The Astartes of the Crimson Angel Chapter held the passage to the bridge firmly, engaging in brutal firefights with the Chaos enemies pouring out of the bridge.
The scale of the battle here was nothing compared to the fighting among the mortals on the planet's surface, but its brutality far exceeded anything the mortals could imagine.
The Noise Marines who had come from within the ship to encircle them did not attack immediately. Instead, they quietly arranged themselves into a defensive formation and waited for their commander's orders.
At this moment, the Crimson Angel Chapter, already inside the encirclement, remained completely unaware of it, continuing to expose their backs to the Noise Marines.
Only when a Noise Marine who was somewhat taller than the others—far taller than an ordinary person—slowly stepped out from behind them and stood at the front did anything change.
His Power Armour had been twisted by the power of Chaos. All kinds of tentacle-like patterns writhed and coiled around one another across its surface.
The armour around his waist was especially bizarre, having transformed into some unknown shell-like substance. Most striking of all was the protruding opening in its very center.
"The person Lord of Pleasure ordered us to find is in this Chapter. All our painstaking efforts to lure them here have not been in vain." As he spoke, the Noise Marine turned to the others waiting beside him. "Lord of Pleasure has given us his scent. Do not kill him under any circumstances. Lord of Pleasure ordered that he be kept intact."
As he spoke, his mad and greedy gaze settled on the Astartes fighting ahead. "Attack!"
The order was issued in an instant. In the very next second, a concentrated barrage of fire killed dozens of Astartes from the Crimson Angel Chapter where they stood.
The sudden attack caught everyone in the Crimson Angel Chapter completely off guard. No one had expected so many Chaos Noise Marines to suddenly appear behind them.
At that moment, some of the warriors who had still been fighting without knowing what was happening finally realized that they had fallen into a trap—and that the intelligence they had received was gravely mistaken.
What had clearly been a training exercise had now become a trap.
Chapter Master Affos was already seriously wounded. Although he had regained consciousness, he was only forcing himself to hold on through the effects of the medication. If a fierce battle truly broke out, he might not even be as capable as a newly recruited Astartes.
Yet at this moment, he was completely consumed by despair, regret, and fury. Faulty intelligence, faulty judgment, faulty command—he had directly plunged the Chapter, which had only just begun showing signs of revival, into an overwhelming disadvantage.
After this battle, the Chapter would most likely be destroyed. Even if anyone managed to break through and survive, there would be very few of them. What could they do afterward? Wander from place to place, then perhaps join another Chapter if they were lucky. If not, they would drift beyond the galaxy and be hired by Rogue Traders, becoming little more than bodyguards.
He regretted it and raged, but his physical injuries left him able only to watch helplessly as the warriors who had fallen into the trap and been ambushed collapsed one after another.
Altrance in particular had hurried over after seeing that he had awakened, intending to drag him back behind a safe barricade.
He was clever and highly experienced. The cover provided by his boarding shield had protected him from many lethal attacks.
But now they were caught in a pincer attack.
A pink, fleshy, thorn-covered tentacle suddenly lashed out, tearing through his boarding shield and breastplate. He was sent flying backward, slammed into the wall, then slowly slid down into a seated position, utterly motionless. Blood trickled from his wounds, forming a pool in an instant.
He watched helplessly as the illuminated eyes on the helmet slowly went dark.
He could do nothing.
After this battle, Altrance was supposed to receive a service stud. One of the few traditions remaining in their Chapter was that every battle-brother's service stud was forged by his own hand, then blessed by the Chief Librarian.
That service stud was currently kept in his room.
"Altrance..."
Leonster watched this scene without saying a word. Only bloody tears flowed from the corners of his eyes, and his eyes became red and bloodshot.
Without a word, he picked up the Chainsword from the ground. Its damaged mechanism could no longer turn, but he charged once more at the Chaos Daemon who had just slapped the Chief Librarian, Asteris, away.
He did not know who this Daemon was, nor how powerful it was. But at this moment, he was consumed by fury. He wanted to tear everything before him to pieces.
Daemon Serindal, however, watched the tiny human charging toward him with amusement. He had not revealed his complete form. He had merely restored his body to its original size and exposed a few tentacles growing from his waist. (There was this movie starring Uncle Ying with an androgynous creature in it. You know—the long blue things with thorns. Those who know, know.)
That casual strike of his had just killed an Astartes, yet he had never expected it to provoke such an intense emotional outburst from this Astartes. It was simply the most exquisite delicacy.
And especially the Chapter Master who had previously been trapped in his illusion. The man's regret, fury, and all those negative emotions intoxicated him.
It was like an elegant nobleman tasting fine wine, becoming delighted by its refinement.
A tentacle swept out and wrapped around Leonster, slowly lifting him before Serindal. He gazed at the furious Astartes and his bloodshot, crimson eyes.
Serindal smiled faintly, then suddenly tightened the tentacle. The creaking sound of Power Armour breaking rang out. Leonster's furious, agonized roar echoed throughout the hall.
But in the next moment, a bolt of psychic lightning struck the tentacle, causing him to release it with a pained reaction. (Can you imagine what that feels like? If not, try taking the igniter from a lighter and shocking an erection with it.)
Annoyed, he turned his head and saw the Chief Librarian, now standing, charging over with a psychic power hammer in hand.
That hammer had been given to him during another mission against Daemons, personally presented by an Astartes wearing full grey Power Armour.
It had been a sign of their recognition of his bravery and ingenuity in battle.
In the distance, Vals saw Leonster lying on the ground with severe injuries and hurried over. He grabbed Leonster beneath the arms and dragged him back inside the defensive line, away from the center of the battlefield.
By then, the arm in which Vals had worn a prosthetic limb was empty. The prosthetic had been damaged during the fighting and had vanished somewhere in the chaos.
He strained to drag Leonster back. Once they reached the barricade, the Apothecary, who had just finished recovering the gene-seed, hurried over to treat him.
Leonster merely waved a hand and looked at Vals. "You all saw it just now. The Blood Angels gene expression. Heh heh heh. Compared with the others, I'm already one of the lucky ones. At the very end, I finally learned where I came from."
Vals said nothing. He snatched the medicine from the Apothecary and began treating and bandaging him.
"Brother, I know my own condition very well. My heart has already been crushed. The only thing keeping me going now is the medication." He turned his head toward the silent Apothecary beside him. "Extract my gene-seed." Then he relaxed completely and looked at Vals with a teasing smile. "If you get the chance, teach that true-born brat a lesson for me. Make sure he experiences... our... our traditional combat technique of sixty blows per second."
"Pretty much all of us already know, because your thirst for blood has been obvious for a long time. I even secretly brewed you a Bloody Mary in my room. It's absolutely suited to the Blood Angels' tastes. What you need to do now is accept treatment, then go to my room and drink your fill after the battle." Vals rambled on as though talking to himself, or perhaps answering and comforting Leonster. But by the end, his speech had become so rapid that no one could make out what he was saying, like a madman babbling incoherently.
Leonster said nothing. He only kept smiling.
"For the Emperor!"
Don't just read silently, everyone. If there's anything that needs improvement, say so quickly. That way I can revise it.
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