40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 607 125. Dark Expedition (Forty-five, Angels Defeat, 6k)

"Sanguinius—!"

How many times have I heard it roar?
The angel wearily grasped the sword, blocked, knocked the steel whip away, and then adjusted his position.

His armor was broken, and this gorgeous and powerful armor could no longer provide him with any form of protection. Similarly, the "power" function that the power armor should have had was actually gone. It wasn't just a few parts that were broken, the actual situation was that only a few parts of his armor were still intact.

But Kabanha was not much better, its body was covered with crisscrossing sword scars, each deep enough to see the bone, and some swords even penetrated the neck. Any creature should die after suffering such injuries, but it was different, it would not die unless Sanguinius cut off its head or cut it into pieces.

Kabanha took two steps back, the steel whip in his hand dropped heavily. Unknown when, they returned to the surface of the blood sea again. This bottomless ocean was now only deep enough to cover the calf, and ripples surged in their battle.

It was panting, hot blood like magma gushing out of its throat, but its voice was still clear. That was not the voice of a demon, and it was undoubtedly intentional.

"do you know?"

Sanguinius stood there with his sword hanging down, swallowed the blood from his throat, and calmly asked, "Know what?"

Kabanha shook his head thoughtfully and did not answer immediately. To be fair, it was extremely absurd for such an expression to appear on its animal head.

A beast, a bloodthirsty demon - the demon who has invaded the material world the most in the past ten thousand years in Khorne's domain, committed heinous crimes, and carried endless blood feuds, but now he began to think.

Also, the idea of ​​it is interesting.

"The nature of war," Kabanha said. "I once destroyed one of your worlds, called Landrum. It was a martial world where men, women, and children were all soldiers. They received various trainings from a young age and regarded death as their final destination."

"I enjoyed fighting them. Although these mortals were still weak, they were very brave. None retreated, none surrendered, and none even wavered in the fight. Do you understand what a miracle this is, angel?"

Sanguinius walked toward it, sword raised.

He did not answer, nor did he want to think about the demon's words, but Kabanha laughed. It vomited blood again and shook its head.

"I captured a general. A sergeant who was promoted temporarily, a minor character, armed only with a gun and a sword. I looked down at him like I was staring at an ant, but he was not afraid, and instead tried to attack me."

"It intrigued me. There are many brave men among you, I admit. But these men - the Landrums - were different. So I did something I had never done before. I battled the spirit of this sergeant."

"In the past, you were the only one who received such respect. Others are not worthy of my attention. That sergeant was the second one, and was much weaker than you, but I still want to win this battle."

Kabanha raised the steel whip and swung it at the angel. As cunning and vicious as ever, the whip changed direction in the air, originally hitting the left, but changed to the right due to a provocation of the devil's wrist.

The angel dodged quickly, steadied his steps, swung his sword to knock away the steel whip, and continued walking towards Kabanha.

He walked slowly, perhaps due to a severe wound in his right leg behind the knee, which Cabanha had bitten off some time ago and reduced his mobility.

But he didn't let the devil have an easy time either. The angel retaliated by piercing the devil's left shoulder with his sword, then twisted his wrist and drew his sword to chop again.

He was just one step away from making Cabanha lose his left hand
"At first, I thought their courage was simply due to their culture's belief in death - remember, Sanguinius? They saw death as a way to repay their debt to your so-called Emperor."

"And I showed the truth to that sergeant. I showed him what I saw. I made him understand that the so-called Hall of Valor and the resting place they may believe in do not exist. There is no peace in the afterlife, only endless struggle."

"What's his name?" the angel suddenly asked.

Kabanha grinned, his sharp teeth opening and closing, and asked in a serious tone: "Does this matter to you? He is already dead, with no place to be buried, and even his soul was crushed by me."

"He has the better of you."

“How come you see?”

"If he had been defeated, you would not have told me about it - so he has triumphed over you, Kabanha. A mortal man has triumphed over you in a spiritual struggle."

"Yes," the demon nodded. "His name is Haras, Haras of Lendrum, and he has defeated me in combat."

"He accepted the cruelty of it all because he already knew it - they, all the Landrum people, already knew it. Something went wrong in a world under your rule, and they knew the truth that you carefully protected, but chose to accept it."

"They understood the essence of war, which is to accept everything and then stand tall in the struggle until death or victory. Death, or victory, angels, nothing else."

"nonsense."

The angel replied, his tone cold. He understood what Kabanha was doing - talking to regain his strength, and trying to disturb him with these words. It was a simple strategy, but it was effective, because the angel himself also needed a little recovery time.
He can still fight.

Cabanha smiled.

“No, you don’t understand enough.”

It whispered, fangs gleaming, and fluttered toward him.

The whip tore through the air with ease. The flesh and blood condensed from pure evil provided too much power, causing the steel whip to stretch straight at that moment, looking like a bloodstained rusty sword.

The angel did not block or dodge, but instead rushed towards Kabanha at an accelerated speed. The only defensive measure he took was to hold the sword across his body to block the vital parts from being hit by the steel whip.

Kabanha immediately saw his intention - it was an obvious slashing move, and the target was Kabanha's left hand, which was only connected to the skin and flesh.

The devil laughed wildly and did not even dodge. Instead, he opened his chest to the angel.

Indescribable sharp sounds rang out in the next half second, and the tip of the steel whip sank into the angel's right shoulder, shattering the flesh and bones.

The long sword slashed diagonally from bottom to top, cutting off the demon's left hand, and changed direction a second time, creating a horrifying gap in its abdomen.

Blood gushed out, but Kabanha dropped the steel whip and grabbed the angel's neck with his only remaining right hand.

"very good."

It gasped in approval, and the pungent smell of blood hit the angel's nostrils.

"To create weakness, to trade injury for injury - but are you actively overlooking one thing, Sanguinius? You desire more from this battle than I do."

Cabanha was not wrong.

Sanguinius' throat began to roll up and down. The bloodthirsty desire that had been suppressed for so long and had never left since the beginning of the battle came rushing back at this moment.

It easily broke through the barriers that the angel had set for itself in the heart. This time, it even broke free from the reins and roared and ran wildly on the yellow sand, thirsting for blood.
As a last resort, even though his neck was being pinched and he needed to break free, the angel did not do so for the time being, but returned to the yellow sand again. He was not afraid of death or defeat, but he was afraid that he would become something more terrifying due to the indulgence of desires.

——At that moment, Kabanha’s blood even attracted him.

He didn't dare to gamble, nor was he willing to gamble whether he could continue to suppress this unspeakable, innate desire under such circumstances.
The sun was blazing, the sand was scorching, and the angel fell on a sand dune, sweating profusely. He could no longer tell which period of Baal this confusing world in his mind represented, so he just stood up shakily and began to look for the wild horse that had run away.

Its whereabouts were not difficult to find. With just a cursory glance, Sanguinius saw countless deep hoof prints in the desert, which were not buried by the wind and sand, but were deeply embedded in it.

He tried to tell from the hoof prints where the beast had gone, but he didn't need to look for it. In the next moment, an unbearable sweet smell came from behind him.

The angel turned around and saw a blood-red, twisted monster, as tall as he was, but without wings. Its recurved hooves were sunken in the sand, and blood covered its bare chest.

Sanguinius fell to his knees.

He almost lost control.

He wanted to pierce the monster's neck with his fangs, then drink heartily to release the desire that had been suppressed for who knows how many years.

He did not want to be trapped in an endless political game, nor did he want to be an empty symbol, sitting in the position of regent, waiting for others to come and pay homage.
He didn't like these things, never. But he was forced to suppress himself only out of a sense of responsibility. There were so many people in this world who were more miserable than him. Why should he abandon others for his own sake?
But, but.
A scarlet hand came quietly, climbed up to his chin, and made him look up.

"But battle, honor, and blood," his lust whispered softly. "You really crave them."

No, that's not the case.

"Yes, admit it, there is nothing shameful in it. You were born to kill, all of you. Primarch is just a fancy word, the truth is, you are all just tools, tools with pre-ordained duties."

"Don't be quick to deny me. Think carefully about that glorious Great Crusade. How many people did you kill during it? How many families were destroyed by your arrival? How many worlds were reduced to dark hives, with the people oppressed and bullied?"

Sanguinius gritted his teeth and closed his eyes: I will not refute, what you said is indeed the truth, we all have blood on our hands, we are all glorious butchers. But if we don't do this, their future will be even darker. The cruelest order is still order, far better than the evil brought by chaos.
You can't shake me.

He took a deep breath, letting the smell of blood slide down his throat, and clenched his fists.

You can't shake me.

"I don't have to do this. Coming back here is the most unwise decision you've made in your life."

It knelt down and slashed its wrist with its fangs. Hot and sweet blood immediately gushed out, flowing into the yellow sand, hissing. The angel's nostrils began to twitch, like a beast smelling the scent of raw meat. Its lips bulged, and its long fangs slowly extended.
"Drink," Desire whispered. "Water is precious in the desert."

It moved its hand to the angel's head, and the blood dyed his golden hair red, then flowed down, tainting his entire body.

Veins bulged on Sanguinius's forehead, and the desire rising from the depths of his throat was suppressed again and again by his growls. But how sweet was the smell of blood? The hot liquid that slid down his cheeks eventually fell into his lips.

An unprecedented wonderful taste immediately blooms.

Sanguinius suddenly opened his eyes, his pupils as thin as needles. His clenched fists suddenly loosened, and then he grabbed the hand that was still bleeding and bit it.

The fangs pierced into the flesh, bringing out more blood. He began to lick the wound constantly, his throat rolling, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of hot blood into his throat.
How could it feel so good? Sanguinius drank greedily from his uncontrolled desire, finally letting go of the burden he had carried for ten thousand years.

He continued to drink and tear at his flesh, completely unaware of the situation he was in - until a deep laugh came from his ears.

Sanguinius opened his eyes again and saw Kabanha's face.

"I win," the demon announced with satisfaction and pride.

What? What is it saying? The angel took a deep breath in confusion, but a warm and fishy smell came from his mouth and nose. He was stunned and looked down, only to see a pair of bloody hands and a demonic body that had been ripped open.

The angel stood there for a few seconds, and his body suddenly began to tremble.

Kabanha suddenly burst into laughter, and his exposed internal organs twitched with the laughter.

"Have you forgotten, Sanguinius? A spiritual battle, you said! Do you think this battle will be limited to the use of swords? No, with your current weakened skills, I can easily kill you, but this battle must be fair, remember?"

"This sea of ​​blood was originally prepared for me. No matter how badly you injure me, I can absorb it and recover instantly, but I didn't do that. I want to defeat you head-on, and I will make you admit your defeat with your own mouth."

The demon staggered to its feet, its internal organs spilling out of its gaping chest and abdomen, but it didn't care.

Kabanha suppressed all his smiles, clenched his remaining right fist, and raised it high. At this moment, its sound was as loud as thunder.

"Now I win," it said slowly. "And you lose, Sanguinius."

"See, you and I were not so different. Remember what I told you on Signus? You and I were supposed to be brothers, connected by blood, sharing the same blood and bloodshed - now you see the truth."

"Your heroic image and your tenacious perseverance have all vanished without a trace in this moment of indulgence in blood lust. You even accept the blood of demons. You regard the blood of a monster you call evil and filthy as a treasure and are unwilling to waste even a drop."

"Now, tell me, Sanguinius - can you return to your sons with your head held high? Can you gaze upon your brothers with normal eyes? Can you once again say, For the Emperor?"

"Choose."

Kabanha lowered his voice and whispered mockingly in a whispering tone.

"To die here, as Sanguinius. Or to return, deceiving yourself, with your desires unsealed. Choose, angel. My only weapon will be waiting for you to make your own judgment."

After a long time, Cabanha heard a roar.

It was stunned because it had not expected this. But it was also surprised because the roar was a roar of anger, and that anger was pure.

There was no rational boundary, no logic contained in it, all the self-control and repression were thrown into the flames at this moment, becoming the most suitable fuel. Kabanha had never seen such pure anger - never.

The moment this thing appeared, it overwhelmed Sanguinius's blood thirst that he had suppressed for ten thousand years, and then more, everything.
Sanguinius howled and lunged at it, but not empty-handed. A sword somehow appeared in his hand, and that sword showed one thing: Sanguinius was still a warrior, not a beast.

Cabanha laughed out loud.

It threw a heavy punch, ignoring its own injuries. The angel slashed back, cruelly cutting the fist apart and wedging it between the demon's bones.

Bleeding and gasping for breath, Kabanha twisted his wrist and used his own hand bones to force Sanguinius' sword out of his hand.

It laughed and took a step forward, raising its right fist again. The violent force blasted open the sea of ​​blood, corpses floated up and down, countless swords and weapons flew out, and one of them was a steel whip that fell into its mouth.

The demon chuckled, bit the whip, and used his knees and shoulders to push away Sanguinius's subsequent attack. Then he swung his fist again, and the blade flew out from the gap between the bones.

The angel flapped his broken wings and roared into the sky, grabbing it with one hand. At this moment, the steel whip covered with hideous barbs came at him quickly, wrapping around his right ankle.

Kabanha roared, exerted force with one hand, and burst out with unparalleled courage, and actually pulled the angel down.

Countless blood flowers splashed from the place where he fell, and a figure followed closely behind him, smashing the blood curtain and rushing towards the demon. His bones were broken, his tight skin was cracked on his muscles, and his blood vessels exploded, but he seemed to be unaffected.
He was captured by anger.

At this moment, time seems to stand still.

Kabanha saw clearly the distorted face of Sanguinius, the broken armor, the protruding fangs and the still sharp weapon. He held it tightly in his hand, even though he was completely controlled by anger.

Still a fighter, still a fighter, refusing to become a beast.
Even if it's crazy.

"Only you." Cabanha whispered silently.

It swung its whip, but was deflected by the sword. It retreated, and the angel roared and chased after it. It feinted to lure the angel to draw his sword early, but the crazy warrior ignored it and let the steel whip fall on his neck and tightly wrap around it, without stopping his frantic pace.

He raised his right hand high, and the blade fell, slashing from the wound on Kabanha's broken left shoulder to the gaping belly. He was covered with wounds, bathed in blood, and his face was hideous, looking both beautiful and terrifying.
Kabanha stared at him blankly, and his figure suddenly became smaller. Starting from the left shoulder, its body was cut off, and a small part of the body with the head and right hand slid into the sea of ​​blood.

Despite this, its right hand remained clenched tightly, still wrapped tightly around the angel's neck, without any relaxation.

A smile emerged on the demon's head, the sea of ​​blood surged and began to boil, and a will roared in it, asking him to accept the healing of the sea of ​​blood, then stand up and continue fighting.

"No," Cabanha said. "I won once, but I also lost once. This is the final result of this battle, my Lord."

The sea of ​​blood surged violently, and then suddenly subsided.

The will angrily said yes, which was a praise, but also a rebuke.

You lost, Kabanha, you lost to Sanguinius! He scornfully but delightfully applauded from his brazen throne. But you also won over him! For this I will -

Thunder roared, and one weak demon after another screamed in the waves of chaos, perished for it, was born for it, and then was captured by anger in an instant, becoming one of the countless blood demons.
"—I need nothing more, Blood God," Kabanha said.

He loosened his right hand, letting the mad angel run to the end of the sea of ​​blood with his weapon. He sank into it, letting the corpses holding weapons drown him, without resistance, nor accepting the power of it.

"I refuse to be promoted. I have been defeated. Dying in this battle is the only thing I desire as a warrior. Even if I create another eight thousand massacres and take countless heads, it cannot compare to the honor and satisfaction that this battle brings me."

"I have defeated Sanguinius, the Blood God. I have defeated him spiritually, I have made him a prisoner of rage, I have left him without any noble claims, nothing to be proud of. But I have also lost, and I am willing to let this defeat bring my battle to an end."

How dare you—?!

Unspeakable terror surged from Kabanha's blood, and the contents contained in it were extremely complex. There was a furious killing intent born for his rebellious behavior, but there was also a harsh laughter that rewarded his courage.
Kabanha ignored any of them and just sank and sank, finally touching the deepest part of the sea of ​​blood, and then there was no sound.

In the waves of chaos, in the kingdom of the Blood God, a voice slowly resounded.

"Kabanha is dead."

He said, and then turned his gaze to other places of struggle, no longer paying any attention to the corpse of the demon. However, on the right armrest of His throne, there was an additional complex and indescribable symbol.

In the language of demons, that symbol can be used to refer to a name.

Cabanha.

(End of this chapter)