush towards the direction of the gunfire. The fist blade was extended and cruelly cut open the chest of something. Blood covered his face and eyes, turning everything scarlet, and then there was more killing.

In the blood he heard Fenris' wolf howl, and he listened, and listened, and listened. It wasn't until the howl ended that Bjorn barely recovered his name.

At this time, he discovered that there were twelve corpses lying next to him.

In other words, thirteen, because one of them is not dead yet.

He was cut in half, and his too-young face was full of fear, as if he had seen something he couldn't understand. Bjorn exhaled a breath of blood-smelling air and suddenly realized there was something in his mouth.

He lowered his head and vomited blood, and even vomited out some teeth and pieces of meat that he didn't know where they came from. His teeth were intact, which meant he had just bitten something.

The wild wolf smiled. He walked towards the young man, but instead of killing him, he kicked his weapon away first. He then began to observe him carefully, even sniffing him several times.

Eventually, he came to the conclusion that the young man was not the Word Bearer.

The Word Bearers are a group of fanatical religious lunatics and a group of well-trained warriors who will never fall into fear so easily. In fact, they are so fanatical that they have no idea what fear is.

What's more, this man is too young, and he even has a smell that only belongs to mortals. Bjorn reached out, picked up a piece of internal organs as the other screamed, and looked at his bones.

He weighed the vertebrae with two fingers, then stretched out his hand to pull his lower body, and struck the scarlet armor with his fist. Having done this, Bjorn raised his axe.

"Get away! Monster! Get away!" cried the young man. "leave me alone."

"Defective product, shut up." Bjorn looked at him funny. "You can wear their armor and wear their crest, but you are not them. I want to kill some real Word Bearers. Do you understand, traitor?"

He swings an axe.

Blood splattered, he stood up and began sniffing the darkness, trying to find the scent of the wolves. Never has a pack member worried about being separated from the tribe—until now.

Bjorn realized with annoyance that he could only smell the stench of the Warp and that he could not trace his people. And it has been a long time since the Spirit of Vengeance began to descend, at least in the past.

Wait, how long has it been? Bjorn frowned.

"Time? Time?!" He growled again, looking even more anxious.

He couldn't keep his wits about him because he realized that time was causing chaos. The more important point is, where are the Sons of Horus? Where were those damn traitors?

We're on Terra, and they. They're too.

can not be like this. Bjorn told himself. So he bent down and started looking for what he needed.

He found a bolter engraved with the eight-pointed star and three full magazines. Bjorn used his fist blade to completely destroy the mark, and then walked into the darkness with his gun.

He was going on a solo hunt, which didn't matter because he was on Terra - there was no way he was going to do it alone.

However, fate seemed to be happy to play tricks on him.

Minutes or hours or years after he started walking, Bjorn stopped and saw a person struggling in the collapsed ruins.

It was a blind man with empty eyelids, and he was a rare blind Astartes - he was not wearing armor, but wearing a cloth robe, and he was trying his best to hold up his back to protect a book under him.

"Idiot!" Bjorn cursed angrily, walked over and pulled him out, but did not forget to take out the book as well.

The blind man stood unsteadily on his feet, gasped and was silent for a few seconds, and suddenly asked: "Wild Bear, is that you?"

"It's Bjorn."

"what?"

"It's Bjorn, the wild bear is Bjorn, you idiot nerd."

"No, you don't understand-" The blind man waved his arm and took the book from his hand. "——I swore to Lord Russ that I would protect this book."

"so?"

The blind man turned his head blankly in Bjorn's direction.

"So?" Bjorn repeated, looking impatient. "Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be on the ship?"

"Yes, it should be like this, but"

The blind man, or Azek Ahriman of the Thousand Sons, slowly frowned.

"Something, no, it's a demon. Demons from the warp attacked your ship. I heard the sounds of fighting everywhere. I wanted to join the fight, but a violent impact made me pass out."

He closed his mouth, looking a little ashamed. Bjorn looked down at the crippled Astartes. He was merciless at the time. He didn't regret it now, but he just felt more irritated.

"You can't fight," he said coldly. "You are already a useless person."

Azek Ahriman opened his mouth and raised his hand hesitantly, and a flash of lightning slowly bloomed from his fingertips. It had just taken shape, and in less than half a second, Bjorn kicked him to the ground, and the ax was already pressed against Ahriman's neck.

"I'll kill you right away if you dare to use it," Bjorn said. "Don't forget why your father died."

"I want to help!" Ahriman roared immediately. "I can help!"

"Come on," Bjorn scoffed. "Help? Have you forgotten what happened last time you helped? Your father's death and the destruction of your legion are inseparable from you. You-"

"What are you doing?" a voice asked. "Raise your hand."

Bjorn turned around suddenly and saw a tall warrior wearing blood-stained gold armor slowly approaching from behind him with a sword. But the person who spoke was not him, but another Astartes wearing broken purple and gold armor.

The lone wolf narrowed his eyes, twitched his nose a few times, and suddenly asked: "Thor Tarvitz? Thor Tarvitz of the Emperor's Children?"

"Exactly," the man said. "and who are you?"

Bjorn grinned.

"I've never fucking missed you proud bastards so much!" he laughed heartily. "I am Bjorn! Bjorn from the third company of the Wolf Pack!"

　There is one more chapter left.

　　

　

(End of this chapter)