40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 468 189. Terra (forty-seven, load-bearing steel and solid stone as a wall. Saving Private Waldo)

Dantioch's lungs burned.

Nothing can save me, nothing can rescue me from this hell.

Once again, the realization dawned on him with crystal clear clarity, and he started running. According to the predetermined plan, if the first area is lost, then anyone who is still alive - or in other words, who still has a chance to be alive will have to do this.

Evacuate, that's all.

Evacuate to the rear of the line, go back, turn away from the corpses of your brothers, and start running amidst the ridicule of the traitors.

Turning your back to the enemy is a big no-no, but what if the enemy doesn't care that you're leaving?

They were not a disciplined army. In fact, Dantioch even began to wonder whether these beings pretending to be Word Bearers were even human beings under their skins.

He and a Word Bearer looked at each other. There was no emotion in the man's dead gray eyes, only a turbid and filthy fanaticism, as if he was born from this, rather than human flesh and blood.

The war blacksmith felt a chill in his heart for no reason at that moment. The war had already progressed to this point, but he could still learn something new from it.

A few hours ago, he had noticed their genetic father caressing a flower of steel. But now, he understood that the Word Bearers were no longer the legion he knew.

Even if they were traitors, they were still traitors with reason even when Robert Guilliman's five hundred worlds were burned. They kill with hatred, but what about these things now?

They have nothing and are nothing.

Dantioch stopped, leaned against a low mud wall, and turned around to take a look. He saw Captain Gonzo Fried of the Imperial Fists being dismembered. Two men held him down, opened his chest with daggers, and tried to cut off his head.

Captain Gonzofried was still trying to fight, his left hand still holding the bolter, but he had no chance to fire, he had lost that strength. His finger was on the trigger, but he couldn't pull it down and could only tremble.

The traitors laughed loudly at him.

It was all so terrible, and so unfortunate for the warrior. However, the god in charge of destiny seemed to be a bit benevolent. After all, he did not take away all the captain's luck.

In his last moments before his death, Gonzofrid saw Dantioch.

This incident was the only luck he could have, and it was also the War Blacksmith's greatest misfortune.

The captain nodded imperceptibly.

After nodding this time, his heart was slowly taken out by a pair of hands and held high. Someone praised the so-called Chaos Gods with a loud voice.

The warsmith retreated behind the mud wall and pressed somewhere on the vambrace, very hard. If not, it won't start.

After doing this, he immediately started walking again without any desire to stop.

He resisted the urge to fight back, and sounds that did not belong to war spread behind him, as if ten million monster arms were trying to drag him back, into the darkness.

War was the sound of gunshots and blades clashing, and the sound of artillery bombardment, not what it is now. There was laughter everywhere, savage roars, crazy screams, and the ubiquitous sounds of praise to the gods.

Dantioch used the power of his will to cut off the arms and then began to desert.

After running for eleven seconds, a bright and violent wave of flames slowly rose from behind him. The flames did not get past the defense of the power armor and hurt his back, so Dantioch did not feel its temperature, not at all. He still could only feel a chill.

Every nerve in his head was obviously trembling, but his thoughts were still as cold as ice.

He ran around the next corner and slapped, or hammered, his right gauntlet again.

The fuse, which could not be heard or seen, began to burn slowly, and after another eleven seconds, the explosion rose again. A distance of five hundred meters is nothing to an Astartes, but Dantioch spent nearly a minute slowly leaving.

Now, he stopped at the border of the first area and the second area, lowered his head and checked the weapons on his body. There was a dark shadow cast above his head, and the severed head of the deceased stared at him lifelessly.

The walls of Jingguan, shaped by the hands of the Iron Warriors and the Imperial Fists, continue to attract the attention of the enemy, and Konrad Curze is right, carving the Imperial Sky Eagle does work.

These walls were supposed to be fragile, open to destruction by traitors, but the Imperial Skyhawk changed everything. This meaningless symbol made them afraid, even shivering. They could only turn to find another way to enter the trenches and fight them to the death.

Perturabo and Rogal Dorn had already thought of this, so all those methods began to be eliminated, leaving only one, the last one that was deliberately reserved.

An exit, or an entrance.

only one.

Want to kill? come in. Come and fight us, beneath the gaze of the heads of your fallen comrades, beneath the shadow of the Imperial Aquila.

Dantioch raised his head and began to take a deep breath.

Does he remember them?

Gonzofried, Fasatorn, Tolaros, Ennerli Manock He kept saying it, and kept saying it, and when he saw Frix 'behind the wall' in the second area, he blurted it out Say a name.

"Gonzo Fried," the Warsmith said.

He was stunned for a moment, obviously. Frix held the war hammer and looked at him without making any comments, just waiting. It took several seconds for Dantioch to return to normal.

".The first area has been lost." War Blacksmith Report reported. "If nothing unexpected happens, I will be the last person alive."

"No accident, we saw the fire," Fricks said. "You lasted forty-two minutes in the five-hundred-meter trench, and that was enough. Get the ammunition, Dantioch."

"Understood." The Warsmith stood at attention and answered Frix using his old habit when he was not yet a member of the Trident.

The city breaker looked up at the towering flesh and blood city wall, and suddenly showed a slightly cruel smile.

He said: "Do you know? The dogs of Horus retreated directly after the first wave of defeat, shrank to a short distance and watched, leaving the battlefield to the cannon fodder they found. Their habits have not changed, but I wonder when they will remember they have artillery."

Fricks' smile gradually calmed down.

"Five hundred meters, Dantioch, five hundred meters. Let's see how many we can kill."

The war blacksmith nodded silently, turned and left.

An hour and fifty-one minutes later, he and Fafnir Lane of the Imperial Fists dragged Frix, who had lost an arm and had his abdomen punctured, back to the third area.

Behind them was a detachment of six people, nine people in total. They were the last remaining defenders of the second area. It was much better than the first district, but it was still an unacceptable number, at least not for Fafnir Lane.

Dantioch leaned against the mud wall in the third area and stared at him through the hole in his helmet. It took a while before the Imperial Fist made a second sound other than a low growl.

"We can't hold on," he said. "The third zone will also fall, there are too many of them."

"It doesn't matter," said Dantioch. "Where's your explosives?"

Lann raised his head and knocked on his chest.

"Remember to detonate it," he said concisely.

Dantioch said nothing, just knocked on his chest.

Seven minutes later, their enemies began to rush toward the third area from the second area, which was still burning. The five Imperial Fists on guard were the first to spot them, and they immediately began firing.

The trench is actually not narrow. The width of twelve meters is enough to accommodate an armored vehicle passing through. However, for the enemy, these twelve meters are not very gentle.

They began to fall, their heads smashed, their bodies penetrated and burned by flames. Blood and flesh splattered, and the defenders began to kill them in the simplest way. They only needed to pull the trigger and did not need to think about other things.

They had no ammunition reserves anymore, so they decided to completely destroy them. The scarlet corpses at the border of the second area and the third area began to pile up more and more, until they covered the entire ground and turned into another piled-up Jingguan.

More inferiors wearing scarlet armor climbed up from behind, stepping on the corpses of their companions, their faces covered in blood, chewing fresh meat from who knows where. They too were beaten to pieces, their flesh and blood flying everywhere, and then someone started throwing fragmentation grenades.

It is always the number one choice for lethality in narrow areas. Dantioch has read many books and he knows that this design already existed before Terra was unified.

It is a timeless and efficient method of killing, like the blade, hammer and spear.

And the axe.

Fafnir Lane chopped one Word Bearer to pieces with his axe, another slashed at him with a chainsword, and Dantioch slew him with a swing of his hammer. They looked after each other and fought back to back in the trenches that were muddy with blood.

Everything slowed down, and the air was filled with the unpleasant smell of burned corpses, just like the situation they were experiencing now.

The ammunition was out, the grenades were thrown away, and the prepared spike traps and booby traps around the corners also killed some Word Bearers, but this still could not stop them from stepping on the corpses and continuing to rush over.

Then everything will fall into place.

The Iron Warriors and the Imperial Fists do this tacitly, looking out for each other. Iron gray and bright yellow flashed alternately in the blood-covered trenches, and corpses were soon crowded everywhere.

The warsmith Dantioch felt that his friend Fafnir Lane had lost the function of speech, and all he could do was growl or groan after being injured.

He was slightly entranced by this idea, he thought, is Fafnir Lane really my friend? Although we fought side by side in District 2, he and I had just gotten to know each other.

He paid the price for this dazedness in less than a second, and a spear pierced his side. Lann saved him with a swing of his ax and pulled him up, thus making a third sound.

"Take it easy, idiot!" he cursed. "Remember to detonate!"

Dantioch smiled behind his helmet.

"Comrade." He spat out the word vaguely and swallowed a mouthful of blood. "I refuse to accept it."

"What did you say?"

"I don't want to be the one who pushes the detonation button anymore," Dantioch said clearly. "I've already pressed it twice, let's switch to someone else to press it for the third time. I also have a supply of explosives. Your Imperial Fist is never short of engineering explosives, is it?"

Fafnir Lane stepped over the corpses of the two Word Bearers and stared at him, then began to smile.

"Yes, madman," he said. "OK."

Someone screamed and rushed toward them.
-

Melos stretched out his hand and wanted to pull Orperson up from the ground, but the veteran refused. He lay on the ground and slapped the druggist's hand away with the butt of his gun.

Of course, Melos could see that he was tired. As a mortal, Orperson had followed him and Alastor Rorschach closely in the past few hours. Sometimes he would walk A little slower, but he never fell behind.

He was very tired, and it could be seen from his trembling legs that he was at the end of his strength. Melos knew all the above, but he still reached out his hand again.

Orpeson did not refuse this time. He stood up slowly, his whole face twitching faintly.

Without words, they continued walking. The 'crow' walks at the front, leading the way.

He said he had some knack for identifying footprints and could help them get back to where they came from. Apart from that, he said nothing, and never mentioned how he came back to life from the beginning to the end - yes, Melos still believed that he had returned from death.

His diagnosis at the time could not have been wrong, nor could the medical gauntlet. Even though the Crow Guard was dead, the suspended meninges had failed to work. However, one thing is noteworthy, his calmness.

He didn't seem surprised by the incident.

Melos wanted to know what he saw.

They began to move forward wordlessly and silently, in the direction of the Raven Guard's large army - the direction of hell and death.

This request was made by Orr Persson. He stubbornly believed that he had to go back. He wanted to find Marshal Constantin Waldo of the Forbidden Army. To be more precise, Orr Persson's original words at the time were actually : "I'm going to save him."

Melos felt a little ridiculous at the beginning. A mortal said that he wanted to save a forbidden soldier? But Orr's expression made him realize that the veteran was completely serious.

He tried to convince the veteran, which was impossible, but in the end, it was he who was convinced by Orr Persson.

"You don't understand, Blood Angel." The veteran looked up at him and said, his right hand tightly placed on his chest, as if holding something, but there was nothing in his hand. "The focus of this matter is not whether it is possible, but whether we have done it."

Melos felt that he should have glared at him at that time, while Rorschach remained silent, but Orr Persson continued.

"The universe will expand. Have you heard of this interesting and ancient theory? It will expand, then collapse, return to the beginning, and return to its most original shape. When this cycle passes, it will expand again , collapse.”

"The cycle starts over and over, and when it expands again, everything will happen again, so no matter what mistake you make, it will never get a chance to be corrected. And I can't make a mistake, Melos. I can't bet on Constantine "Waldo's death has no impact on what I will do in the future. I can only do the right thing." But how do you know which thing is right and which is wrong? Melos asked.

Orpeson didn't answer, just smiled dryly.

So now, they walked together, walking in the mist that seemed to escape in the early morning, close to each other, like savages in the savage era.

Human beings who did not travel in groups posed no threat in that era. One person could not make a difference, but two people could hunt wild beasts, and three people could make wolves give up the idea of ​​hunting. And if there are more than ten people, no matter how powerful the beast is, it has to consider whether it can withstand the minions of these two-legged hairless naked apes that can fly in the air.

There was no sound coming from all directions, only silence, as if the person they were looking for was completely dead.

Melos felt a little uneasy, and this feeling made him tighten his grip on the sword. Coincidentally, their 'crows' also tightened their muscles, showing an ambiguous state of being far away from the ground while walking, ready to deal with any possible attack at any time.

The absurd thing is that Orr Persson is content with this.

Only he knows the reason.

They walked and walked until they were exhausted. Inevitably, the Blood Angels became a little suspicious of what they were doing, so he asked, "Are you sure we're not going the wrong way, Rorschach?"

Crow turned back and shook her head at him.

"But where did they go?" Melos asked. "us."

As he was speaking, he suddenly stopped speaking. He squatted down and began to dig into the completely frozen soil with the captured power sword. After a while, he unearthed a helmet.

That was the Crow Guard's favorite style. The gloomy scarlet eyepieces were still stained with mud, as if they had self-awareness and were staring at them all. Melos shook off the dirt on it and handed it to Rorschach.

The latter checked it and put it on directly. It fit tightly on his armor, as if it belonged to him.

"We didn't go the wrong way." Crow said in a gloomy tone that was changed by the breathing grille. "This is the best proof."

"But where are they?" Melos asked sincerely. "I didn't hear anything -"

His words were interrupted by a noisy, sudden sound, carried by the cold breeze and rushed into their ears.

As expected, Orpeson loosened his grip on the gemstone on his chest, its temperature already burning his palms. The fog suddenly dissipated the moment after the sound was heard, and things around them began to change rapidly, and monsters from the deepest depths of hell appeared in front of them.

In the sky, on the ground, even in the air - they are crowded in every corner, everywhere.

The pharmacist instinctively clenched his sword, firmly protecting Orr behind him. This was an instinct. Of course, he didn't know what the mission of Orpeson was, but he could hear a voice from the deepest part of his heart.

The crow didn't do this, he just aroused the lightning on his claws, and the decomposition force field buzzed endlessly. This could be considered a declaration of war, but the demons still turned a blind eye to him, as if they didn't exist. They head straight in the other direction.

Melos looked intently and saw the Raven Guard and their primarch Corvus Corax leaping out of the darkness. It was a spectacle that few people could directly witness, and he was greatly inspired by it.

The pharmacist raised his sword with one hand and slashed at a demon with a hunched body and ferocious claws to declare his participation in the battle. The blade sliced ​​across its head with pinpoint accuracy, a fatal blow—if it could hit.

Melos was stunned.

Unbelieving, he swung his sword again before it left. This sword still missed, and quietly passed through the thing's back.

The Blood Angel suddenly roared, turned around and aimed at another naked goat-headed monster, raised his sword and stabbed it. It came out of its chest, but the thing didn't even look at Melos, and ran straight past, even Passing through the Blood Angel's body, it looked like an illusory shadow.

"In the name of the Emperor, what is going on?!" the pharmacist growled. "We must join the fight!"

Rorschach shook his head gently.

"It doesn't make sense," he said. "Don't waste your hard-earned life here. This is not a battlefield that can be changed by just three people joining in, Blood Angel."

Crow looked down at Orpeson.

"Can you find him?" he asked.

"It's okay now," the soldier replied firmly. "I can already sense where he is."

"Then, take him away." Crow said in a cold tone. "The Emperor has another use for him."

A golden light flashed in his scarlet eyepiece, making Melos speechless.

The crow raised its head, nodded to him, and then immediately disappeared into the darkness in front of them.

The densely packed demons all around stopped moving at this moment, and tens of thousands of pairs - no, millions of pairs of cloudy eyes all turned around, staring at a Raven Guard who suddenly appeared in their sight.

Alastor Rorschach coldly raised his claws and declared war on them. With one against ten thousand, could he win? Melos had no answer, but saw that he was drowned.

Orpeson turned around and walked in the other direction. Melos didn't even notice his departure at first. It wasn't until a breeze blew that he realized what he should do most now.

He quickly caught up with Orr Persson and asked: "What is going on, Orr?"

"I don't know," said the soldier. "Don't expect me to explain this kind of thing to you clearly. I'm confused myself, and I really, really, really hate things like occultism."

"But."

"There's nothing better to do, Melos, it's already that time." The soldier raised his head and said. He loosened his right hand that was tightly clenched in front of his chest and pointed forward. "Here we are."

What he said was true. Following his guidance, Melos saw a dim golden figure. However, even with Astartes' eyesight, it took Melos a while to figure out that it was actually a forbidden soldier.

Their iconic golden armor has been completely stained by blood, which is why it looks dim, but this does not prevent him from fighting.

Just by wielding the spear with one hand, he can still stand firm in the demonic tide. The light bursting from the golden spear makes those blasphemous inanimate people fearful. As long as it is illuminated, they will immediately scream. Some weak ones It will even burn it directly to ashes.

The blasphemous flesh hissed endlessly in the light, grease and pus and blood gushed out from under the fur, and their screams were so beautiful. The results were impressive, but Constantin Waldo still had a very difficult time fighting.

The reason is that there are too many of them, and he will never be able to fight with all his strength.

Orr and Melos could clearly see that at the back end of the demonic tide, some huge demons were watching the battle. They could obviously choose to join the battle directly, but they still had to sit back and watch.

The young pharmacist immediately understood what they were doing. A chill ran down his spine and he was so angry that he lowered his head in confusion and asked about the mortal.

"What should we do?" he asked, unaware that he had regarded Orpeson as his backbone.

Orpeson didn't answer. He couldn't answer for the time being. This helpless dilemma came from the gem on his chest. In the world that Melos cannot see, it is shining, and its brilliance is more dazzling and blazing than the sun at noon.

+They can't see you, but they can see Waldo and Olanez. He is a very important part of my plan. They are trying to use this to wear away his humanity and want him to return to that ruthlessness. I can't allow this to happen. +

Stop talking nonsense. Orr interrupted rudely. Tell me what to do.

+Teach him how to be the hero of mankind, Olanis. +

How the hell do I know how to teach? And he already is!

+ No, it's not enough, he's still just fighting for me. This awareness was still not enough for what he was about to do. This is all I can say, my friend. +

The man who called him a friend sighed, his voice changed, and it sounded like he suddenly returned to the past era. At that time, he still had a name instead of a cold and sacred pronoun.

+You're the best at this, aren't you? Countless people have been inspired by you to break through themselves and become the heroes they imagined they could not be, becoming a flag that stands proudly in the wind and guides others. Do it again, Olanes. +

The sound faded, and the gem was so hot that it almost melted his flesh.

Orpeson took a deep breath and returned to the cruel real world he was in.

He raised his head and looked at Melos. That look was definitely not something that a retired soldier or farmer could have.

Orl Persson, a kind-hearted retired soldier, could not look at people like this, nor could Orl Persson, who believed in the self-deconstructed Catholic god, behave so sharply.

Only one person can.

This person has been hiding in the chest of this ordinary soldier, hidden in his memory, and has been hidden for tens of thousands of years.

In the days when this man was still alive, people called him Warmaster.

Melos was stunned, even vaguely shocked, and felt a sting when he looked into Orr's eyes.

But the soldier ignored him. He just said: "Follow me."

He walked forward without hesitation. Compared to the entire battlefield, he was as small as dust. He was wearing a military uniform covered in blood and dust, and his face was covered in dirt and scorched black by the flames of war.

His weapons are nothing to the demons, and so is his life. No demon will care about such a mortal. They can kill him with just a wave or a look. on the spot.

However, his footsteps were as loud as thunder.

Neither his weapons nor his life matter, because he possesses the oldest, most upright, and rarest character of mankind.

He had the courage to do it all.

Deep loud noises spread from under his dirty boots, one after another, shocking the demons. They cast their gaze towards this place, but could not see half a human figure, only a sun rising slowly from the filthy flesh and dust.

They screamed at it.

Orpeson held the gem tightly and took a deep breath. His blood was boiling and tears were dripping uncontrollably. Melos looked at him with strange eyes, full of awe, as if he really knew him now and knew who this soldier was.

Olanes roared.

"Constantin Waldo!"

The Marshal of the Forbidden Army who was fighting in Purgatory heard this call, and he immediately determined who it was - this was the target of his mission, Orpeson, a man who was supposed to escape.

This matter is undeniable and there is no room for falsehood. It is definitely not an illusion created by demons, because they are screaming and melting. Billions of demonic shadows all melted here and now, turning into puddles of mud, writhing in the mud like maggots.

Waldo didn't know what happened. He couldn't even see where Orpersson was. In fact, he couldn't even see the sun.

Instinctively, Waldo asked his master questions through the link, but there was no answer on the other end, only bursts of howling death wind.

It was only then that the Marshal of the Forbidden Army suddenly realized something was wrong with the 'link' - since the link was established, the warm and welcoming feeling, as if a missing part in his heart had been filled, had disappeared.

Moreover, it has disappeared for a long, long time. He didn't realize it until now.

He clenched the Spear of the Sun in his hand and brought its bloodless surface close to his cheek. The light dancing on it did not hurt him, but entered his eyes gently, bringing a voice he had not heard for a long time.

Before he knew it, Constantin Waldo had tears in his eyes.

+Waldo.+

Yes, I am here, my lord.

+Leave here and win for humanity. +

"Constantin Waldo!" Someone roared again, the voice was extremely rough. "come over!"

One hand grabbed his cloak and dragged him to the front of the sun. Waldo reluctantly opened his eyes and looked at it, only to see a face dyed transparent by golden light.

Orpeson let go of his hand, stumbled back a few steps, and fell to the ground on his back. Waldo straightened up and walked over to help him up. A Blood Angel looked at them without saying a word.

"Lead the way, you derelict of your duty." O'l Persson gasped and cursed. "Do you know that soldiers like you have to be whipped?"

Waldo didn't know how to answer. He nodded with a twitching and distorted face, trying his best to suppress the urge to smile.

He asked: "Can you still leave?"

"Even if we can't, we will contribute to this." A voice said.

Corvus Corax walked slowly, surrounded by crows behind him. The Primarch's eyes were calm.

　update completed.

　　

　

(End of this chapter)