40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 68 67. The Eighth Legion (5, [-]k)

Acid rain was pouring down, and Enrique Barbatos could swear to Terra that it was the most psychedelic cityscape he had ever seen.

The neon lights cut through the thick dark purple clouds, and the spooky spiers spread into the distance, and there were crazy shouts and terrible cries under the feet.These two sounds mixed with gunshots made the world weird and crazy, like a bell ringing before the imminent destruction.

He let out a grunt from his throat.

"Any instructions?" a man asked behind him. "Captain Enrique?"

Enrique didn't need to turn his head to know who it was - the former sword fighter in the company, Richtner.However, frankly speaking, Enrique doesn't really want to meet him now, let alone submit a talk.

Richter was earnest, persistent, prim and serious.He was not very similar to most members of the Eighth Legion, but the reason Enric didn't want to meet him was not because of his serious character, but because he didn't want to talk at all right now.

But he must answer.

"It's okay." Anrik said on the communication channel. "Just thinking."

"I see."

Richter responded briefly, then fell silent.

He's always been like this - without fighting or involving some scene where he needs to speak, he can be very quiet like an Eighth Legion soldier.

Gazing at the living hell-like scene below, Enrique couldn't help asking himself.

What kind of world is this?he thinks.Why can people fall to this point for no reason?

After the short orbital landing ended, the 2 people of the Eighth Army scattered and started their 'banquet'.They are no strangers to this, and it might even be better to say that small-scale operations scattered like this are what they have been doing all along.

However, Nostramo is different.

Nostramo was different from all the battles they had fought before, and all the sins they had experienced were different.

"I thought I already knew how to spell the word sin"

Enrique laughed mockingly, jumped without warning, and jumped off the spire.

Raindrops slid across his eyepiece, and various visual readings were scanned line by line. There was also the sound of hunting wind behind him, which was Richter's voice.He will act with Enrique tonight.

But how?

This hive named Quintus was extremely insane. His brothers shuttled between the upper and lower hives, and the curses and whispers in the communication channel never stopped.

The soldiers of the Eighth Legion who were once taciturn began to describe the scenes they saw on the communication channel—those hellish scenes.

Fragmented corpses.

Dazed by the potion, the nobleman who was dazzled by the potion danced among the naked dead.

Scattered limbs hung in black cloth wrapped in butcher shops.

The gang of ghouls outside the incinerator
And children, children used as soldiers.

Enrique landed steadily and landed on the top of a building.Under the helmet, his expression was indescribable.

"Richter, any insight?" he asked succinctly. "In your opinion, how should we act in this hive called Quintus?"

"Already eleven scattered squads are clearing the nest, my Captain."

Richter stubbornly called Enrique as the company commander. After landing, his right hand was always pressed on the power sword hilt at his waist.

The Eighth Legion did not much like to use guns when sneaking into combat.

"Yes—so what? Give me more advice, Richter."

"I am no longer your adjutant."

Said the old-fashioned man. "Therefore I have no way of giving you any further advice, unless you are willing to reinstate the officer."

"That's for tomorrow, and the Primarch will tell us what to do at tomorrow's meeting—so stop sticking to the rules, Richter."

Enrique crouched down, and his gloomy blue armor naturally disappeared into the night.

There are madmen running around in the streets, running from one alley to another.They roared a hissing phrase, brandished guns or knives, and smeared their faces with blood.

Staring at them, Enrique caught a unified character - these people carved it on their foreheads, deeply carved, and the blood spread from there to the whole face.

"Those words."

Richter seemed to be able to read his heart, and the Gothic language sounded softly in the night. "My company commander. Have you noticed?"

"Of course I noticed."

Anrik stood up calmly, the power armor buzzing.He turned and walked to the other side of the building, watching a madman run into an alley.

"A cult?" Richter asked softly.

"Not necessarily. But I have reservations. Adbeman of the third company said that he encountered a spectacle in another hive city. I blocked him without listening to his detailed description. But I think it should be no worse than How good are other people's accounts. This is a hell star, Richter. Is there a place for cults to survive here?"

"People always need faith."

"people?"

Enrique laughed, his voice became hoarse with overwhelming rage, and rustled in the voice channel: "You call these things people?"

"Judging by appearance alone. Yes." Richter said noncommittally, and then jumped off the building.

He already knew what his company commander wanted to do, and this tacit understanding didn't even need to be communicated in words.

Anrike followed closely behind, and they landed quietly at the gloomy alley.

The huge sound was almost silent due to the several buffers during the fall, and the crazy rain and the broken echo from not far away also helped them eliminate the sound to a certain extent.

In the darkness they stood silently, watching their prey approach from another alley.

The latter was shirtless, his naked body was very thin, and his arms were full of needle holes from injections.

He had a pale face, his dark eyes frantically moved around, and the blood on his forehead made the color of his entire face messy and abstract, like a painting of a crazy person.

Without much words, Anrik reached out and grabbed him.

The latter was terrified at first, and then, after seeing Eric's tall body with the help of the remaining light, he actually calmed down again.

The cult believer began to cry and laugh, and used the dagger in his hand to deepen the inscription on his forehead, and the blood flowed out, but his hands became heavier every time without stopping.

Richter stepped forward, grabbed his throat, and ended his pathetic life.Enrique put the corpse by the wall, and then squatted down. He stared at the bloody and messy forehead, and firmly memorized the words on the alien planet.

"Cult."

Richter said.

"And most of them worship an image about death. The height of this image may be very similar to ours, otherwise he wouldn't be so calm when he saw you."

"You're still as fond of speculation as ever."

"It's just a reasonable speculation based on the existing facts. What should I do? Track down this cult? According to my experience, these cults in the hive capital will always lead to some huge darkness."

"You don't have as much experience as I do."

Enrique shook his head and carefully observed every detail of the corpse.But he did not forget to continue the dialogue with Richter. "It stands to reason that there shouldn't be only one kind of cult here."

"."

"This nest is not small, Richter. To be honest, I really don't understand why this world has become like this."

"In the past, there are traces of the depravity we witnessed with our own eyes. Even those slave catchers who borrowed merchant ships as cover were just for money. But what about Nostramo?"

"There is no trace of madness here, it seems to have existed since ancient times. But we haven't seen the creations of technology, have we? Even the air filters that are everywhere here are unimaginable on some planets things"

Slightly sighing, Enrique sighed.

"They can obviously become better, so why do they degenerate like this?"

"."

Richter didn't answer.

Anrik frowned slowly.

Richter's reticence is divided into time periods, and now is not the time for him to be silent.

what's the situation?
Enrique breathed calmly, but his right hand resting on his knee began to move back little by little.At his waist was a bolter, firmly clipped to the arming belt, unable to be disarmed by any movement unless he reached out to remove it.
Anrik's movements stopped.

He didn't touch the gun—he'd done it a million times, and he knew his gun too well, but
He didn't touch his gun.

No, there is nothing there.

What his fingers touched now was blank air, not a solid grip.

"The Vengeful Spirit."

A voice sounded in the gloomy alley, with a little thoughtfulness.Then, there was the sound of the bolter's magazine being unloaded. Enrique was so familiar with it, it was impossible to hear it wrong.

He stood up stiffly, turned his head slowly, and saw a giant who was more than twice his height was staring at him with his head down.

Richter leaned against the wall behind, silent without saying a word, his right hand was still pressed on the hilt of the sword, but he did not pull it out.That posture was quite embarrassing, and people could intuitively feel his emotions at the moment through the power armor.

"Lord Rohars."

Anrik bowed his head in greeting.

"Why are you here?"

"In a sense, this hell is my home—so why can't I be here?"

".Are you going to this dinner too?"

"I was invited, wasn't I? You were there when I was invited, Enrique."

Khalil chuckled, and returned the bolter to Enric: "Sorry, it's really helpless to take your weapon away. I don't want to hear the loud noise of this kind of gun in Quintus tonight. rang inside."

Enrique reached out to take the gun with difficulty, and with a click, he reloaded the magazine, and then put the gun back on the armed belt around his waist.

".So, the Vengeful Spirit?" he asked. "What does that mean? Can you tell me a little bit?"

"That line." Khalil raised his chin. "The words he carved on his own forehead are in Nostramo, and the name is Vengeful Spirit."

"The Vengeful Spirit?" Enrique repeated again. "A cult?"

"If you look at it according to strict standards, yes, it is a cult. It's just that this cult has not been established for a long time, not even two weeks."

"They worship this vengeful ghost?" Enrique asked, his tone a bit dignified.

"Yes. They see it as an omnipotent, ubiquitous carnage incarnate, a tall ghost that only haunts the dark, but it's interesting that they don't understand the ghost's name. The word revenge."

Khalil chuckled: "They don't know who the target of revenge is. Isn't it interesting?"

I don't know how interesting this is, my lord.Anrik sneered.

But that question came back.

Who the hell is Caryl Rohars?

"Are you familiar with Nostramo?"

"Why, do you want me to show you around?"

"...If you say so, you are right."

"Give up the honorifics, and I promise you." Khalil chuckled lightly, with a relaxed expression but a calm tone. "I don't really like people talking to me with honorifics."

".Khalil Rohars?"

"Khalil, or Rohars. It's a little too dignified to call him by his full name, isn't it, Enrique Barbatos?"

The tall giant chuckled, jumped up in the next instant, and disappeared into the alley.His voice sounded above their heads: "Come on, Enrique, Richter. I will fulfill my promise."

The former Eighth Company Commander of the Eighth Army and his adjutant exchanged glances, and silently began to climb.

They can't jump that high.
-
Frankly, if you ask, Enrique will tell you straight up.

But no one is asking now.

So, he just felt a little absurd—a giant with such power lived in such a dilapidated mansion?

With his back to them, Kalil spoke, his tone was still calm, and he couldn't hear much.

"How? The first stop to visit Quintus."

"...Where is this, Khalil?" Enric paused for a moment, finished his words, and swallowed the honorific that was about to blurt out later.

His behavior made the giant smile, and the emotion of approval was obvious, but for some reason, Enrik felt a strange emotion cross his heart.

He clutched it angrily, and tossed it to the other side.

"This is a shelter—or rather, a dilapidated house I built myself out of scrap materials I found. Well, while I think it counts as a house, one of the last few visitors insisted that my Very poor workmanship."

He laughed again.But at this moment, neither Enrique nor Richter understood whether Khalil was joking or not.

But the giant did not explain.

"See that door?" Khalil asked softly.

Of course they saw it—how could they not?That door is so conspicuous, it looks extremely abrupt and weird together with the broken iron sheet and wooden planks.

"...It seems that you are not as poorly crafted as you say, Khalil. This door looks very strong."

Enric heard his adjutant - his former adjutant - say so.Richter's tone was very calm, but out of familiarity with him, Enrique could fully hear the feeling of stagnation of not knowing what to say.

"Really?" Khalil asked thoughtfully. "Thank you for your compliment, Richter. But this door is not my creation. I don't have the skills to make such a door."

He stepped forward and wiped the surface of the door with his hands.On the door panel, which was darkened by the turbid acid rain, a black fist clenched tightly in the white paint suddenly appeared.

"."

If it weren't for wearing a helmet, Enrique would like to rub his eyes now.

What did he see?
"Is that the logo of the former Seventh Legion and the current Imperial Fists, Lord Khalil?"

Richter asked very quickly, he blurted out, and added back the honorific title.But Khalil didn't care this time.He turned around and nodded calmly. "Yes."

"The Imperial Fists came to Nostramo before us?"

The eighth company's master sword fighter slowly clenched the hilt of his sword around his waist. ".My lord, may we have an explanation?"

"They didn't come, their Primarch did," Khalil replied curtly.

After a moment of silence, Enric took a deep breath of the filtered air, and Richter's body began to shake.

How could they fail to recognize the implication behind this sentence?
Khalil, on the other hand, continued.

"The Emperor and his sons were here before you. What, you don't know? Did you not be informed of this?"

"...No, Khalil." Enrique said awkwardly. "We know nothing of anything but that the Primarch has been found."

"Um"

Khalil chuckled and shook his head: "This is beyond my expectation."

He nonchalantly went to the side of the building, his back turned to them.Taking advantage of this opportunity, Richter quickly took a step forward and began to carefully observe the solid door.

Enrique would have joined him, but out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Khalil turning around.

".Richter, there is nothing to observe about that door. It's just a door." Khalil said dumbfoundingly. "You don't have to watch so carefully"

The sword fighters of the Eighth Legion straightened their backs abruptly.

"Recently, I am only interested in architecture and design."

He began to speak a long list of words that sounded like a headache to Enrique, using his high-gothic grammar.

"I think this door is really a rare treasure, made by a Primarch, so I really can't restrain the pursuit of beauty in my heart, please forgive me for offending this door."

"Richter is indeed interested in architecture and design recently." Enrique said awkwardly, he got stuck so many times in speaking tonight that he himself found it unbelievable.

However, in any case, a proper cover-up is necessary, otherwise, this scene would be too embarrassing.

Khalil smiled, shook his head, didn't say anything, and skipped the topic lightly.Richter glanced gratefully at his captain, but Enric's face under his helmet was miserable.

Khalil didn't let the bitterness last too long, though.

"I have something to ask you." He said calmly. "Would you mind talking to me, Enrique, Richter?"

　3.5, 5.5 characters and [-] changes, which means that there are still [-] characters left to pay back.

　　There will be another chapter later, don't wait, I am really slow to change.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)