Raven Visit (IV)

Xianni's vision was almost entirely tinged with pure red, and it took him a while to make out where the enemy's face was. Everything around him was silent, except for the sound of his own rapidly pounding heartbeat.

Listening to them, Xianni slowly revealed a sinister smile. He stepped into the sandpit, his right foot sinking deep into it. The rough sand rubbed against his skin, causing a slight, burning sensation.

Xianni clenched his right fist and lunged forward, landing a punch on his opponent's left collarbone. A crisp sound rang out, but Xianni did not stop there.

He grabbed his right wrist with his left hand, and with a vicious downward slam, knocked his opponent face down into the sandpit.

Blood gushed out, and Xianni turned and left, completely too lazy to confirm whether his opponent's current unconsciousness was genuine. He had already confirmed it the moment his right elbow made intimate contact with his opponent's face.

"The victor is the First Company champion from Midnight Blade, Xianni of Terra!" the announcer shouted. "The score is now 2-2, a tie! Captain Nerat Raven Guard has been defeated. Who will take his place on the sandpit?!"

He really is a professional Xianni thought silently.

At this moment, blood was still flowing from the wound on his forehead, and from the wounds on his body. His opponent was not holding back; every punch was aimed at incapacitating him, and the strikes were aimed at extremely dangerous locations.

Fortunately, this wasn't the first time Xianni had dealt with this tactic, and he quickly retaliated with even more vicious methods. He won the fight, but it wasn't a clean victory.

He could see an obvious hostility on the faces of the Raven Guard sitting at the table, but Xianni didn't care. He even had the mind to grin at them one by one.

He spent a few minutes returning to the waiting room and wiping his wounds with a damp towel.

Van Cleef stood beside him with his arms crossed, his expression calm but his tone assertive. "Well played, Xianni. You've kept the score stable."

"It's only temporarily stabilized. You're celebrating too soon, Company Commander." Xianni calmly shook his head, showing no joy whatsoever. "The four veteran duels have already served as appetizers."

He said no more. Van Cleef, however, frowned. "Do you really think our new blood is weaker than the Nineteenth Legion?"

"Actually, quite the opposite, Company Commander." Xianni shrugged. "Everyone knows what the Nineteenth Legion did before their Primarch returned, and I don't think their recruits would get any good training under those circumstances. To put it bluntly—"

He took the towel off his forehead, tossed it aside, and picked up a new one. "--I'm actually more worried about our cousins; constantly losing will probably make the banquet atmosphere quite awkward."

"Don't you find the atmosphere awkward right now?" Mollez had also gone up for a fight but unfortunately lost, snorted. "Your fight with that Captain Nerath was like two dogs tearing each other apart."

Xianni laughed, wrapped a towel around the lower half of his face, winked at Mollez, and asked in a deliberately deep voice, "So, did I win, dear adjutant?"

Mollez gave him a cold smile, "Why don't you just bark like a dog, Xianni?"

Van Cleef ignored their routines, pondered for a moment, and uttered a name that surprised both Mollez and Xianni.

"Let Jago Sevatarion go."

"Let him go?" Xianni winked dramatically. "You really are deliberately trying to reverse our relationship with the Nineteenth Legion."

"Yes, the Raven Guard must be very happy to see their recruits fall one by one," Mollez chuckled. "The Primarch will probably give us praising looks afterward too; it's something to look forward to."

"You two will be stationed in the wilderness next week," Van Cleef said coldly. "This is punishment, there's no room for leniency. This isn't a rotation system; he's only going to fight one match. It's better to get him out there and done that than to keep him out of the game, or put him in last."

After saying that, he turned and left, leaving Xianni and Mollez looking at each other in bewilderment.

--

Why is it me again?

Jago Sevatarion really wanted to ask that question, but he didn't.

Company Commander Van Cleef had already shown him enough leniency; simply turning a deaf ear to the report was enough for Sevatar to be grateful.

Therefore, he didn't ask the rigid company commander any more questions, but simply followed behind him silently, while starting to unbutton his clothes little by little, feeling quite depressed.

If he had known he would be performing, he wouldn't have endured Shen's ridicule to borrow a suit today. Now, the suit is useless, and he got ridiculed for nothing.

Minutes later, they passed through numerous long tables and arrived at a spacious room lit by burning candles.

Several weapon racks were placed in the most conspicuous spot, crammed full of various unsharpened training weapons. The oiled Servitor stood in a corner of the room, silently waiting. At the far end of the room was a large, dark door that connected directly to the dueling pit.

Sevatar silently followed the company commander in, and unsurprisingly, was attacked by Xianni there.

"You're going on stage, kid." The Terra jumped out of the darkness, greeting her affectionately. He grabbed Sevatar's neck roughly, with tremendous force.

"You're going to go on stage, understand? You're going to represent us in a battle against two legions. How does that feel?"

Sevatar broke free from his grasp and began to neatly remove her dress, her expression completely blank. "I feel nothing."

"Really?" Xianni looked at him suspiciously, raising his right fist threateningly. "You're really not lying?"

"I want to go back to eating dried eel." Sevatar sighed. "Believe it or not, who's my opponent, Company Commander Van Cleef?"

"Alastor Rorschach," Van Cleef said calmly. "Like you, he hasn't been in the army long, but his record is outstanding. He's already a sergeant."

"Oh? Really?" Xianni jumped out again, sounding doubtful.

Van Cleef didn't even look at him and continued explaining.

"Don't listen to anything he says. Xianni will tell you that the Nineteenth Legion served under Luna Wolves and Lord Horus until their Primarch returned, so the recruits had very limited growth. But that's not the truth."

"Oh, right." Xianni suddenly laughed. "The truth is, Lord Horus sent them to do all sorts of dirty and tiring jobs that nobody wanted to do, as well as the most dangerous places with the highest casualty rates. If any recruits could survive under such circumstances..."

He winked meaningfully at Sevatar: "You understand, right?"

"Watch your words, Xianni." Van Cleef finally looked at him seriously. "Don't try to impose your opinions of the Primarch on Sevatarion; he's still young."

"I wasn't making any judgments, Company Commander." Xianni shrugged. "We all know that most Primarch are actually a bunch of mute megalomaniacs, with only a few normal people. Our father was far better than them."

"I agree with your last statement," said Mollez, who was standing behind him.

"You've finally spoken to me like a human being, Lieutenant," Xianni laughed.

I agree, Sevatar thought silently.

Ten minutes later, a loud bang echoed throughout the "banquet hall," and the dark doors slowly opened, Sevatar silently emerging from the passageway behind them.

A cacophony of noise erupted, and the harsh white light shone down on his shoulders, making his oiled body and chainsaw gleam. Sevatar gently moved his arms, loosening the constriction of his training breastplate slightly.

He slowly raised his head and looked up at the platform above. Konrad Curze Curze and Kolaus Corax sat there, the two strikingly similar, like brothers. Equally pale, equally dark-skinned, the only difference being their expressions.

The Night Lords wore a perfectly measured smile, the meaning of which was impossible for an ordinary person to discern—whether it was mockery or a greeting. The Lord of Raven Guard, however, was completely devoid of emotion; his face remained expressionless, revealing no trace of feeling.

Sevatar looked up for almost a minute and found that Corax hadn't even blinked. The Primarch Guard, totaling two hundred men, stood quietly behind them, with midnight blue and black and white standing on either side in stark contrast.

Strangely, Karyl Lohars was not on this platform.

Sevatar took a deep breath, raised his right hand, and tapped his breastplate. He knew his Primarch was watching him, and sure enough, Konrad Curze Curze nodded slightly and smiled.

The smile was gentle, but Sevatar suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. To conceal this emotion, he casually plunged the end of his chainsaw into the sand pit—after all, he was in front of the Techmarine, so he had to be a little more restrained.

His opponent stood about twenty paces away, holding a training sword, with short black hair and a sharp gaze fixed on Sevatar.

The sergeant from the First Company, who didn't want to report on it, shook his head helplessly and decided to respond with the same attitude—it's not like I'm the one who knocked your captain into the sandpit and made him unable to get up for a long time, so why are you glaring at me like that?

However, as Alastor Sevatar pondered the name, observing the pale skin and dark eyes, he suddenly felt an urge to smile.

Moreover, he did far more than just "smile".

"Has anyone ever said you look like Nostramo?" Sevatar asked bluntly.

"Has anyone ever said you look like me?" Alastor Rorschach retorted coldly. "Don't give me that, Midnight Blade. You can't mess with me."

"Oh"

Sevatar smiled, drew his chainsaw, and activated it.

"You seem to have quite a sharp tongue, cousin," Sevatar said affectionately. "That makes me want to try and make your tongue bleed a little."

"Then come on, Nostramo man." Alastor Rorschach smiled slowly. "Sigismund of the Imperial Fists has praised you as extraordinary; you won't disappoint him, will you?"

Sevatar stopped laughing.

Update complete.

Alastor Rorschach was a traitor to the Raven Guard; he defected to the Night Lords and even joined the Nightbat Council in the HH canon. As for Sharrowkyn, I'd love to write about him, but he's probably still a child. The Raven of Death was born in the "Deliverance," so according to the book's timeline, he's not even a year old this year.