Chapter 125: The Fires of Vengeance
The climate of Gavin was refreshing. If human activity were reduced, this planet could earn the reputation of a paradise world... but now, the escalating fires of war had made the very air grow hot.
"For the blood of Sanguinius!"
A crimson-gold Angel fell from the sky, ignoring the energy shield of a Questoris-class Chaos Knight. His blood-stained spear cleaved through the cockpit, impaling the pilot who had fused with his neural-linked throne, and then shredded him in the sky. The remains spread with the wind, like a blood-soaked banner.
He had slain the enemy general and taken his standard.
The Black Rage, the dying wail of the Angel, had left countless scars on the souls of his sons, attaching itself to every Astartes, bringing an eternal torment. It would devour the human mind, and in the end, transform them into a monster of despair and vengeance.
It was a curse. It should not exist, and it should not remain. But when the Angels charged, they unhesitatingly unleashed this fury before their fellow Astartes. The natural-born killers no longer needed to disguise themselves, because their wrath would only be borne by the enemy.
SCREECH!
A greatsword swung. Energy shields and mutated flesh were both shattered. The teeth of the chain-weapon dragged the body of a Chaos monstrosity forward with the Angel's stride, like a surging tide of gore.
"Prince of Pleasure above!" a cultist leader's pupils constricted. He was trembling all over before the enemy had even reached him, watching the warriors, nearly three meters tall, charge towards him.
CRACK!
A deafening roar. Several layers of the military formation were torn open by brute force and an absurd precision etched into their very blood. The Slaaneshi fanatics were trampled, their shrines toppled, pierced by countless weapons and a rain of bullets, and even torn in two by the Angels' bare hands.
BOOM!
A Chaos Knight was knocked down by countless impacts. Seth climbed onto it, his massive twin chainswords buzzing, throwing countless sparks as they ground the pilot's blood and the mech's internal structure together and tore it all out.
"Sanguinius, witness me!" The crimson Flesh Tearer bathed in the flesh and blood of the heretics and the foul.
This guy is like a cannibal.
The cultist was certain that if this man were not wearing a helmet right now, the flesh and blood splattered on his faceplate would be in his stomach. He was like a beast that had been starved for countless years, who had opened its eyes to find an incomparably delicious dessert.
And there were a thousand such beings!
The incredibly dense defensive formation was torn open by the sons of the Angel.
"Son of the Angel, have you lost your mind?!" a Sanguinary Priest's low roar echoed in Seth's ear. He too had charged into the fray with the Great Angel, tearing the breach wider and wider. But he still maintained a degree of restraint, walking quickly behind his brother. His low roar already carried a killing intent. And the sons of the Angel, charging and killing in the crowd, were like daemons erupting from purgatory.
At least in the eyes of the cultists, they were even more terrifying than daemons.
The Sanguinary Priest swung his flail with a sense of helplessness. But before he could try to plug the gap in the formation, a member of the Destroyer squad had already moved to fill it.
This doesn't look like someone who has lost his mind.
"I am fine! Better than ever!" Seth roared back. He could feel the rage trying to annihilate his mind, to devour his humanity. But when the cold fury was about to touch his soul, it melted away like snow touching the sun. "I can distinguish my enemies! Under the guidance of the Great Angel, I can channel this rage towards his enemies!"
The Sanguinary Priest was slightly taken aback. How is this guy Seth different from the others who have fallen to the Black Rage? Those comrades who have fallen deep into it are basically impossible to pull back.
"This is what the Great Angel has given us." The Great Angel would not despise them for their flaw. He clearly knew the necessity of the Thirst and the Rage. And so he came to teach the sons of the Angel how to use them.
WHOOSH!
The chainsword paused. The moment it took a head, it changed its trajectory. Seth leapt over the local mortals who had been left behind by the fractured lines. Yes, they would use this power correctly.
Seth turned his gaze to the daemonhosts, those dangerous beings hidden in the crowd. At the very front of the formation, the crimson-gold Angel's radiance was unrestrained.
Yes, the sons of the Angel should not have to hide.
"I believe you," the priest said calmly, throwing his adamantium-bound Liber, smashing a Slaaneshi Beast that had been holding its breath and trying to crawl away.
"You must believe in the Great Angel."
A barrage from a las-repeater swept towards them. In the past, even an Astartes would have had to avoid such an attack. But now—the adamantium plating perfectly fulfilled its defensive duty, absorbing the shockwave and the beam together. The jump pack on his back erupted in a blue flame, and Seth instantly shot ten meters into the air.
The soldiers on the ground, who were guarding a local, unknown model of armored vehicle, stared blankly as the behemoth carved a parabola through the air and landed heavily in front of them.
THUMP!
The massive impact sent the people around them tumbling. Before they could get up, Seth twisted his body, the muscles enhanced by his muscle coils, combined with the ferocious power of his Gravis heavy power armor, and swung the armored car like a heavy hammer at the surroundings. The nearby enemies were killed on the spot.
And the enemies further away were still trying to close in, but Seth was already running at full speed. Running towards the back of the Angel.
Karna, shining with a crimson-gold light, charged forward as always, dragging a thousand Angels behind him, trampling the military formation, leaving only the flesh and blood cut down by their disruption fields in their wake.
Forward!
The heretics, in terror, dodged to the sides of the formation, making it even more chaotic. The traitor nobles, who still had a bit of a brain left, were trying to figure out how to respond, but the heavy armored units, which had now spread out into formation due to the Angels' assault, were already upon them.
BOOM!!!
Melta-streams, super-heated plasma, and other weapons filled with the heavy style of the Imperium began to bloom with their own light.
Countless Knight mechs exploded on the spot, their falling bodies crushing a significant number of people.
It was a one-sided slaughter.
Deep within the Duchy of Gavin, the dukes and nobles, who had just been reveling, were dumbfounded. They watched as the images they had been planning to use for their "entertainment" turned into a one-sided massacre. Even their tentacles were trembling.
"Should we retreat?" a general, who in the past had always been at the forefront of battle, stammered, pulling a skeleton from his cloaca.
"Retreat? Where do you want to retreat to?"
"Then what do you suggest we do? Can we stop the forces of the Imperium? That's an entire Astartes Chapter, and twenty thousand heavy armored troops! They can scrape every inch of this planet down by ten meters!"
A heated argument reached the ears of the Duke Regent. But this man, who had long been possessed by a daemon, had not said a word from the beginning, his face just growing uglier and uglier.
How could they be so fast?
The web he had spent countless years weaving... before he could even bare his fangs, before these hot-blooded dukes had even reacted, he had already slaughtered the astropaths. The Prince had, a month ago, spent countless resources to capture an unsanctioned psyker and had sent out a single, un-encrypted message. How could the Imperium's efficiency possibly be this high?
The system, so bloated that it could make even the Lord of Corruption's power grow, was no joke!
But now...
'It seems this world can no longer be offered to the great Prince of Pleasure. The claws of the Anathema are too powerful.'
The Duke Regent's fist tightened, and he crushed the cup in his hand into powder. The virgin's blood spilled on the ground, staining a large patch of soft, white skin.
"Hahaha, interesting, truly interesting. But it is fine. To not be able to obtain is also a kind of satisfaction—"
The people around him looked at the suddenly laughing Duke Regent, completely bewildered.
"Your Grace, should we retreat?" the general asked, sidling up to him.
"Retreat? Of course. We must retreat."
SLASH!
A line of blood appeared on the general's skull. The Duke Regent's gaunt body suddenly swelled, becoming much larger. His arms and legs, as he strode forward, turned into carapace-covered claws and exquisitely carved goat-hooves.
"Slurp~"
He grabbed the still-trembling general. A long tongue flicked out, lifted the sliced-open skull, and then carefully licked the brain, which was still twitching with the beat of the heart.
Gurgle, gurgle~
With the Duke Regent's ecstatic expression and the general's twitching body, this body, along with the pain his soul had harvested, was added to the Slaaneshi Greater Daemon's collection. He then turned his gaze to the nobles who had, at some point, fused with the flesh of the sofas.
A sweet smile split his face. "Forgive me. The situation is urgent."
Amidst silent tremors, the Duke Regent savored the slivers of pain. A crimson mist gradually gathered, forming a portal to an unknown human world.
The tall body gradually shrank, and then, with the re-stitching of flesh and blood, it transformed into a beautiful young girl.
It had been so hard to obtain a physical body. She wasn't done playing yet~
"What a coincidence. We're not done killing yet, either."
On the other side of the portal, a Space Marine in crimson-gold armor was leaning against the edge of the rift. He broke off a piece, looked at it, and then, as if seeing a piece of trash, he disgustedly burned it with a flick of his wrist. He was far taller than an ordinary Space Marine, and he was not wearing a helmet. His golden eyes were reflecting her body.
Her original body.
The girl quickly retreated, and then was grabbed by the head by an iron hand that had appeared from behind her.
When!
The iron hand tightened slightly. The girl felt her skull crack, cerebrospinal fluid shooting from her eye sockets, her now-clouded eyes filled with infinite pain and astonishment.
Even she, a Keeper of Secrets, had not had time to react.
And—
It hurts!
Her body twitched, her nerves screaming. The ecstasy that had once surrounded her like celestial music did not come. There was only a cold, pure pain.
"Thought you could run?" Ramesses said, stepping forward and patting her face. "Death is too good for you."
Ramesses was the first to step through. Arthur dragged the twitching body and followed. The two of them left the blasphemous palace together. In this city, which was completely shrouded in the painful shadow of the Prince of Pleasure, thousands of Black Templar warriors were conducting a bloody slaughter. All of these souls would be sent to the "park," to be judged by the Emperor for their loyalty.
As for the rest, the fallen who had fused with daemons...
CLANG!
A Daemonette that had descended into a physical body had its limbs shattered, and was then dragged out by a Sword Brother. He came to the side of a Chapter Chaplain. The Chaplain carefully opened a box and, after identifying it, took out a lantern. A golden flame flickered within it, and it pulled the Daemonette's soul out. As the physical body collapsed into a pile of rotten meat, the realspace domain around it strengthened. The Sword Brother took the lantern and hung it from his belt, awaiting the next combat order.
This made the Keeper of Secrets feel an intense discomfort. She could hear the wails of the daemons within, being tormented and squeezed by an unseen force. She could feel its projection in the Warp gradually weakening. An inexplicable panic welled up.
'What are you doing?!' she shrieked with her soul, unable to control her physical body. The Keeper of Secrets found in horror that she couldn't even leave this physical body.
"This is the main culprit, my Lord?" High Marshal Helbrecht asked with curiosity. His body was stained with blood, even the luxurious velvet on the joints of his pauldrons was matted with crimson. With Romulus's overall command, this High Marshal, who, even against an unparalleled enemy, would only be second in line after the Emperor's Champion, could finally empty his mind and use his own sword to punish the heretical enemy.
"Yes. A Keeper of Secrets of Slaanesh," Ramesses nodded. "This daemon will become the first trophy of the crusade fleet."
Helbrecht nodded and beckoned to a Chapter Chaplain, who brought over a pre-inscribed banner. The banner was about six meters high, made of adamantium and gold, and was inscribed with exquisite Seals of Purity and various magnificent Imperial landscapes.
'Wait, what are you doing?' the Keeper of Secrets, who was being held up, asked in a panic. She was then thrown onto the banner by the ever-silent Arthur.
The banner was a highly technical piece of equipment. It had no bloody spikes, no nauseating flaying-wheels, only a functioning, simply-blessed stasis-field generator. This kind of technology, which had been corrupted by the Warp, was rarely used against daemons, because it was easily nullified by Warp influence.
But the Keeper of Secrets soon knew why these Space Marines were doing this.
FWOOSH!
As a surging flame engulfed it, an endless pain that assailed the senses washed over it. Feeling its own weakening and the gradually strengthening reality-barrier around it, the Keeper of Secrets' terror could no longer be contained.
She knew she was going to die.
'I'll talk! I can give you my true name, all my secrets! Please, let me down!'
The burning skeleton, frozen in a silent scream, was hoisted up by a venerable Chaplain.
"The arch-fiend has been vanquished!"
Facing the light of the brilliant golden flame, Helbrecht roared, "Sons of Dorn! Let us cut down the enemies of the Emperor!"
"Cut down the enemies of the Emperor!"
The black knights, facing the fluttering banner, began to sweep through the city. And compared to the weaker daemons, the light of this Greater Daemon could last for a very long time.
"Vashtorr's tech, plus our own special traits, is really useful," Ramesses remarked. It turned out that as long as the style was right, a daemon engine could still be used. He had been killing a lot of daemons recently and had developed a fairly detailed slaughtering process. The experimental Gellar Field he had used on Pierdra had also been simplified under his research.
Ramesses had always had a dream. He couldn't be the only one to use daemons as expendable materials. Good things had to be shared. Not only should he use them, but he should also promote them.
The other Chapters had all been a bit hesitant, but when Ramesses had proposed this project, the warriors of the Black Templars had acted like he had hit their kink. After he had carefully communicated with their high command, they had formed this system. Ramesses would periodically perform a "ritual of the Emperor's gift" with a selected Chaplain of the Black Templars. The Chaplain could directly communicate with the golden sun in the Warp and hand the daemons over to the Emperor for judgment through a simplified ritual. And the reward the Emperor gave to his loyal warriors was the heretic, burned to nothing in the golden flames, and a reality that was strong enough to expel the influence of the Warp and re-stabilize.
Arthur silently stared at his partner. Ramesses's story was quite well-crafted. He had even dragged Arthur into it to have the Emperor shine his light on him. As for whether it would be investigated... well.
Would the daemon eventually die? Yes.
Was reality stabilized? It was.
Did it bring convenience to the Chapter's operations? It did.
Did any battle-brother communicate with a daemon during this process? No.
Then that's that!
It works, it works well, and they love to use it!
If you're still叽叽歪歪ing about it, tell me, are you sympathizing with the daemons?!
"The Emperor's Will, a torch to pierce the shadow," a Chaplain intoned.
The Keeper of Secrets was screaming silently. In this reinforced reality, its wails could not produce a single echo. It was just impaled on the banner, staring blankly at the distance.
A broken Knight mech arrived. Behind them were equally broken people.
A gaunt, skeletal scavenger. He had refused the aid of the medical-Sisters. In the past, he was just an animal whose very existence was a waste of his master's food.
Now, they were in the same company.
In the company were merchants, commoners, slaves.
"Stop! You will stop!"
The Knight, who had not flinched in the face of Astartes and an armored regiment's joint assault, was now hysterical in the face of these people. He could not accept it. He could not accept that his failure was at the hands of these inferior dregs.
But his hysteria could not stop anything.
Countless people dragged these heretics from the flesh-lined chambers. What awaited him was an execution that matched his sins.
The Keeper of Secrets shifted its mental gaze and looked at the Black Templars below.
The eyes of these Astartes held only contempt.
The contempt for the heretic and the foul. The contempt for the great creations of the Empyrean.
It was the insignificant sufferers in the eyes of these daemons, now taking their revenge. Taking their revenge on this man-eating universe.
The war was over—
[Record: Gavin Support Operation]
[Forces Deployed: Four thousand Astartes, three hundred Stormbirds, twenty thousand Cadian Heavy Armored Troops, four hundred Sisters of Battle, various armed vehicles]
[Adeptus Mechanicus Forces: Not deployed]
[Inquisition Forces: Not deployed]
[Result: Victory]
[Time Elapsed: 11 hours, 23 minutes]
Aboard the Dawnlight, Romulus stepped down from the command throne, closed the operational chart, and turned his gaze to the ravaged planet below.
The crusade fleet had not even had to use its naval power to completely extinguish a planet-wide rebellion.
Romulus looked out the window. The House of Gavin was prosperous. In fact, only a dozen or so Knights were needed to maintain a dynasty's rule over a planet. And the war machines the Knightly Houses were so proud of were, in the face of the true power of the Imperium, nothing more than a puff of smoke that could be crushed at will.
A company of Sisters of Battle could slaughter a heretic army.
Two heavy armored regiments could sweep across a continent.
Three companies of Astartes could conquer a planet.
One tyrant could conquer a galaxy.
And this magnificent crusade fleet, an extension of the Imperium's power.
Romulus couldn't help but clench his fist.
Such immense power, under their lead, had finally brought humanity a chance.
A chance for the vast majority of the monsters and fiends of this cruel universe to get their just deserts.
(End of Chapter)