The Slaughterhouse

The transport ship was eerily silent.

Fu Qinghai wasn't the only one who sensed that something was wrong. Gult, who was leading the way, felt it too.

He deliberately slowed his pace.

The Space Marines carefully searched the dim corridors, weapons of all kinds in hand.

Fu Qinghai couldn't help wondering: what exactly were the Word Bearers transporting on this ship?

Guns and artillery? Ammunition? Or armor?

The transport ship's internal schematics and other combat information had already been projected onto the Space Marines' visors.

This was a standard Imperial transport ship, built to a common design. Its internal schematics were uniform.

In theory, as long as they followed the arrows on their visors, the Stinger Squad could find their target—the engine control room.

Unlike a Lunar-class Cruiser, which had several power control halls, the Abominable Worm was only slightly smaller, yet had just three engine control rooms. Destroying any two of them would make it impossible for the transport ship to reach space again.

But things never went according to plan.

The Stinger Squad was blocked by a wall.

The Word Bearers had not only decorated the transport ship's exterior in a chaotic fashion; they had also made drastic alterations to its interior.

According to the combat information, this was supposed to be a corridor. After turning three corners, they would reach the engine control room.

"Blast through it," Gult decided.

The makeshift bulkhead couldn't possibly be as thick as the ship's hull, and Gult had no intention of taking a detour.

Several Ultramarines were securing high-explosive charges to the steel bulkhead, which was covered in blasphemous paintings.

This little task didn't require Techmarine Fu Qinghai's help. He looked up, curious to see what the traitors had painted on the bulkhead.

At the very top was the symbol "Ⅷ."

Below it, the wall was covered in dense lines of incantations. Fu Qinghai read along, understanding little of it. Only a few words seemed to be written in High Gothic.

Like the other Reincarnators, Fu Qinghai had been given the ability to speak High Gothic when he entered the Warhammer 40K universe.

He stared at those few words, silently repeating them in his mind:

Praise... the great... brass... the Brass Lord?

Fu Qinghai shuddered, suddenly realizing what it meant.

"Ⅷ" was the Roman numeral for eight.

The one called the Brass Lord, whose sacred number was eight... Khorne!

The bulkhead was covered in prayers to Khorne, one of the Four Chaos Gods!

Fu Qinghai didn't want to count whether the words in the prayer were exactly a multiple of eight. He had a very bad feeling—

What was behind this bulkhead?

"Fall back! Prepare to detonate!" Gult shouted.

Fu Qinghai didn't know whether he should stop Gult. They were aboard a Chaos Space Marine transport ship. It was only natural to find writing devoted to Khorne—or any of the Chaos Gods.

He couldn't exactly say he'd been frightened by a wall.

Fu Qinghai fell back with the Ultramarines to a safe distance.

BOOM—

The charges detonated.

Before the flames and smoke from the blast had cleared, the Stinger Squad followed Gult and charged through.

Gult, who was at the front with his Chainsword in hand, nearly stepped into empty space after bursting through the smoke. Fortunately, Fu Qinghai behind him grabbed his shoulder in time.

But Gult had no time to turn and thank him. He stared at the sight before them, aghast.

Fu Qinghai stepped around a Marine to get a better look, and was stunned as well.

What kind of hellish scene was this?

Behind the breached bulkhead, the Word Bearers had converted the space into a vast, complicated slaughterhouse.

Countless naked humans had been placed on a slaughtering production line. They were already dead, yet their bodies were still fed through spinning blades, sliced into pieces, and dropped into the gears of a grinder slowly turning inward, where they were crushed into pulp.

Blood trickled through gaps in the machinery, spilling out of the grinder and dripping from the sharp blades.

It fell onto the floor, then flowed along the complex, arcane grooves cut into it, gathering into streams of blood that burbled onward.

"They're all Psykers," Gult said gravely.

His words snapped Fu Qinghai out of the horrific scene. He turned to look at him.

Gult pointed at one of the corpses. "Look. There's still an eye on his forehead."

Fu Qinghai followed Gult's finger and looked closely. Sure enough, the corpse belonged to someone from one of the Navigator Houses.

Every one of the corpses showed some degree of physical mutation.

So the "supplies" the Word Bearers were transporting... were living people.

Fu Qinghai understood.

During the Horus Heresy, the traitors had used Warp Storms to disrupt the Imperium's transport and communications. They had also gradually begun experimenting with bringing the power of the Warp directly into Realspace to aid them.

By slaughtering civilians on a massive scale and using dark sorcery left over from an ancient, primitive technological age, the Word Bearers had achieved their goal through a series of complex sacrificial rituals. They were also the first Legion to summon Warp Daemons into Realspace during the Horus Heresy.

Compared to ordinary humans, Psykers, who were naturally able to commune with the Warp, made better offerings. Fewer of them were needed to complete a sacrifice.

Otherwise, the traitors might have had to slaughter an entire city just to summon a common Khorne Daemon, a Bloodletter.

The grooves on the floor formed a complex pattern, all converging toward a single point.

This was a precisely functioning blood altar, made up of gears, drive shafts, runes, and evil rituals.

Fu Qinghai looked up, gazing past the rows of slaughtering machinery toward the place where the blood flowed.

His visor automatically zoomed in and focused.

At the point where the blood converged, Fu Qinghai saw a Word Bearers Space Marine chained to the wall, fixed inside a human-shaped recess.

The wall around the recess was covered in twisted, evil reliefs and totems: fangs, spikes, and skulls. Two U-shaped demonic horns framed the head of the human-shaped hollow.

The two recesses beside it were already empty.

Fu Qinghai stared at the scene and shouted, "This is an altar! They're making a sacrifice. They're trying to summon... Possessed Marines!"

"No... We are called the Blessed Sons!"

A sinister voice sounded nearby.

Fu Qinghai immediately turned and swung his blade toward it.

CLANG!

A sharp metallic crack rang out, sparks flying.

Fu Qinghai's Power Glaive was clamped in a huge pincer like a crab's claw.

He yanked his weapon free and backed away.

"Hold formation! Open fire!" Gult roared from nearby.

The monster that had appeared at the side of the corridor raised its enormous crablike pincer to block the incoming bolts, then charged at the Stinger Squad.

It was a terrifying-looking Chaos Space Marine. Two curved horns had pierced through its helmet and grown from either side of its head. Under the unreal power of the Warp, its Power Armor had twisted and fused with the swollen, proliferating red flesh beneath it.

Countless bone-white spikes had sprouted from its armor and the vents of its jump pack. The wedge-shaped grille of its faceplate had warped into a maw lined with sharp teeth, and a forked, purplish-black tongue flicked from within.

One arm had become a huge, elongated red claw. The other had transformed into a crab's pincer, covered in serrations and spikes.

The Possessed Marine showed no fear of being outnumbered. It swung its claw and charged straight into the Stinger Squad's formation.

Mass-reactive Bolter Shells only inflicted minor damage, while the Possessed Marine's elongated claw had already plunged into a weak point in an Ultramarine's neck guard.

Fu Qinghai ducked under the swinging pincer and slashed diagonally, cutting off both of the Possessed Marine's red claws.

"Use melee weapons!" Fu Qinghai shouted.

The Ultramarines threw aside their boltguns and drew their Chainswords and Power Swords.

The buzz of rapidly spinning teeth filled the air. The Ultramarines of the Stinger Squad formed a tightly coordinated melee formation and closed in around the Possessed Marine.

"Ugh... urgh... hhh... hhh..."

A low, indescribable growl rose from deep in its throat.

Another Possessed Marine appeared at the corridor entrance, its whole body convulsing as it staggered forward.

Another one!?

Fu Qinghai cursed inwardly, twisted away from his fight with the first Possessed Marine, and charged toward the second.

"I'll handle that one!" Fu Qinghai shouted.

He knew the tactically skilled Ultramarines must have their own melee formations. Forcing his way into their ranks would only disrupt the Stinger Squad's close coordination. It was better to hold one enemy off on his own.

He wouldn't dare claim he could kill it. He could only try to hold it back!

The second Possessed Marine at the corridor entrance didn't seem to have fully merged with the daemon inside it yet. Its neck twisted at an absurd angle, first to the left, then to the right, as it stood there trembling and convulsing.

This was his chance!

Fu Qinghai charged straight at it. He had no gentlemanly inclination to wait for his enemy to finish transforming before starting the fight.

Gripping his blade with both hands, Fu Qinghai thrust its tip straight at the creature's head.

Take this... CLANG!

Two twisted, ugly, bony claws crossed in an X beneath the blade and stopped it.

"Hhh... Blood God..." The Possessed Marine lifted its head. Scarlet light flared from its bulging visor, and it let out a low growl through its mouth, filled with protruding fangs.

Fu Qinghai pulled back and resumed his stance.

The Possessed Marine before him didn't seem capable of speaking normally yet. It could only wheeze "hhh... hhh..." and repeat a few simple words.

But there was nothing clumsy about the way it attacked.

It bent its knees, sprang forward, and lunged through the air at Fu Qinghai with both claws spread wide.

Fu Qinghai had never seen such a wide-open style of fighting. He even froze for 0.01 seconds.

He quickly dodged sideways. As the Possessed Marine rushed past, he reversed his grip and swept his blade along in a rising slash.

A streak of blood spattered from a gap in the Possessed Marine's waist armor.

The Possessed Marine slammed into the floor, turned around, and charged at Fu Qinghai again.

As Fu Qinghai hurriedly parried, he saw the wound at its waist. Pale-red growths wriggled like tiny buds of flesh, and the wound was already nearly healed.

No wonder this thing fought with such reckless abandon, trading wounds without a care.

Its regenerative abilities were even better than a Space Marine's clotting agents. How was he supposed to fight it?

Fu Qinghai knocked aside the creature's claw and quickly recalled what he knew about Possessed Marines.

A barrier lay between the Warp and Realspace. It could also be called the Veil. Warp entities had difficulty crossing it to affect the real universe, so the Word Bearers had found these daemons a vessel to inhabit: a Space Marine willing to offer himself to the Chaos Gods.

In other words, at least during combat, the body was controlled by a Warp Daemon, not by the Space Marine himself.

Fu Qinghai had a rough idea. He couldn't gradually weaken the enemy by stacking one wound on top of another. The reality-warping energy of the Warp granted it astonishing powers of regeneration. His attacks had to target its brain or heart and kill it in a single blow, shattering the vessel that contained the daemon's soul.

But it was so difficult to withstand the Possessed Marine's attacks alone. On top of its absurd ability to heal minor wounds, it was stronger and faster than him, and it felt no pain, fighting only to kill.

Driven back step by step, Fu Qinghai's magnetic boots thudded heavily against the corridor floor. He still couldn't find a chance to land a killing blow.

He wielded a single blade against two claws. Even swinging his Power Glaive in a tight, impenetrable defense, he couldn't make it flawless or escape unscathed.

He cut off a curved horn that had grown from the side of the Possessed Marine's face. He'd been so close—just a little more, and he would have split its head open.

The price was a rake of the Possessed Marine's claw across his breastplate.

A large section of Plasteel armor plating was torn away by the bony claw, but the layered, composite Power Armor shielded Fu Qinghai from the blow.

Power Armor's outer shell was made of layered Ceramite and Plasteel armor. Like a Chainsword's teeth, it was a battlefield consumable. But with the speed at which the Possessed Marine struck with both claws, even the toughest consumable couldn't withstand the wear.

Two more heavy blows, and Fu Qinghai's armor would be torn open.

Fighting as he retreated, Fu Qinghai gradually drew farther and farther from the Stinger Squad. After passing a corner, he was out of their sight.

The Possessed Marine sprang up from the floor again, swinging its huge claw down at Fu Qinghai's head.

Fu Qinghai raised his blade to block.

The bony claw slammed down on the Power Glaive. Its blade, sheathed in a blue Power Field, sank deep into the creature's palm.

A tremendous force traveled down Fu Qinghai's arms and through his body to his feet.

At that very instant, the rusted corridor floor shattered beneath the pressure with a CRACK!

Fu Qinghai and the Possessed Marine both went weightless and plunged through the floor into the space below.

Now!

The sudden weightlessness did not distract Fu Qinghai.

He had found the chance for the one-hit kill he'd been longing for!