24. Return Journey to the City (III)

Gravity surged, crashing against the walls. The steel trembled, its surface marked with numerous crimson streaks resembling burning. Gravity tore at the flesh, which remained securely within the armor—and then, it struck.

A violent impact.

The ground trembled, steam gushed out from the heat dissipation holes that had been pre-installed on the outside of the Boarding Torpedo, and high temperatures dissipated, accompanied by air that felt like it was burning. Karyl slowly emerged from them.

This was his first time boarding with the Night Lords, and frankly, there wasn't anything particularly memorable about it. There would be plenty more days like this in the future; Karyl could practically see his entire future life ahead of him.

Correcting official documents and killing are essentially the same thing; they are nothing more than repetitive labor and the torment of people. He walked steadily into the corridor, the hem of his cloak dragging across the burning ground.

It greedily licked the human blood clean, while leaving the Orks's blood untouched. Karyl glanced at it, gave a brief warning, and then ignored it.

He had already influenced the essence of the armor, and some changes that were not easily perceived by humans were slowly emerging on it. He walked through the narrow corridor riddled with bullet holes and arrived at the spot where the First Company's Boarding Torpedo had hit.

A burning deck.

Here, a bloody battle has begun.

Van Cleef wasn't there; his lieutenant, Mollez Xianni, was also present, though it was difficult to spot him. The unarmed combat champion wielded his power claw, wreaking havoc amidst a swarm of green Orks.

Karyl stood silently by the door, watching everything unfold, with no intention of interfering.

He surveyed the battlefield, silently evaluating the Night Lords' performance. Some had charged too far ahead, while others fought with the savagery of animals.

The man would slash open his wound with his sword, then tear it apart with his fingers. This method of fighting was obviously impractical; it might be highly effective against human enemies, but they were facing Orks.

Moreover, they weren't just a simple group of Orks.

Karyl narrowed his eyes. The empty eye sockets on the skeletal face remained unchanged, yet every detail was clearly visible.

He discovered that although these Orks were poorly equipped, with armor that looked like simply welded steel plates, they possessed a strange and inexplicable fighting prowess.

The Night Lords' tactic was to surround them and slowly whittle them down, but the Orks actually started back-to-back, providing cover for each other, just three minutes into the tactic.

The battle formations are rudimentary, and the fighting style is even closer to a kind of innate savagery, but it's very effective.

And they weren't noisy at all, really. There were no shouts or screams, no anxious whimpers after a companion fell—which had nothing to do with the "stupidity and savagery" described in the Nightfall's documents.

The most crucial point is...

Karyl tilted his head slightly, dodging a barrage of bullets fired at him. An Orks in the midst of the battle glared at him, his ugly, fanged mouth gaping open, grinning menacingly.

Okay. Quite perceptive.

The skeleton lowered its head, seemingly sighing. The cloaked figure behind it stood up, and its Shadow shot out excitedly, grabbing the Orks's right hand and left leg. Before the orc could even change its expression, it was torn in two by the cloak and flung into the air.

Blood rained down from the sky, followed immediately by howls that sounded like a mixture of anger and shock. A barrage of gunfire poured into the spot where Karyl had been standing, but he was no longer there.

Lieutenant Mollez roared, but the Night Lords didn't let the opportunity pass. Boltgun rained down fire, severely punishing their momentary lapse in concentration. The battle was torn apart, and the brutes clad in midnight armor immediately filed in.

Two minutes later, the battle ended.

"Over two hundred on just one deck," Karyl said in a low voice, leaning against the wall. "That's an astonishing number."

"Instructor." Mollez approached him, his armor stained with the stench of blood. "These Orks are different from the ones we've encountered before."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. They would never have possessed such calmness and acumen in the past. These Xenos have always been reckless madmen, regardless of the situation. They are always in complete chaos, and many are even trampled to death by themselves before they even engage the enemy. Their only tactic is to charge, a swarm charge."

"I know very little about Orks; the few bits and pieces I have come from books. As things stand, books are probably of little use—so, do you have any suggestions, Mollez?"

"I think we'd better rendezvous with the company commander first," the adjutant of the First Company replied calmly. "The Orks have already taken control of half of this Conqueror-class cruiser; the company commander and his men must be locked in a fierce battle."

"It seems that a dispersed attack was indeed too risky." Karyl shook his head. "Let's do as you say. Also, Sergeant Ogs, stop tearing the Orks' throats with your left hand; you might as well just behead them."

Night Lords, whose name was called, nodded silently, and after a long pause, replied, "Old habits die hard."

Use it as needed.

Karyl left those words behind and disappeared back into the darkness before their eyes. A dozen seconds later, Xianni's voice came through the communication channel. "Don't you guys think the instructors have been getting increasingly casual lately?"

"What do you mean?" the adjutant asked sternly. "Shut your mouth, Xianni."

"Is being an adjutant something to be proud of?"

"If you want to extend the three-month ban to four months, then I don't mind if you continue."

Silence returned to the channel.

--

Van Cleef calmly placed his hands on an Orks's head, doing so carefully yet skillfully.

The thing roared at him, spitting out saliva that dripped stickily down the company commander's goggles, but Van Cleef didn't get angry.

He swiftly inserted his thumb into the Orks's eye socket, gouging out the eye in a few strokes. Then, he clenched his fist and began to beat the Xenos's eye socket.

The fist quickly shattered the bone, Van Cleef effortlessly reached in and pulled out the Orks's head.

The soft, slippery texture was blocked by the metal, but the heat and weight were not. They were sliding down between his fingers. Van Cleef finally showed a hint of disgust; he shook his hand and tossed the brain tissue aside. It hit the floor with a soft thud.

The battle was over, but he didn't get a break. He bent down, picked up the Boltgun he had dropped earlier, turned around, and began firing repeatedly at the other end of the corridor.

He was very accurate; those scum who tried to ambush him were immediately smashed in the head or hit in the torso.

The foul-smelling blood splattered out, scattering across the ground. It seeped into the cracks of the rough metal surface. Van Cleef didn't know where it would go, but he didn't care.

Since "waking up," his mind has become increasingly prone to this high-speed operation, with everything slowing down, just waiting for him to reach out and touch it. Is this a good thing? The company commander didn't know, but, as the saying goes...

He didn't really care.

Several linking runes flashed on his retina—this Conqueror-class cruiser was under the command of the First Company, and they had not chosen to fight all in one place.

One group was at the stern, the other at the bow, while Van Cleef led another elite force outwards, heading in both directions. They dispersed and resumed their old ways.

Solo hunting in the dark is an almost instinctive skill for every Midnight Blade; they were already accustomed to this tactic before they changed their names, and now they have only become more proficient. However, Van Cleef himself did not expect to be able to do it so well.

He couldn't help but start thinking. In the past, when the modification surgery was completed, the fear in his genes was removed. This physiological reaction could no longer affect him, but now, he didn't even feel the most basic excitement in battle.

Although adrenaline was still burning, it had become something akin to an actively injected drug, which he could control at will.

In other words, he can control himself and unleash his power at the necessary moments.

The company commander sighed softly, wondering if he was still of pure blood. He casually slung his Boltgun back onto his belt. His hearing was excellent; the sound of a corpse hitting the ground from the other end of the corridor was crystal clear to him.

In the past, he would have gone to check if they were all really dead, but now there was no need. Hunting tactics are all about efficiency; sometimes, killing is more useful than severely wounding.

He ran forward, disappearing into the darkness once more, the Chainsword already in his hand. He closed his fingers first, then moved them upwards, finally finishing with his index finger.

Its name was "Dark Night," the High Gothic gleaming on the gauntlet, unstained by blood. Following the linking runes displayed on the goggles, Van Cleef quickly found his brother and their instructor, Karyl Lohars, in the unlit corridor.

"Ah, you've come, Van Cleef." The skeleton nodded slightly to him. "I was wondering how long you were going to keep killing."

Are you watching my fight?

"I've basically watched everyone's fight," the skeleton said. "You know, it's easy to move around in the dark."

"Don't you think it's a little too convenient?" Van Cleef sheathed his Chainsword, his voice becoming somewhat strange. "At least you used to do some pretense."

"No need now." The skeleton laughed merrily, its voice distorted, almost a sneer. "Instead of wasting time on that, I'd rather revise a few more official documents. Have you and Mollez communicated?"

"He already said so." Van Cleef nodded. "Reunite, I understand."

"Well then—" The skeleton turned its head, looking towards the dark end of the corridor, "I'll go find the captain of this ship first."

One more chapter to come.

In short, don't buy starry sky products.