40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 602 120. Dark Expedition (Forty-one)

"I will reorganize the fleet," said Malakin Foros.

His fingers were shaking, but his voice was not. His voice sounded calm and firm, with reason brewing in it, and every syllable was clear.

The only remaining part of the Red Tear's communication equipment captured it completely, and the electromagnetic signal was transmitted instantly, so that the two battle barges belonging to the Weepers, the Mother of Tears and the Daughter of Storms, were able to hear the voice of the chapter leader accurately.

After the secret key was verified, they immediately spread the order to the entire fleet's communication network without any hesitation. In the next moment, at least ten captains began to ask for combat orders and report the specific situation.

They longed for leadership, or at least a simple order, such as attack or retreat. No one was blind, and installing artificial eyes was just commonplace. Everyone could see the continuous flames on the Red Tear.

However, Malakin Foros did not respond in any way.

The reason was simple: he had moved away from the communication equipment. His hand also moved away from the microphone and grasped a knife instead.

It was a long sword with a broad blade. The blade was straight and graceful. A scarlet gem was inlaid on the eagle-wing guard. The surface of the silver-white blade was covered with glittering light blue inscriptions. Once stained with blood, they would turn completely scarlet.

The weapon was called Redemption, and it was born from the hands of an angel himself. As for the runes, they came from the Space Wolves.

The wolves of Fenris once fought alongside the Weepers in a war, and these runes, called Apotropaic Talismans, were a gift from the wolves afterwards, a token of friendship.

For the next century and twenty-four years, the knife remained invincible in Malakin's hands.

There are three reasons. First, redemption is a sharp weapon that can cut through hair. Second, Malakin himself is an excellent warrior and a veteran duelist. Third, those exorcism charms can really exorcise evil spirits.

He clenched the Redemption and pulled it out. With a flash of cold light, it sank into a mass of smelly flesh and blood, splashing clean blood. Then came the second strike, this time turning offense into defense, completely blocking the dangerous downward slash of a serrated long blade.

Malakin moved, holding the knife with both hands in the burning main bridge of the Red Tear, then took a big step forward and cut the blade into a burly body again.

The demon roared in a low voice, and blasphemous words spewed out from between its fangs and sharp teeth. Malakin did not listen, but focused on ducking his head, while rotating his wrist, allowing Redemption to deftly turn into a whirlwind and slash diagonally into the demon's neck.

The pale blue exorcist talisman completely turned scarlet at this moment, and pitch-black flames could not wait to burst out from the blade, replacing the decomposition force field and blurring the boundary that should have been indestructible.
Malakin roared in a low voice, lowered his knees, exerted force from his waist, and the Redemption burning with black flames easily cut the demon itself and the brass armor in half at this moment.

The smelly flesh slid heavily to the ground, and a huge amount of blood gushed out, polluting the glorious ground of the Red Tear that had a history of ten thousand years. The Weeper spat out a mouthful of turbid blood, crushed the demon's corpse with his feet in disgust, and turned to run to another battlefield.

There, the Holy Blood Guard and his brothers were fighting against a group of demons.

If possible, Malakin really hoped that he would be the only one here. He would rather face these evil demons alone than see another angel's offspring die.

The scene of Sanguinius being taken away came back to his mind at this moment, forcing his heartbeat to speed up and his temples on both sides began to ache, as if someone was drilling into them with a drill.

Don't think about it anymore, Malakin persuaded himself. He instinctively took a deep breath, and the smell of blood at this moment transcended the obstruction of the breathing grid and reached his nasal cavity, bringing about a deep and terrifying desire.

His sharp canine teeth could not help but stick out from his lips at this moment, and the sweet and mellow taste of the blood wine of Baal that he had tasted before returned.
Malakin clenched the long sword in his hand.

The coldness of redemption dispelled his desire and all those unrealistic fantasies. It was like a good teacher, always giving Malakin a heavy blow when he could not resist something, so that he could wake up and face the cruel reality again.

There's nothing wrong with that. Malakin likes the real world, no matter how cruel it is.

He activated his jump pack, and the high-speed momentum carried him up and onto a column that was about to collapse. He grabbed it and applied a slight force, causing it to collapse.

The heavy marble collapsed like a mountain, causing huge damage in the demonic tide and also giving a boost to the precarious front of the angel descendants.

The Seraphim of the Holy Blood Guard seized this opportunity and rushed into the ground formation, wielding the relics inherited from their predecessors. However, the boarding battle was cruel, not to mention that the opponent at this moment was the demon army of Khorne.
Killing and death are part of their instincts. The killing by the Holy Blood Guard did not have any effect at all, but instead caused an even bloodier and more fanatical counterattack.

Malakin saw with his own eyes that a member of the guard was thrown down by dozens of bloodletters and then drowned. The two weepers who tried to rescue him also died with him, being beheaded and pierced through the chest by a sharp blade.
He was extremely angry, but he was completely powerless. He could only pull out his bolter and pull the trigger to vent his anger.

Once upon a time, after the Battle of Terra, the number of angel offspring became a pain point, but today, it is no longer a problem.

Malakin never thought that he would encounter the pain of his predecessors in this era.

Half a second later, he came to a tactical conclusion.

".Retreat." Malakin said, his voice echoing in the communication channel. "We can't save the main bridge. We must retreat and reunite with the main force."

Someone immediately agreed. It was Captain Seifan of the Holy Blood Guard: "That is true, Chapter Master Malakin, but I doubt whether we can really carry out your orders."

I have my doubts too. Malakin almost blurted out this sentence, but he didn't. At the same time, his jump bag shook violently.

This means that the fuel has been exhausted and he must land in a safer place, otherwise he will most likely crash into the demonic tide.

The bloodletters would be very happy to dismember him. These things will not let any warrior die. They are born to kill, the strong are best, the weak are second, and slaughter is the most important.
He turned and fell into the ranks of the Weepers, who had accompanied him aboard the Red Tear as an honor guard but were now forced to fight short-armed.

Most of them removed their belts and accompanying weapons in order to achieve a certain degree of harmony, in exchange for some flashy cloak or pauldron decoration.

This pursuit of beauty has become an unspeakable nightmare at this moment. More than one Weeper doesn't even have a basic bolt pistol and can only stand in front and speak with the sword in his hand.

This was exactly what the Khorne demons, who preferred close combat, wanted. They advanced ecstatically, gradually approaching without any panic.

Malakin didn't even need to look closely to know what they were trying to do - nothing more than to force them into a corner and then slowly eat them away. The essence of war is to find the enemy's weak point and then hit it hard. And now, their weakness has been found.
Malakin held on to his salvation.

Now that things have come to this, there is nothing more to say.

The demon as tall as a mountain took Sanguinius away. He couldn't imagine how the Primarch without a helmet could fight such a monster in the vacuum.
Pessimistic wailers believed that the best outcome would be that they could find an intact body.

Despair was gathering in his heart, but the handle of Redemption was still as cold as before. Its temperature passed through the gauntlet and reached his fingertips and two hearts, making him realize that the battle was not over yet.

This was no time for mourning, especially since the angel was most likely not dead at all. He was Sanguinius, and he would not die, especially at the hands of a foul demon.

"Brothers!" Malakin raised his blade high, his voice thundering with rage exploding from his chest like a bomb. "Let Sanguinius be proud of us!"

He rushed towards the demonic tide and began to hack and kill with all his might. The exorcist talisman drank the blood, the scarlet light never stopped, and the black flames hovered above the blade, assisting him in the killing.

Soon, the main space of the bridge was filled with corpses, and the unique stench of etheric flesh and blood had completely destroyed the living's only remaining sense of smell, making it almost difficult for them to breathe.

Malakin gasped, looking at the demons that filled every inch of space in front of him, knowing that this was the last moment.

There will be no more support, and there are no conditions for support at all.

The Blood Knights, led by Sentor, headed to the rear end of the Red Tear to surround the engine.

The Flesh Tearers acted on their nature, rushing to the most dangerous battlefields - where the Warp rifts opened. Gabriel Seth naturally recommended himself as the best candidate, but he had not contacted them for a long time.

The Blood Angels and the Lamenters were responsible for guarding the main bridge. Due to the suddenness of the battle, not many Blood Angels could make it. Chapter Master Louis Dante was also stopped by the loss of the Red Tear. The Lamenters themselves only had a 200-man guard of honor.
It can be said that it is completely an accident that they have been able to hold on until now.

Malakin Foros slowly tightened his grip on the blade, ready to hold it for the last time. He had no regrets, only the hope that he could live up to the Emperor and Sanguinius.

He heard a sound of thunder.

It seemed far away, but it was actually very close. In just a blink of an eye, it floated in from the darkness, casting a vast shadow. The clouds rolled, golden light flashed, and a blinding lightning suddenly descended, smashing straight into the center of the demonic tide, creating a piece of charcoal and flying ash.

Malakin looked at the lightning in disbelief, and the words he was about to say were completely destroyed by the subsequent chain lightning.

The main bridge was as bright as day at this moment. No darkness could remain. Lightning drove away everything and easily destroyed the foundation of the demon tide's existence.

The unholy ritual that sustained their arrival in the material world was halted by some force, and no matter how furiously the creatures roared, they could do nothing to reverse the effects.

Is it the Emperor's presence? Malakin asked tremblingly.

Two seconds later, he didn't see the Emperor, but saw Gabriel Seth covered in blood.

His Blood Reaver was stuck in the center of a demon's skull and spinning at high speed. Flesh Tearer's face was covered in blood, but his eyes were still bright. He roared and exerted force firmly, allowing the Blood Reaver to saw the demon in half from head to toe.

A group of Blood Angels followed him at high speed, and quite rebelliously boarded the speeder. With the roar of the motor, they were no longer bothered to pay attention to other things, just maneuvering the speeder to fire continuously and ram those difficult enemies to clear the way for the brothers behind them.

Malakin took a deep breath and rushed towards Seth with a knife in hand.

It was not difficult to find the Flesh Tearer who was trapped in the demonic tide. He was usually there wherever blood was flying. Malakin found him in just half a minute and asked a question.

"What was that just now?!"

"What do you think?" Gabriel Seth responded with a rhetorical question.

His facial muscles were tense and twitching, a mixture of incomparable anger and the complex emotions after knowing what happened to the Primarch, ultimately creating his expression at the moment.

Malakin glanced away, he couldn't bear to look at Seth at this moment, he didn't want to embarrass him, but the Flesh Tearer's next words were as deafening as a cannonball.

"That is undoubtedly the Holy Sign of the Emperor, but there is one problem. The person who performed it was Calistarius. Yes, the little think tank who was declared brain dead. He somehow came back from the warp and saw some prophetic images about the Primarch."

The Flesh Tearer stood up and thrust the Blood Reaver deep into the ground.

The specially treated tough head with the sword body easily sank into the sea of ​​blood under his feet. He shook his head expressionlessly, and the emotion he revealed almost made Malakin doubt his own eyes.

He couldn't believe that he saw sadness on Gabriel Seth's face.

"What picture?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Fighting." Flesh Tearer replied heavily. "A never-ending battle."
-
Sanguinius heard His voice.

As always, with the sound of swords clashing, the birth of each syllable is like the beating of a war drum, calling for the coming of war.
"You will fight," He said. "You will prove who you are."

Sanguinius wordlessly clenched the sword in his hand and looked at a monster that was much taller than him.

Kabanha stared at him, and a smile slowly appeared on the hideous and ugly animal head.

(End of this chapter)