Interlude: Rekindling (II)

"Murder. 🎅💘 ✌🐚," Bjorn suddenly said.

"What?" Ahzek Ahriman asked.

"Murder," Lone Wolf repeated. "You've at least heard threats, haven't you? Blind man? You've definitely heard 'I'm going to kill you.' Frankly, it's a cliché, but what if someone said, 'I'm going to murder you?'"

With great interest, he plunged his fist blade into the river of blood, stirred it around, and then scooped up a piece of metal armor that he didn't know where it came from.

Bjorn held it in his hand, shook it, and wiped it clean. Only after confirming that the bloodstains were removed did he pick it up and place it on his face, pretending that he was the one who had said those words. He even made his voice rougher, but Ahzek Ahriman couldn't see his movements at all.

Just a heads up, he's blind.

"I've decided, I'm going to murder you." Bjorn said solemnly, then immediately chuckled. "What do you think of that?"

"That's cold-blooded," commented Sol Tavitz. "Saying you're going to kill someone might just be a momentary outburst, but if someone suddenly says that to another person, I think they've probably already made a thorough plan and preparations."

"Yes, that's exactly right, Tavitz."

Bjorn whistled, then tossed the metal plate into Ahzek Ahriman's hands, landing precisely in his outstretched palms.

"So, before those Daemon return, I'm going to tell you a story." Lone Wolf stood up, stretched his legs, and began to speak seriously.

Thunder was the first to respond. The golden-armored giant plunged his greatsword into the river of blood, then leaned against it, smiling and gesturing for him to speak.

Sigismund opened his eyes from his meditation and became the second person to join them. Thus, the story officially began.

"There is such a person." Bjorn scratched his cheek and muttered, kicking Blood River with his foot. "Let's call him the Icebreaker for now; we gave him that nickname later. He's not Fenrisian; he's an officer, an officer in charge of ship engine maintenance."

"Hearing his position, you can probably tell that he's not really one of us. We have similar positions on our ship, but we don't use that term. However, for about three years, he and his ship did indeed operate alongside us."

"I can't go into the specific details of this matter; it's confidential. But the Icebreaker is indeed a good person, in every way. He manages the area under his responsibility exceptionally well, and in the three years we've known each other, he's never made a single mistake."

"He's also one of the few people who can drink with us—"

Bjorn suddenly burst into laughter, his laughter carrying a gentle mockery characteristic of Space Wolves.

"--He tried drinking mead, just a tiny drop, and it took him two days to recover. Anyway, that's enough of the introduction, I'm going to get to the main point."

"Well, like I said, he managed his area very well, but he's not the captain of the ship after all. However, even if he were captain, I believe he would allow the crew to operate things like a black market on the lower decks."

He spread his hands, shrugged at his companions, and paced back and forth with his axe hanging from his waist as if a fire were burning in front of him.

"Every ship has this spot, doesn't it? It's a persistent problem that can't be eradicated."

Sol Tavitz nodded, agreeing with his theory.

"Yes. People in our fleet do that too; they like to buy and sell small items. They use Throne Gelt, or simply barter. I've seen them buy and sell artwork, books, weapon modifications, and some kind of animal meat from who-knows-where."

"And your photos," Sigismund suddenly added.

Tavitz turned to stare at him, remaining silent for several seconds before asking, "What?"

"Your photos," Sigismund repeated. "Lord Fulgrim's photos can fetch an uncapped price, followed by those of company commanders, or even some newly enlisted recruits. They have a special place to trade these photos, operating outside the black market."

The Emperor's Children stared at him blankly, as if he had forgotten how to High Gothic, or where he was.

"I'm not lying," Imperial Fists repeated solemnly, even raising his right hand. "Remember those six months I spent on your fleet participating in duels? I was allowed to browse your flagship during my free time. And that's how I discovered this."

"No, no." Tavitz raised his hand, his expression utterly indescribable. "You're saying they're trading our photos? How did they take them?"

"Diplomatic meetings, internal speeches, interviews, Remembrancers," Sigismund began to recount. "In short, that's roughly it. I believe Lord Fulgrim knows about it, but he hasn't said anything."

Bjorn immediately burst into laughter. Thunder silently turned his head away without making a sound. Ahzek Ahriman lowered his head and began to flip through the book intently, pretending to be reading.

"Let's skip this," Sol Tavitz said with difficulty. "I believe my Primarch had his reasons for doing this, and a few photos don't really matter. Go on, Bjorn."

Bjorn laughed for a full minute before continuing his story.

In short--

He uttered two words and then laughed again, but quickly suppressed his laughter at Tavitz's expressionless face.

"--The Icebreaker's story focuses on the black market, gentlemen, on that damned black market on that ship."

"Those in charge of the black market are mostly veterans. They know very well what they can and cannot touch. Weapon modifications are okay, but not the whole weapon. A little bit of stimulant is okay, but a large dose of placebo is not. Alcohol is okay, meat is okay, but not exceeding a certain limit."

"You see, they know exactly what's acceptable, even better than officials in the Adeptus Arbites, which things can be overlooked and which are absolutely prohibited. But there will always be some people who try to cross that line."

He was silent for a moment, then his expression suddenly became somewhat serious.

"These people don't know what reverence is." Bjorn shook his head. "They'll want to keep drinking, keep using placebos, and then they'll drag everyone else down with them."

"The Icebreaker happened to enter the black market right behind this man, and then he witnessed a sudden death. A man had opened fire on the black market because he hadn't had any alcohol for over two weeks, and this week there was still none—no homemade, no substitutes—so he went mad."

"He killed forty-one people, and this quickly alerted the ship's military police and Leman Russ Russ."

Bjorn smiled slightly again.

"Russ's a busybody, well, actually, we all are."

His tone suddenly became quiet, no longer mocking as before.

"And this was an absolutely huge scandal, can you imagine? In wartime, such a bloody massacre broke out on an Auxilia warship traveling with the legion. So the Judgment was quickly held, with the military police as the court guards, the captain as the judge, and Russ and we as the jury."

"The Icebreaker himself was one of the witnesses, but before he could speak, the evidence was already irrefutable based on the accounts of the previous witnesses. The complete chain of motives was also clearly visible, and the murderer himself even confessed."

"The captain preemptively sentenced the murderer to death, deserving no modification as a Servitor. But the Icebreaker objected at this point, arguing that according to Imperium law, he, as a witness, was not given the opportunity to present evidence and his own thoughts, which was inappropriate."

"Everyone was puzzled, except for Russ Alpha Wolf, who showed no reaction whatsoever, not even surprise. I still remember his expression; he had his arms crossed, covered himself with his fur cloak, and was smiling the whole time, as if he already knew what the Icebreaker was going to do."

"Then, the captain gave the Icebreaker a chance to speak. Do you know what he said?"

Bjorn spoke, he took the axe from his belt.

Sol Tavitz stood up and slung his sword over his shoulder.

Thunder silently drew his greatsword from the river of blood, blood gushing out and splashing into the boundless filth.

Sigismund touched his forehead with his longsword and closed his eyes to breathe.

Ahzek Ahriman struggled to his feet, the ancient book in his hands moving without wind.

He pointed in a certain direction.

"Over there," the blind man said in a low voice. "Over there."

Some roars came from the direction he was pointing.

"Do you want to hear the whole thing?" Bjorn asked.

"It seems like a good story," Thunder replied in a booming voice. "So, yes, I'd like to hear it all."

They began to slowly walk in the direction Ahzek Ahriman had indicated. Some Daemon corpses on the ground were still unmelted, and the air itself had begun to burn. A bloody river reached their knees, and waves surged from afar.

It gradually started to heat up, making a bubbling sound, and became as hot as lava.

"The Icebreaker said he believed the man was utterly wicked and deserved to die, but then he added, since they were now traveling with wolves, far from the Imperium borders, and with Leman Russ Russ observing, then—"

Bjorn spoke, he reached behind him and Ahzek Ahriman handed him a Boltgun.

"--Why not resolve this matter using the laws of Fenris?"

He opened fire, and black mist swept in from the end of the blood river, a surging demonic tide, the roars of the Daemon even drowning out the sound of the Boltgun.

"And then?" Sol Tavetz asked.

He had already raised his sword, the Aquila -shaped hilt pressed against the rusty gauntlets. The blade was no longer gleaming; bloodstains clung to it, an indelible mark.

Despite his Displacer Field, he faithfully responded to Tavitz's call, and with a buzzing sound, arcs of electricity immediately coiled around him. He raised his sword high, casually stepped slightly away from the group, and brought his longsword down hard, smashing a Daemon hiding beneath the river of blood into dust.

"Russ agreed," Bjorn grinned. "Then he stood up. The captain wanted to make one last effort; he didn't want a Primarch to be so deeply involved, but Russ was made up. That's just how he is; once he makes a decision, nothing can sway him."

Thunder strode past him, lightning crackling around the greatsword, its broad, awe-inspiring blade now completely black. Lightning bolts escaped with his breath, creating leaping arcs of electricity in the air.

The demonic tide arrived silently. Daemon with wings on its back and wearing armor charged out, laughing wildly, and brought its giant axe down on him, but was easily blocked by Thunder's sword.

He began to fight it, the battle going back and forth—but even so, he didn't forget to keep asking Bjorn what happened next.

"And then what, Lone Wolf?"

He roared and questioned, paying no heed to the name of his opponent. The Daemon howled in fury, and bloody heat emanated from beneath his brass armor, while blood tears began to flow from the skulls around his neck.

"And then," Bjorn suddenly chuckled, his fist silently thrusting out, causing a bat-winged Daemon that had descended from the sky and was pouncing on Ahzek Ahriman to stumble.

A flash of sword light followed, Sigismund expressionlessly beheaded it, placing it in front of Ahzek Ahriman. Sol Tavitz arrived from behind, Bjorn tossed him Boltgun and three magazines, thus naturally handing over the responsibility of providing covering fire.

Everything was so perfectly in sync; they had done it tens of thousands of times, maybe even hundreds of thousands of times—that's how they were supposed to be.

Ahzek Ahriman held the ancient book high in his hands; its pages moved without wind, as if they were being turned.

"Then"

Bjorn swung his axe, slicing open the jaw of a emaciated goat-hoofed Daemon. He pounced on it, his fist blade, already crackling with electricity, immediately plunging into its brain.

A bent sword fell from above his head, and a deformed, obese, short Daemon laughed, as if it could already see Bjorn's head fall to the ground. But it itself had been cut in two by Sigismund long before that.

Lone Wolf, his face covered in blood, stood up, wiped his face, and continued his story.

"Russ said that Fenris's laws were quite simple, even barbaric. He asked the Icebreaker if he could accept them, and the Icebreaker nodded. So Russ said that Fenris's laws were that murderers should pay with their lives. If someone was killed, then the victim's relatives, brothers, and friends could all seek Vengeance against the murderer."

"Turn," Ahzek Ahriman muttered to himself. "Turn here."

He was blind, yet the ancient book in his hands began to grow increasingly hot. He couldn't see anything, but he knew someone was turning the pages for him.

No, perhaps they weren't even human, just wronged spirits.

His nose began to bleed, as if under some immense pressure, and he began to speak in a language he had never learned before. So Bjorn also began to speak in this language, which was called Juvjk in Fenris.

And somehow, they could all understand it.

"The Icebreaker turned to the murderer and told him he would meet him at six o'clock the next morning on the lower deck with a knife. He decided he would murder him in a reasonable, legal, and justifiable way."

The captain asked him why he did this, since the murderer should have been executed anyway, and postponing it until tomorrow was essentially giving him an extra half day of life. The Icebreaker didn't offer an explanation; he simply looked at Russ and asked, "Shouldn't murder be punished with death?"

Bjorn arrogantly slung his axe over his shoulder and waved to a group of Daemon whose bodies were coalescing in the mist.

"Russ said—" He roared and raised his axe. "The murderer deserves to pay with his life, and anyone can Vengeance their brothers, comrades, family, and friends!"

He charged into the demonic tide, Sigismund close behind, and Sol Tavitz stood in front of Ahzek Ahriman, sword in one hand and pistol in the other, beginning to clear away the stragglers that were about to escape.

"The Icebreaker has completed his Vengeance. He resigned his officer's post, joined the wolves, and died in battle one winter!" Bjorn roared, his words slurred. "And now you are walking with wolves too!"

"What's the point of this story, you wolf cub?!" Thunder roared back.

He was still fighting the Daemon, who was at least eight meters tall and whose every strike was as heavy as a battering ram. Sword and axe clashed, cutting out a uniform cloud of blood. Dark lightning and crimson flames devoured each other, spiraling and intertwining, hatred and slaughter running parallel.

"It's pointless, Thunder!" Bjorn shouted back. "I just wanted to tell you—"

Before he could finish speaking, with a loud bang, he was sent flying backward in a very disheveled state. His armor was completely shattered, and he lay face down in the river of blood, his fate unknown.

Sigismund frowned, immediately returned to the group, and stood in front of Ahzek Ahriman with his sword. Sol Tavitz threw down his empty bomb Boltgun, held his sword with both hands, and solemnly assumed a starting stance.

They could all sense the tremor in the air, and they knew that something else was about to arrive.

Something extremely savage and terrifying.

A colossal figure began to solidify in the blood mist, and a river of blood rose high, churning up waves. Daemon cried out as they were melted or slaughtered by their own weapons, their flesh and blood rushing into the blood mist, carried by the blood.

At the same time, the Daemon that was fighting the Thunder suddenly roared and uttered a name, a name that could be understood without needing to know their language.

"Ka'Bandha--!"

It swung its axe, forcing back the Thunder, and roared with unprecedented fury, "Go back! This is my slaughter!"

"You are not worthy," the being called Ka'Bandha sneered. "This slaughter no longer belongs to you. You are a loser, defeated by the cowardly experiment abandoned by that weak god. This place will soon become my killing field, where I will tear off the wings of angels."

It took a deep breath, and a cloud of blood mist rolled away, completely devoured by the enormous creature. Its true form was then revealed: hooves, horns, wings, and brass armor.

On the surface, it may look no different from those powerful Daemon that have appeared before, but between its obsidian-like teeth is a Daemon corpse that is being pulverized.

It is devouring its own kind, something that has never happened before.

"It calls you an unwanted test subject, Thunder."

Bjorn had been lying face down in the river of blood, suddenly sat up and quipped. He slowly rose to his feet with his back to them, fragments of his armor slowly falling from his body, his bent arms and twisted axe blade testifying that he had tried to defend himself.

He resisted, but failed.

Thunder didn't answer, but a storm was brewing in his eyes. He caught up with the Daemon who still wanted to say something, and with a desperate move, he beheaded it with his greatsword, at the cost of having his chest pierced by the Daemon's claws.

But he didn't care at all. He simply swung his sword again, severing the claw, and then turned around, carrying the head, and threw it at Ka'Bandha's feet.

"Your name is Ka'Bandha?" Thunder asked calmly, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

"Yes," the Daemon sneered in a low voice. "What brings you here, test subject? Does it make you feel bitter to fight alongside your successor?"

"They're my brothers," Thunder said. "But you—who did you just call a coward?"

He raised his sword and charged at it, and they followed closely behind. Only Ahzek Ahriman, carrying his book, limped to the other side.

"I just want to tell you, I'm honored," Bjorn muttered breathlessly as he charged forward. "I'm honored."

Far behind them, the sound of continuous artillery fire could be heard.

This chapter is 5k words long, one more chapter to go.