39: Blood of Calth (XI)

004. M31, Calth Ground, Hell. ♣☝ 🎀♦

Sevatar watched coldly as the last Blessed Sons died.

He looked like a monster, his face was not human, and you could hardly see any human features. Angron Tei beheaded him with a Chainsword, and he was still alive—or rather, he didn't die quickly enough.

A vast ocean from the dark world surged within his body, granting him a powerful life force that allowed him to regenerate severed limbs and extend his life even after being beheaded.

He can even speak.

The forest was no longer what it once was. Flames littered the ground, and the charred remains from lightning emitted a pungent stench. The rain poured down relentlessly, with raindrops heavier than bullets falling endlessly on their heads.

If you look up, you can see an extremely intense light, which is one of the pieces of evidence that the sun in Calth is splitting apart. Soon, the earth's surface will be completely filled with deadly radiation.

No one could survive such radiation levels unless they went underground; otherwise, death was the only outcome. Amidst this apocalyptic scene, the voice of the Blessed Sons rang out.

"This is not the end," he said, staring at Angron Tey. "This is just the beginning, brother, this is just the beginning. You are still Deceit by lies, but you will soon see the truth. The Emperor is a fraud; nothing he claims to be true is true."

The Aurelian's Sons, holding a blood-stained Chainsword, stared at him until he breathed his last, without uttering a word. He gave the Blessed Sons nothing but contempt and hatred.

The monster's corpse turned into black sludge, hissing in the rain before being washed away, leaving only pale, broken bones. Only upon seeing this did Angron Tai turn around and extend his left hand to Sevatar.

"No, thank you," said Sevatar.

"Why? Are you going to die?"

"Not really, I just don't want to get up for the time being." Sevatar uttered these words slowly, and then more.

He spoke very slowly, like those bureaucrats from Terra who deliberately slowed their speech to ensure they appeared more authoritative. And Angron Tai knew that this was not his intention.

"Let me sit quietly for a while, huh? Cousin?"

Angron Tei stared silently at the pale face. Rain streamed down, washing away the blood from the face, but an inextinguishable Blue Radiance still surged deep within the dark pupils.

He nodded to him, then sat down himself and began to check whether the Chainsword blade could still hold up in the next battle.

The sky was filled with crackling sounds. As the sun began its transformation from a star, large swaths of unnatural, hazy light pierced through the broken clouds, creating a magnificent spectacle. Sevatar looked up at this sight and suddenly smiled.

Without even looking up, Angron asked, "I thought you said you wanted some quiet time."

"I've changed my mind," Sevatar said. "How many of us are left?"

"I don't know. If you want to know, issue the order yourself," Angron Te said.

His right hand was resting on the edge of the saw blades, tapping lightly in his hope of identifying any factors that might cause the saw to break.

"What? Don't you want to know?"

"Numbers are meaningless." Angron Tai raised his head, his gaze extremely serious. "The enemy is everywhere anyway; all we have to do is fight."

Sevatar nodded knowingly. "So you've already made up your mind to die?"

No, why do you say that?

"Because only commanders who don't believe they can win would say such a thing," Sevatar grinned and slowly stood up.

Fragments of his armor slid off his body with each movement. He glanced down at them, then punched his own breastplate a few times. With each blow, it gradually deformed, turning into a twisted shape.

Angron Tai looked at him and shook his head. "You'll need to replace at least four parts to ensure this Power Armour will be effective in the upcoming battles."

"Aren't you the same?" Sevatar looked at him with a hint of sarcasm. "Who cut half of your left shoulder armor? And who tore apart the armor on your right leg?"

"They're all dead," Angron Te said calmly. "Toradro, Grak Vikas, Ultnit."

"Do you know them?"

Angron Tei smiled, and though it was only for a moment, Sevatar caught it. "They were all my brothers, Jago Sevatarion."

He slowly stood up, raised his foot, and crushed the already small pile of bones.

"But they are now merely traitors," the Aurelian's Sons said softly. "They are the offspring who could not protect the Primarch, cowards who broke their oaths, fools Deceit by lies. Now, they may be my enemies, my adversaries, but they may never be my brothers."

"That's a very insightful quote. May I use it?"

"That's possible, but where do you plan to use it?"

"I don't know." Sevatar shrugged. "Before I die, I guess? If I'm killed by the Word Bearers, I'll relay your words before I die."

Angron Tai cast a disapproving glance, stood up, and began to gather his troops, count the number of men, and search for the wounded.

Their initial count was 623 people: 366 Night Lords and 257 Aurelian's Sons. After some time, these numbers increased to 392 and 281 respectively, totaling 673 people. All of them sustained minor injuries, with no one seriously injured.

No one survived the onslaught of the Word Bearers.

Meanwhile, a portion of the Imperial Army survived—forty-two people. It's worth noting that the technician was among them. She was fortunate enough to survive without serious injury.

Honestly, repeating the name of Omnissiah endlessly like a broken radio and reciting numbers isn't a big deal, right?

"Then, let's go underground," Sevatar said. "Hopefully, the Ultramarines still like to have backup plans, just like I remember them."

Angron Tey did not answer, but focused intently on striking his Chainsword. They ventured deeper into the forest, battered by the torrential rain.

--

004. M31, Calth Orbit, Macragge's Honour.

"Advance northeast, Toro."

Roboute Guilliman stood with his back to everyone at the very front of the auxiliary bridge, holding a communications device, and narrated the following. He faced the dying sun of Calth, his free left hand resting on the edge of a porthole.

"I repeat, advance northeast, and be sure to reach Leptis Numinus. You have assembled ten companies of the Ninth Chapter, which will be great news for the defenders there."

"I understand, Primarch," replied Toro Nichodmus, one of the Four Invictarii of Ultramar, in a hoarse, electrical signal. Roboute Guilliman was pleased to hear his voice again and to learn that he was fighting behind the lines in Erud Province.

His support will further stabilize the defenses of Leptis Numinus and the surrounding plains, allowing the temporary communication network built on three watchtowers on the Leptis Numinus plains to operate for a longer period.

As long as it can remain operational for even one more second, Roboute Guilliman will be able to directly command the remaining forces on the surface of Calth.

"We're departing immediately, Primarch," Toro Nichodmus said. "Also, what's the situation on orbit?"

"Not good," Roboute Guilliman said, squinting. "I won't lie to you, but the engines of the Macragge's Honour have only just been restarted. Our fleet is being torn apart by the Word Bearers, and we can't spare the resources to support the ground for the time being."

"Understood, Primarch." Toro Nichodmus hung up the communication, as always.

Roboute Guilliman lowered his head and began operating the instrument himself. After patiently waiting for sixteen minutes, he successfully contacted Echoes Rayamid, also one of the Four Invictarii.

Roboute Guilliman had spoken to him not long ago, so this time he went straight to the point.

"Prepare to march towards Leptis Numinus, Ekos. We will use that as a base to gradually rebuild Calth's ground communications. The watchtower will ensure that there is always a bridge between us."

"Also, there's a Solar Auxilia fighting near you at Desert Outpost No. 72, about 26 kilometers to the southeast. Support them, then head with them to Leptis Numinus."

"Understood, Primarch." A heavy breathing came from Aikos Rayamidis's end. Even from such a distance, even with the electromagnetic signal almost dissecting his voice, Roboute Guilliman could hear it.

He understood that Ekos was injured.

But who doesn't have that?

He coldly hung up the communication and began connecting with the next person he was commanding. He started doing what he did best, and the war was moving toward the multi-front operation familiar to Roboute Guilliman, which made him feel no relief whatsoever.

He didn't even crave "victory," because he knew in his heart that the Seventeenth Legion had already won the Battle of Calth.

Whatever they wanted to do, they have already succeeded.

Perhaps their only failure was that they couldn't kill Roboute Guilliman.

They failed to kill him.

This will become a lifelong nightmare for them.

Roboute Guilliman clenched his left fist.

Over the next three hours, he began to rebuild the command network, with high-ranking officers and staff crew working behind the scenes to map the Primarch's orders to the temporarily altered map of Calth.

Few could keep up with Roboute Guilliman's pace of thought, making the task incredibly arduous. Meanwhile, the acrid smell of burning corpses began to spread across the bridge.

The bodies of the loyalists were being burned, as were the traces left by the Daemon. Roboute Guilliman smelled the stench, but he remained unmoved.

He pressed his finger, changed the signal, and entered a call with Marius Gage through a pre-arranged connection.

"I have assembled sixteen troops and am marching toward Leptis Numinus," Roboute Guilliman said, turning to Ampion and gesturing for him to send the list of these troops to Gage.

"Really? That's great news, Primarch."

"The number is still unknown. Get ready, Gage. I need the exact number. Also, Nered Ventanus and Sergeant Shen of the Midnight Blade Fourth Company have submitted a battle plan to me."

"I'm so glad to hear they're still alive."

"They believe they can find a potentially survivable weapon array on the surface of Calth and use the surface platform to strike the Word Bearers' ships. They're on their way to you, and I need you to help them complete this plan to the fullest extent. Those scum still bombing from low Earth orbit will all pay the price."

"I understand, Primarch," Marius Gage replied slowly and in a low voice. "Also, do you regret leaving the anti-psy forces in Macragge?"

Roboute Guilliman knew what he was trying to say; in fact, he had thought about the question himself.

Why couldn't I make up my mind from the beginning?

He had seen what the Warp was capable of, and he understood it better than anyone else, but why did his first instinct still lead him to believe Horus's command?

It wasn't until the Word Bearers had officially arrived, until he saw the Auxilia who were not human, that he finally made up his mind. He didn't even consider calling in the anti-psy forces, because deep down he still held a sliver of hope that they were there to kill Orks.

Think, think, think.

Inference, inference, inference.

After a brief but lengthy theoretical deduction, Roboute Guilliman concluded that Calth's current miserable state was entirely his own doing.

If he could be hard-hearted, if he could shoulder his responsibilities, perhaps things would be different today. If the monarch of Calth, the one who knew the truth, were Lion Eljonsson, the Lion El'Jonson would probably have begun preparing for battle the moment he received the order.

He was different; he was too soft-hearted. He still viewed Horus as a brother, but was Horus Lupercal truly the same person he knew?

Roboute Guilliman thought of Lorgar Aurelian, the twisted, shrouded in darkness, and Aurelian by Lorgar.

"Yes, I regret it," Roboute Guilliman said.

"But they won't blame you," Gage said.

"I can."

Roboute Guilliman closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Once the support forces arrive, begin the offensive. Our immediate priority is to execute Nered Ventanus and Shen's plan; if successful, we can free up resources to send orbital support. The Titans of the Word Bearers will no longer be a problem."

"Understood, Primarch."

"Then we'll end this war."

"Understood, Primarch."

"Then."

"And then what, Primarch?"

"It's nothing," Roboute Guilliman said. "Continue the fight, Chapter Master, keep hope alive."

Yes, there is a code.