Author Notes:
First of all, shout out to Private Mailliw and Private griffin nixon! These two are the most recent patrons to support the greater good of the Imperium and the Belkan Reich! Salutation to you two fine personages!
Now, bit of a teeny bad news, postimage.cc is down so I don't think I can link images to any other site other than Patreon. Until it's fixed, which should be soon (hopefully), I will be posting the images in my Patreon's Belkan Imperialis Chatroom. If the images are of your interest, then you can join my Patreon for free to view the Chatroom's content... Which is literally just an image hoster at this point lol.
That said, new GSS chapter... Yeah, it's yet another fight scene. Is it weird of me to jot down nothing but fight scenes for GSS? Like, we're at chapter 80 (on Patreon) now and we're still stuck on Installation 08... What the fuck is wrong with me?
As such, I am asking seriously here... Should I speed up the process? Remove the unecessarily detailed fight scenes and advance the plot?
Images will be posted here when able.
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The first thing the snarling Tzaangor see is my shield that blocks nearly my entire body from their view. Then, what they witness next is a burst of golden, bright, and crackling light. The light radiating from my Black Steel is so brilliant and warm, much like that of an opulent Chapel's chandelier. Yet, one would be a fool to dismiss the brief moment of intense energy that exists beneath that resplendent glow.
More than just a Carapace Shield for a mortal wielder, my Black Steel is an object devotionally crafted with each layer, each minor circuitry exists in it, blessed with holy incense and prayers. And in a universe where faith matters, Black Steel's unique equipment, the Flash System, does more than just blind someone silly. The Tzaangor, tainted by the foul sorcery and impurity of the Immaterium, find their avian eyes seared hot, their blue skin burns, and even bubbles unnaturally as their innate sorcery, a minor protection against incoming damage, is purged by the consecrated glare. At the same moment when their mysticism is unravelled, the crackling surge of electricity that exists in the golden glow ravages their skin and muscles, causing them to involuntarily spasm, and stopping their melee charge dead in their tracks. What comes afterward is simple; I only need to finish them off right where they stand.
Dashing forward, I reveal myself fully from the dust cloud. Finally capable of visualizing the threats with my naked eyes, I level my Laspistol against the nearest Tzaangor, which is to my left, and pull the trigger thrice. Two shots obliterating its defenseless chest, the last one pierces through the head that is keeling downward now that there's little of the torso remaining to support whatever remains above it. I then move on to the next target, or set of targets, in this case. My Laspistol and shield point straight ahead, and I precisely pull the trigger in quick succession, felling the last two Tzaangor that remain stunned with vapor coming out of their skins.
BANG
I would have continued my charge, however, if not for the incoming threat of an Autocannon shell just leaving the barrel of an entrenched cultist turret at the end of the corridor. Sidestepping swiftly and calmly, I train my Laspistol on the gun turret and pull the trigger while simultaneously angling my shield. First, the las shot melts clean through the emplaced Autocannon from the muzzle to the gun breach. Then, a blink later, the fired shell comes slamming against my shield. Due to my having sidestepped the initial trajectory, thus presenting a much slimmer target profile to the shell, and my shield is presented at an acute angle, the projectile, instead of penetrating my shield, scrapes and bounces off the smooth surface. The shell, having lost a good bit of kinetic energy but still packing some bang in it, burrows deep into a section of the wall to my far left, where the Salamanders are having a literal kick in turning their threats into mush.
I ignore the surprised side-eye that Tu'rok gives me for my action as I regain my lost momentum by kicking my feet against the floor. Using the moment when the traitorous gun crew is still fussing over their recently exploded weapon, I eliminate the few remaining enemies still close to me. Two shots hit a cultist flanking my right, blowing his head and heart. And the last of my power pack is dedicated to the three other heretics that are blocking the rest of the way to the entrenched position. As the last body falls and I am in need of a fresh reload, I come to a sliding halt, crouching with my Black Steel planted right in front of me. My actions are finished, not a moment too soon, as the cultists next to the disabled Autocannon wisen up to know how to use their Autoguns and Lasguns.
CLANKCLANKCLANKCLANKCLANK
My shield vibrates incessantly as bullets and las shots impact and spark against it. I am under heavy suppressive fire, understandably, for having painted myself as a lucrative target due to my aggression. I am non-plushed, however, as I calmly remove the drained power pack of my Laspistol for a new one.
BANGBANGBANG
After three familiar bangs of a Bolt Rifle, the three heretics who are behind their protective barricades find their upper bodies disintegrated promptly. I give Tsavorae a thumbs-up, one that she receives but is unable to react to as she summarily returns to direct her flank of the hallway. A few of the Sisters of Battle are locking down a set of side corridors that all meet up to this vast central room. The barricaded position with the Autocannon from earlier is seemingly raised to protect an important room behind it. And right now, we are doing our best to breach it wide open for the Magos to take a look, having noticed some of the power lines going into it.
Speaking of that, the bulkhead door to said room is pulled open, and a whole other host of heretics, more desperate than the last batch, stream out with various weaponry. Due to the number, I turn to holler behind me.
"Scorpin! It's time to do the thing!"
"The thing? Hah, about damn time, girlie!" Scorpin, her girlfriends, and Weiss, who has been trailing behind me and aiding Johnson's group in providing rearline fire support and protection, relocate to the right where I am.
"What's the thing you all have been talking about?" Weiss asks for what seems to be the second time.
Instead of replying, Scorpin and I share a knowing smirk. As her girlfriends come to a crouch firing position to the sides of my shield, Scorpin expertly set up her Heavy Stubber, bracing it over my shoulder and on top of my shield with the bipod deployed. The Heavy Stubber is, in fact, resting on my shield with its barrel shroud, not with the bipod that is dangling in front of my Black Steel. The bipod is positioned so that it hooks against the front face of my shield. When the Heavy Stubber fires, the recoil will bring the bipod back to strike against my shield, with the shield acting as a recoil buffer that limits the gun's backward traverse. More than just enhancing Scorpin's accuracy, this posture of ours, with Scorpin bending over my head, also provides us both with an effective hard cover in a situation where there's none to be found around us, which is now.
Weiss, who has now seen us four set up a makeshift firebase around my shield, immediately gets the hint and comes to a skidding stop next to one of Scorpin's girlfriends. Without wasting any more words, all five of us level our weapons at the enemies that are now scaling over the barricade in a desperate last charge.
On instinct, I say. "Ready... Aim... Fire!"
The five of us pull the triggers of our weapons simultaneously, our curtain of firepower, a mixture of red bullet tracers and las shots, immediately punctured a gaping hole among the rows and lines of cultists. As the hot, empty brasses falling and clanking on the hard floor like the tolling of a bell tower, the cultists' incurred casualties rise to more than two dozen in just a couple of seconds. Their charge is swiftly blunted, to say the least, and the heretics running by the flanks find themselves stumbling and wavering after receiving such a massive blow. Their hesitation cost them plenty, for those traitors to mankind are immediately beset with the sprinting Astartes and Sisters of Battle. Power Swords and metal fists are swung, cutting crescent arcs as flesh and shoddy armor offer no resistance against the force behind each blow. The Chaos horde collapses then and there. Their morale is finally crushed after repeated failure after failure. Without a semblance of a chain of command, the few surviving cultists sprint back the way they came from.
Laughably, however, the bulkhead that once allowed them passage is now swiftly closing, much to their horror.
"No..! No!"
"Wait! Wait! Wait!"
And then a Melta beam strikes the bulkhead wall, blowing off the door hinge behind it. The heavy metal door collapses under its own weight as the cultists showcase mixed reactions. Some smile, thinking that they can have a chance at safety now that there's nothing blocking their path. Others pale in the horror, realizing that there's nothing to stop our advance now.
Tsavorae, after nodding gratefully at the Celestian Sister who fired that Melta beam, points her Power Sword ahead. "That's our chance! Go!"
And once more, we come dashing forward, performing a counter-charge now that the enemies are effectively routed. The Salamanders and some of the Sisters brave the danger first, owing to their impressive strides. They soon vault over the bloody barricade, filled with enough cultist corpses to paint the sandbags red, and pursue the remnants into the tactical node they have been desperately protecting. Our group of five, however, takes position by the semi-spherical barricade. As Scorpin reloads her ammo belt, we wait for the other half of Sister Tsavorae's Celestian Squad and Johnson's unit to regroup with us. While waiting, Weiss comments with a bit of an exasperated look directed at me.
"So, that was the thing? A base of fire in the middle of an open ground?"
I shrug, giving her a thumbs up. "Yup~! It did wonders, right?"
Weiss sighs, but still nods in the end. "I can't deny the result, but getting hit by hot brass repeatedly wasn't a fun experience."
We all chuckle at Weiss' expense, with me patting her on her shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it, just like you always have."
I look in amusement as Weiss gives me a deadpan look.
Our conversation is halted by Johnson, and the rest vault over and tuck themselves behind the barricade. Like us, they all direct their weapons outward at various angles. A pair of Celestians gives me a nod before moving into the same doorway that Tsavorae and Tu'rok lead their subordinates into. Even now, I still hear the death throes of frightened cultists. We would have considered pushing forward if not for the fact that someone has to be the rearguard, and the barricade is a nice location to set up our post.
The hums of machinery and metal hitting the floor interrupt me from my mulling as Magos Hedagine lowers herself to scan my Black Steel Carapace Shield.
"Fascinating... The acquired result is above and beyond even my wildest expectations." The Magos comments.
It's clear from her tone that she has a hand in the creation of my Black Steel. In fact, a good chunk of its materials was sourced from her. And there were a few steps in the prayer process that involved her participation.
"The Flash System once more proved its worth in confined engagement, especially when engaged against Warp-tainted ilks." The Magos mentally files away the Flash System's performance. "I have a feeling that the Archmagos Dominus will be eager to further research and invest in this passion project of yours, Ein."
I chuckle, giving the front face of Black Steel, bearing the Imperial Aquila, a couple of loving taps. "If anything, I can see this being an affordable alternative to an Astartes' Storm Shield. The fact that the Flash System can reliably suppress the low-rank Warp horde tactic is a nice bonus to have."
Scorpin chimes in from the side, having been the one to utilize the thing with me and my shield the most. "To be honest, it surprises me that it takes you two this long to even consider mass-producing Ein's Carapace Shield. That thing has been through so many punishments that it's extremely remarkable it's still in one, working piece."
"Ah, yes," The wise Magos acknowledges the fact. "I failed to mention it earlier, as I was taken by the efficiency of the built-in Flash System. But Ein, didn't you... Huhm... I think the correct word would be parry. Yes. Didn't you parry a 30 mm shell back then with your Black Steel? I must admit, it's a one-in-a-lifetime feat that I didn't think I would even have the chance to witness."
To this, both Scorpin and Weiss turn toward my direction, with the latter alternating her expression from horrified pale to a grim grin of shimmering rage and admonishment. Resting both her hands on my shoulders, Weiss levels me a look that is partly exasperated and partly irritated.
"Ein, I think I only leave you out of my sight for a few breaths at most... So, was what the Magos said true?"
Feeling Weiss' grip turn a bit more forceful, I am suddenly grateful that Tsavorae wasn't here; otherwise, my fate would be much worse.
[Jingwei: Ein... You could have just dodged and retaliated. I think we will need to have a discussion about needless flourishing in the heat of battle, again.]
Scratch that, I am in danger. For some reason, I feel like there's a phantom visage of Hua gripping my shoulders from behind, thus blocking any and all of my escape options. Damn it, I shouldn't have aura farmed out in the open like that!
"E-Ehehehe... Tehe?" Having no other recourse, I can only tilt my head cutely as I give it a little bonk.
"Don't you dare ehe te me, Ein!"