162 Terra (30)
To put it bluntly, if Constantine Valdor were a wild beast, then Imperial Palace would naturally be his the Nest. 👊😂 ☹🍭 This metaphor contains no insult; it is simply stating a fact.
The Imperial Palace was his the Nest, his domain, where Valdor had been since its construction. He knew every road, room, palace, and sentry post within it like the back of his hand, but unfortunately, this knowledge was now of no use.
The Imperial Palace was once a vast complex, but now it is just a broken ruin, shrouded in darkness, a monster-infested land covered in thick ashes.
That's good, because Constantine Valdor is extremely skilled at killing monsters. Long before the Unborn truly wreaked havoc on the world, he was already dealing with people who had become monsters because of war.
The victor consumed by belligerence, the loser burdened by the shame and hatred of defeat, or simply a delusional person consumed by ambition.
But now it's different; he's facing a different kind of monster.
Fortunately, there isn't much difference.
Valdor swung his spear with one hand, and the spear precisely and smoothly sliced through a piece of rotten Ceramite that was still attached to the flesh. What burst forth from the wound was not the smell of blood and flesh, but a horrifying stench.
The wounded Lorgar Aurelian roared and rammed his shoulder into him, his exposed chest cavity revealing no heart, only a grotesque network of veins. But in that instant, Valdor saw into his heart and understood the truth.
He knew that the eyes hidden behind the crimson goggles had been completely devoured by the undead in the Warp, their essence vanished, their names and souls torn to shreds and greedily swallowed.
And they are never satisfied; they will always crave more. Just like now, they crave the flesh and blood of Constantine Valdor.
The Adeptus Custodes Guard Marshal remained unmoved, simply extending his spear with one hand. He pierced through the scarlet armor, then deftly withdrew the spear, parrying a short blade that attacked from behind.
A vicious beast burst forth from the Warp mist and pounced at him. Its mouth was wide open, and its teeth, swirling and dense, awaited the arrival of flesh and blood. Valdor kicked it back with a strike, then immediately turned and swept it across the room.
The spear's blade gleamed with golden light, undimmed by a single drop of filthy blood. Various weapons attacked him, but he was always faster, always the same—a mere fraction of a second, yet the difference was immense. A flash of golden light, and four bodies, severed at the waist, slowly fell to the ground.
The hallucinations of the killing flooded his mind; this was the case with the Apollonian Spear, eager to transmit the feelings and memories of the dead back to him. But these fallen ones had nothing left; they didn't even remember their own names.
Beneath that crimson armor, covered in human skin and bones, lay not flesh and blood, but decaying dust.
How could they not see such cruelty?
Valdor shook his head, picked up his weapon with one hand, and stepped into the deeper darkness.
This place can no longer be considered the real world, but to be honest, there are very few places in the entire Terra that can be considered part of the "Materium".
Valdor stepped through the thick dust and jumped onto a burning Leman Russ Tank. The dead bodies of the crew members caught his attention.
They did not die from the chain reaction caused by the destruction of Leman Russ Tank, although their bodies were indeed being burned by flames and were unable to leave. But Valdor could tell that they had been dead long before that.
They were emaciated, their skin devoid of moisture, their muscles atrophied, their blood completely drained. Something had killed them, and only after that was Leman Russ Tank destroyed.
Daemon?
Valdor stood up, jumped off the armored vehicle, and walked across the burning trenches. These trenches were not designed by Rogal Dorn; the design by the Stone would not have been so crude.
He kept this in mind and then continued on. Limbs and torsos were scattered everywhere, and thick layers of ash trembled slightly in the air. The black snow hadn't fallen where he was, which meant he was on the right track, because Rogal Dorn was in such a place.
He must find Rogal Dorn, and he absolutely must find him.
This is the Emperor's decree.
As his cloak swept across the ashes, the Adeptus Custodes Guard Marshal leaped atop the crude trench, a foul-smelling breeze wafting by. He sniffed lightly and easily detected a distinctive scent of blood.
He gripped the spear tightly with one hand, while his right hand swayed across his chest, causing waves of insignificant pain. His self-healing abilities were ineffective against this wound; to wield the Lord's sword, he had to pay a price.
He was completely unconcerned about the cost, and simply continued to sniff.
He was already quite familiar with the stench of Chaos, but this smell was different; it didn't belong to humans, nor did it belong to Daemon.
A barely perceptible hint of worry flashed across Valdor's face.
Among the Primarch, Rogal Dorn is one of the few who commands the respect of the Valdor.
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Everyone else was either too naive or too foolish. Dorn was different; he was neither worldly-wise nor naive. He was not foolish, but he certainly did not consider himself to possess extraordinary intelligence.
From this perspective, he might seem like a mediocre person, but in reality, Rogal Dorn possesses a unique and unwavering resilience. This resilience allows him to disregard and transcend everything, yet he remains humble.
A humble, yet incredibly resilient man. He remained unmoved even when he learned that his decades of painstaking efforts had been futile, and turned his attention to devising more strategies for Terra's surface.
Therefore, from any perspective, Constantine Valdor did not want Rogal Dorn to die at this moment.
So he started running, sprinting wildly following the scent of blood. Like a dim Radiance piercing straight into the darkness, the stench of blood grew stronger, as if someone had been shedding their blood here for hundreds of years.
The Adeptus Custodes Guard Marshal frowned sharply, feeling his senses being clouded, as if he were sinking into a quagmire. He stopped running, but it was too late.
Without any warning, the world before his eyes suddenly brightened, and all sorts of sounds rushed into his ears: roars, gunfire, and the sound of flesh being torn apart.
He looked over in silence and saw a group of Astartes fighting a bloody battle.
They fought bravely and were certainly elite. They numbered only about five hundred, yet they were able to engage in a back-and-forth tug-of-war with Daemon several times their number on this blood-stained yellow sand.
However, Valdor had never seen that blue and red paint scheme before. And the flag that was flying over their position, with a black background, a red outer ring, and a scarlet fist printed in the center.
These two things alone are enough to raise suspicions, not to mention their weaponry. Many of them wear a mix of Power Armour, and there seems to be a significant shortage of heavy firepower such as Boltgun, Chainsword, and Phosphex flamethrowers.
The most crucial point is that they had no Auxilia accompanying them, not even a single one.
The wrinkles between the Adeptus Custodes Guard Marshal's brows deepened—what was going on? But he had no time to ask the question, because the bloody battle had already arrived before him.
Dozens of scarlet hounds convulsed, turned from the ranks of Daemon, and barked loudly at his location, their cruel, interlocking teeth slowly wriggling in their lipless mouths.
The Daemon that had been leading them with a barbed rope roared excitedly, immediately releasing its grip and freeing the hounds. It then brandished its scimitar and charged towards Valdor. Some of its kind immediately gave chase, not wanting to fall behind.
Valdor calmly observed the surging tide of demons, his Auramite boots plunging into the blood without hesitation. He thrust his spear forward before any of the Daemon could react.
He pierced the first hound, cut the second in half at the waist, and the third leaped high, trying to bite his wounded right hand, but Valdor crushed its jaw with a ruthless knee strike. He crushed its skull with his foot, and then continued the killing spree.
They surged toward him relentlessly, their bloodlust so palpable in their mindless eyes. But Valdor remained unmoved—to him, these enemies were still too slow.
He is always faster than them, and always just a little faster, thus drawing out more attacks that can be parried, blocked, dodged, or even killed before that happens.
He killed all the hounds in just thirteen seconds, and then waited for the Daemon with two horns on their heads.
The first Daemon to arrive wielded a sharp axe, its blade gleaming Radiance in the Chaos power. Its first strike was a simple, unadorned straight cleave. Valdor stepped back, then pierced the demon, axe and all, together, and hoisted it high into the air.
The Daemon roared in fury, but its body was shattered by a gentle spin. Pieces of flesh and blood fell together with the axe, and blood swirled in the dusty air, creating a spectacular sight.
A golden light flashed, Valdor cruelly smashed through the blood-soaked curtain, silently charging into the Daemon horde.
Two minutes later, he had killed every single Daemon that dared to challenge him.
In the battle formation not far away, even more beastly eyes, gleaming with the Radiance of lava, silently gazed in this direction. Drawn by the blood and screams, and ignited by the silent victory of the Adeptus Custodes Guard Marshal, their fighting spirit was ignited, and thunderous drumbeats began to resound in their battle formation.
Valdor plunged the spear deep into the ground with one hand, then jerked it up. Blood and dust rained down, but the Radiance of the Apollonian Spear was as dazzling as lightning.
He said to the demonic tide, "Come and challenge me."
They surged in like madmen.
Today's chapter is 15,000 words. This is the first chapter; there are four more to go.
I didn't update yesterday because my sleep schedule was completely messed up. I woke up at 4 PM, ate something, started writing, and then fell asleep while writing.