The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Seeing someone wavering, Sullivan immediately rushed over, grabbed the militiaman, who looked no more than twenty years old, like a chick. Panting, he held his power sword in front of the soldier's eyes and growled:

"I said, hold the line! You damned coward!"

In the style of a typical Space Marine, he would normally have just cut him down with a sword. But Sullivan knew the situation of these people. Many of them were just farmers operating agricultural machinery not long ago, or even serfs toiling 14 hours a day under the whips of the church overseers. It was difficult for them to take up arms against such terrifying enemies.

But there was no choice; it was for the survival of everyone.

"Don't forget, there are more than 300,000 civilians waiting to be evacuated behind us! They are our compatriots! Child, find your courage, look at me! Repeat after me! For those we cherish, we die with honor!"

The young militiaman looked at the blade in front of him and the blood-stained face of the Astartes, and nodded tremblingly.

"For... for those we cherish... we... die... with honor."

"Go and fight."

When Sullivan released him, the pale-faced militiaman scrambled back to his original position, grabbed the antiquated rifle, usually used for hunting, and began to fire.

Suddenly, he heard a sharp whistling sound. As soon as he turned his head, he saw a small, winged beast swooping down from the sky. The Space Marine bent over slightly to dodge the attack, then cleaved the disgusting monster almost in two with a single strike.

Acidic blood splattered all over the ground. The corpse landed, knocking over a pile of oil drums, and after a slight twitch, its body stiffened.

Sullivan looked at the sky. The cloud of countless gargoyles was getting closer and closer. The surrounding anti-aircraft fire was weakening; they wouldn't be able to hold out for much longer.

He turned to look further away, where the high-rise buildings and sloped flight decks of the spaceport stood. Several cargo ships were ready to depart, but they needed time to refuel. The fuel previously stored in the spaceport had been used up in the fighting. Now, this fuel had been obtained by twenty-odd warriors of the Third Company at the cost of their lives from a distant energy station, and all this was for the sake of evacuating the more than 300,000 refugees hiding in the spaceport.

"Come on, you bastards!"

He spat on the corpse.

"Even if I die, I'll knock out a couple of your teeth!"

At that moment, the ground suddenly shook. Sullivan was familiar with this vibration—it meant the big guys were coming.

As the buildings on both sides of the road were smashed to pieces, a huge beast emerged from the smoke. It was like a vicious and ugly shrew, trying to destroy everything in front of it with its cruel offspring. This creature had been specially noted by the Imperial authorities during the First Tyrannic War and named the 'Mawloc'.

This Mawloc, like its offspring, had a unique purple carapace with bright yellow spots.

The appearance of this behemoth caused the militiamen to cry out in panic. Sullivan shouted:

"Don't be afraid! It's a slow-witted beast! Hit it with all heavy firepower!"

The soldiers hurriedly threw grenades towards it, but their strength was clearly insufficient. Most of them only landed in the swarm of hormagaunts. Some people threw homemade Molotov cocktails, one of which landed accurately on the Mawloc's back. Flames instantly erupted, causing the beast to roar in anger.

It began to accelerate, even trampling the smaller creatures around it. Seeing this, Sullivan nodded to a warrior beside him, who immediately turned and picked up a detonator.

The next second, the ground exploded with a deafening roar. The rising debris was dozens of meters high. The force of the impact even shattered the Mawloc's internal organs. The monster screamed and fell to one side, deflating like a punctured balloon and crushing a group of hormagaunts that couldn't dodge in time.

With its death, a large number of hormagaunts it had spawned also died.

However, there was more than one. Soon, two more Mawlocs pushed aside the corpses of their kin and continued to advance.

Mortar shells whistled down, hitting them without causing any significant damage. Sullivan could only detonate the installed mines again.

In the continuous roar, the two Mawlocs also fell one after another, but they had absorbed enough firepower to allow the swarm to advance to a dangerous distance.

"Ah!"

A soldier screamed. A tiny creature appeared on his face and burrowed into his flesh, causing him to drop his gun and frantically scratch his face until it was covered in blood.

But finally, with a 'pop', his eyeball burst from its socket, and he collapsed to the ground. The horrific sight caused the surrounding militiamen to scream incessantly.

A group of termagants wielding 'rifles' appeared. They were almost identical to hormagaunts, except for the different weapon configuration: their claws had been replaced with a symbiotic bio-weapon—the fleshborer.

This weapon was less of a gun and more of a small nest, containing parasitic creatures symbiotic with the termagant: the fleshborer beetles. When the weapon fired, a fleshborer beetle would launch itself with its flea-like hind legs. Although it would exhaust its life energy in a few seconds, as long as it entered the enemy's body, it could cause astonishing damage.

Along with the hordes of termagants, large numbers of fleshborer beetles rained down on the human defenses, a terrifying sight for the militiamen who had almost no protection, and provoked screams.

"Don't be afraid! Pick up your weapons!"

Sullivan jumped to a high place, ignoring the fleshborer beetles that were hitting his armor. He struck his chest with his sword, the sound encouraging the surrounding militiamen and masking his own pain.

"The Emperor will never abandon you!"

He roared again:

"Neither this world, nor this spaceport!"

Just then, a shadow passed over his head. A gargoyle picked up a militiaman. The unfortunate man's voice quickly became shrill as the swarming winged beasts quickly tore his body apart. His blood and the remnants of his weapons were scattered into the defensive line.

Then the gargoyle turned and pounced on him. He slashed one down with his sword, but was knocked away by another.

While he was still dazed, the sound of bolters rang out, driving the gargoyles away.

"Captain!"

When the warriors pulled Sullivan up, he was still in a daze, his eyes bloodshot, his ears ringing with the sound of steel clashing against steel and the screams of the enemy.

Then he raised his sword, because he felt something heavy approaching. The streets trembled beneath their feet.

"Rally around me! Sons of Sanguinius!"

When he wiped away the red mist in front of his eyes, he saw those terrifying things and immediately roared:

"Damn it, it's the Carnifexes!"