40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 503 21. The idol is broken and the dead are resurrected ()
The Night Soul is a very typical Retribution-class battleship. It does not have good maneuverability, but it has thick armor and firepower that is so powerful that it is almost incomprehensible.

Most of the designers responsible for this model have a huge phobia of insufficient firepower, so they want to fill the sides of the ship with huge weapon arrays, and frantically arrange the macro cannon and torpedo arrays like machine gun positions.

He had no regard for the burden this would place on the crew responsible for loading the bombs. Not only that, this person also installed a smaller number of light spears on the ship's spine, as well as a Nova Cannon hidden under the bow of the ship.
Simply using the word "excessive firepower" to describe the Retribution-class is completely inadequate, but it does have its benefits - the Retribution-class's firepower gives it a special kind of deterrence.

As long as you find an opportunity to aim, most enemies within the range will be directly smashed to pieces by a volley. They wouldn't even have a chance to fire, and the void shield was ineffective under this level of firepower.

There is no doubt that the Night Soul is a battleship that can strike fear into its enemies. But the problem is that the enemy she is facing now does not exist in a cold vacuum.

It is on the deck of the Night Soul. No matter how powerful her firepower is, facing an enemy that cannot hit it, it is just useless paper data.

"Shen!" Samus roared. "it's time!"

No one answered, only the deep darkness surging on the deck. This ancient warship seemed to be extremely angry at its arrival. Thick fog swept in, followed by strong winds, turning the cold fog into countless cold sharp knives thirsting for blood.

They hovered around the demon, creating countless wounds on its body. Thick blood gushed out of the wounds. Before it had time to dissipate heat and cause blasphemy, the sharp knives were inserted into it and turned into ice shards, flung away and shattered.

Samus burst out laughing, exhaling two streams of heat from his moist nose, not caring about his injuries.

"They don't understand at all how many people's efforts are hidden behind the innate gift of life. They don't know that the right to survive is something that countless people like you fought desperately across the galaxy to get back. .”

At the top of the corridor, the pipes responsible for transporting energy and maintaining temperature bent spontaneously, as if the battleship itself was bowing to Shen, and then broke in unison, as if saying goodbye. From the break, steam gushes out continuously, obscuring Shen's presence.

"How long have we been waiting for this day?" the devil asked with a sigh.

This time is the only exception. Because Shen didn't hide his arrival, nor the changes in him. Samus did not escape, he even stopped in place and watched Shen strolling from the end of the darkness.

A burst of fire flashed across the porthole, completely illuminating their faces. The deck rumbled, and the ripples of the void shield took on a psychedelic purple color in the firelight. Not far away, Litatra continued to burn, and the disintegration of the Furious Abyss continued.

Except this time.

"In my opinion, most mortals don't actually deserve to be alive."

Seeing this scene, Samus laughed unknowingly. He turned his ears and began to listen to Shen's heartbeat that gradually became stronger and thunderous, and his smile gradually widened.

Shen looked at him indifferently, and the molten iron and steam began to twist, as if they were alive, and embedded themselves one by one into the molten cracks in his blackened armor.

The weak light was completely swallowed up, and the flames burned fiercely in the darkness. The composite steel that made up the deck was twisted and deformed, and was burned by the angry flames into crystal clear hot metal, and silently clung to Shen's armor.

"They have never seen you rolling in the mud, rushing one after another in death, biting the enemy like wild dogs. They have no gratitude or respect for you. Instead, they regard you as a disaster, just because you only show up. In the most dangerous places."

But Shen didn't answer.

Shen shook his head gently, and the demon nonchalantly stretched out its right paw and tapped the porthole. It could have easily tore the porthole to pieces like it was a piece of white paper, but it didn't do that. Instead, it started very seriously. Explain its thinking to Shen.

It put its left paw on its chest and seemed to be polite. Shen didn't answer, so it stared at Shen unblinkingly with its wet animal eyes, full of expectation, hoping to get his answer.

Its face, which looks like an animal but not an animal, but not a human being, is filled with pure excitement, as if it has been waiting for today hundreds of times.
——And this is indeed the case, it was indeed expelled hundreds of times by the Shadow Knights.

This dispute can be traced back to Calth ten thousand years ago, and during these ten thousand years, the battlefield of hatred has expanded to the entire galaxy.

Only those burning eyes were still clear.

He never answered.

It sighed with emotion.

It once appeared along with the demonic tide on the Great Wall of Fortress in the solar system, attacking the defense lines with the intention of entering the broken Terra. He also secretly entered Velaine, the home world of the Shadow Knights, and caused a bloody storm in it.
It’s not like no one has tried to banish it with angry flames, so as to get rid of it once and for all. However, this beast is extremely cunning. If it senses the aura of angry flames, it will never appear.

Those fragments were like burning comets traveling around the galaxy, spanning thousands of worlds, just to come to this world to rain down fire and hit the ground, forcing the continental plates to shift, hive cities to be destroyed, and civilians to die one by one amid screams.
"Isn't it beautiful?" Samus asked.

"As I said last time, Shen. In my opinion, they are just wasting their lives. But it's different now. Now, these numb people have a chance to turn back."

"Ah, by the way, I must admit one thing to you. In fact, I don't like Erebus. Even for an inanimate person like me, he is really disgusting."

"In my opinion, he is just a bastard who pretends to be noble. However, even for such a bastard, he did one thing right - he brought enlightenment to your world and people."

Samus sincerely closed his paws and straightened his rickety waist like a human. There was a desire that only humans had on the beast's head.

"After today, will those mediocre mortals continue to sink?"

Samus's eyes widened and he spoke a soft question between his tiny fangs. Then, there were more words that didn’t look like they should come from the mouth of a demon. Every sentence is laced with philosophy, and every word is filled with bloody expectations.

In the darkness, Shen's heartbeat sounded like thunder.

"No, they never will again," Samus said softly. "After today, they will cherish every minute and every second of their lives."

"As long as they can survive until the next day, then the morning sun will become the brightest and warmest light in their lives. But this has a prerequisite."

Samus released his paws, letting them hang naturally next to the refractory sheep's hooves.

The demon roared. "The premise is that there must be a hero to save them!"

Shen stared at it indifferently.

In the darkness, his non-existent shadow began to burn.

Then the steam burst, the fog dissipated, and the dark armor and chains turned into pale ashes under the boiling molten iron and fell completely. What is exposed underneath is not a bare chest, but another kind of armor.

A kind of armor between flesh and steel, as ferocious as the sacrificial ceremonial armor unearthed in ancient times.

Once upon a time, priests wore similar things, smeared their entire faces with blood, took over the authority of their gods, and recited ancient prayers in living sacrifices.

But now Shen didn't say anything. The dark flames slowly enveloped his face and began to burn his flesh and blood, turning everything into ashes in the rising black smoke.

In the end, only a white but ferocious bone surface remained in place. The black smoke that had not completely dissipated accompanied the burning of the flames. Escape.

The mark of the eight-pointed star of chaos quietly appeared at his feet. One corner was extremely bright, beating endlessly in the bright red. Every time it jumped, there was a thunderous sound.

It was as if a heart buried under the ground had just been taken out from the enemy's chest, still bleeding freshly, waiting for a sharp blade to pierce it.
What was once Shen began to growl in the darkness.
-
Sevatar slowly put on his helmet.

He had a private armaments room, and although he himself did not want such a thing, Sevatar set up such a place for himself under the persuasion of generations of Chapter brothers.

He still doesn't like it here.

In his opinion, this room served no purpose other than to demonstrate unnecessary authority and special status. He did not have so many weapons that he needed a private armament room for separate storage.

After all, over the past ten thousand years, he had deposited all the weapons he had captured and been rewarded into the Chapter's arsenal. Recruits with excellent training performance can receive them, veterans can receive them, and the elites of the combat company are required to have a sophisticated weapon.
Furthermore, Sevatar did not make the warband in need.

With Nostramo on their back and numerous connections within the empire, they simply could not afford to be poor. Although the fine gold ore produced from Nostramo can no longer be traded or given away, there is no problem in internal digestion.

So, what is the use of this private weapons room?

Sevatar glanced down at the servitor who was holding the chain halberd and looking at him, and stretched out his right hand. The servitor lowered his head respectfully, followed the set procedure, raised his hands, and held his weapon reverently. Handed over.

The servo skull began to play prayers and triumphal hymns from within the Ecclesiastical Church, and in the holy murmur, Sevatar held his weapon. Then, there was a bright golden light falling from his head.

These are the remains of devout believers who voluntarily donated their remains after death.
Savita suppressed his urge to run away immediately and allowed the golden ashes to fall on him before leaving the armament room.

The war is no longer what he was familiar with. The power of faith is prevalent in it. Although he has refused the National Church to send military chaplains to the Nightfall, he cannot stop them from sending these pious remains again and again.
They're useful against demons, and not just demons. With this in mind, the Night Blades are perhaps the Chapter that needs them the most in the entire galaxy.

Thinking of this, Savita chuckled without any smile, full of ridicule. He suppressed this emotion and quietly went to the boarding deck.

In the dark hangar, Night Blade's eight large companies were waiting silently, with eight flags waving gently above their heads. These flags have experienced thousands of years of wind and frost, have become dilapidated, and are covered with blood, but they are still hung here without repair.

Sevatar raised his head and glanced at them, without saying anything, he just threw the chain saw halberd. A veteran in the first company immediately reached out and took it, appearing to be used to it.

Then, the iconic hoarse voice of Yago Savitarian echoed in the huge hangar.

"Ten thousand years."

He said, and then slowly took off his helmet, his pale face was only calm, and there was no trace of the frivolous indulgence of the past.

"I often stare at my own face in the mirror, but I don't find any trace of aging. I am still the same as I was ten thousand years ago, and there isn't even an extra scar."

"Time has been too generous to me. My body functions have not weakened in these long years, and my strength and speed have never been slowed down. The only problem is that time has not changed my soul."

"My perspective on the world has not changed much from 10,000 years ago. I am still used to treating the world in the same way as in the past. So I remember each of you. Every deceased person in these 10,000 years, their tombstones and the epitaph were carved by me myself.”

"I watched your seniors pass the selection, enter the battle group, undergo surgery, and finally wear armor and become a night blade. Then, I watched them die, die in various ways."

"The post-war data reports cannot reflect the loss of living lives. They were submitted to the Ministry of Military Affairs and received many awards and honors. However, who remembers those who died?"

Sevatar smiled.

"Only I remember," he said softly. "I remember them, and then, it's you. The cycle begins over and over again. I watch you go through selection, training, survive the transformation surgery. Then become the Night Blade, and finally stand here, ready to step into hell."

His smile began to gradually widen, a smile that the Night Blades had never seen before. In their impression, Yago Savitarion seemed to have never smiled. At least I haven't laughed so genuinely and from the bottom of my heart.

"But no matter what the final result is, I will remember you."

He raised his right hand and hammered his chest: "Yes, Yago Savitarion will remember all of you. And if we win and he comes back, I will introduce you to him one by one. He will also Having known you, he will remember you, just as I will.”

No one spoke, only a neat light emitted from the scarlet eyepiece.

Sevatar raised his hands and put the helmet on himself again.

".Now, get ready. We're going to hell."

(End of this chapter)