173 Interlude: Rekindling (VI, 6.8k)

From the angel's blood-stained eyes, Ka'Bandha saw everything. 💣☆ 🍩♤ And the Khorne was roaring; it could feel that the Khorne was using the continuous surge of power to repair its shattered body and was urging it on, or rather, roaring at it.

Kill him, or I'll do it myself!

"No, not this time, my God," Ka'Bandha said humbly but firmly. "Please, don't interfere."

The Khorne was enraged, almost terrifying Ka'Bandha, but the angel's sword brought him back to reality, back to the reality he had to face.

Smoke and dust swirled all around, and the crater formed by the impact was filled with blood—its own blood. The Daemon's burning eyes shrouded everything in a thick, bloody mist, but it could still discern that its own blood was splattered everywhere, melting the ground.

However, it doesn't matter; every drop of blood is a gift to the god of war.

What it needs to do most now is to get Sanguinius back; that sword is hurting it. It can withstand the damage, but it would much rather stand up and fight the angel than be nailed to the ground like this.

So it swung its axe, with an unwavering resolve, and brought its giant right axe down on Sanguinius.

It knew the angel would block the attack, and indeed, Sanguinius deflected the axe with an extraordinary skill, leaving him with one less hand to wield the sword.

Ka'Bandha saw a look of pain flash across the angel's face.

"Very well, you've realized it." It grinned maliciously. Crimson blood, like magma, gushed from between its sharp teeth, rushing towards the angel with intense heat.

For mortals, such a mouthful of blood would be enough to rupture their intestines and destroy their very being. But for angels, it was merely a slight burning sensation—yet, Ka'Bandha had already achieved his goal.

Its left claws were slightly folded together, and it swung out a standard, ruthless arc, like a human punch. The latter was sent flying by this blow, and when he stood up again, the Daemon had already gotten up as well.

Its chest bore a raw and horrifying hole, far beyond the reach of a sword. Yet the Blade Encarmine remained deeply embedded in the ground. Clearly, Ka'Bandha had not escaped in the usual way.

"Your sword." The Daemon glanced back at it thoughtfully. "You need it. You need a weapon, Sanguinius."

"I could kill you with my bare hands," Sanguinius replied in a low voice.

The Daemon's blood flowed freely down his face, almost turning his skin crimson.

Ka'Bandha smiled; it knew the angel would answer that way.

It casually drew its Blade Encarmine and hurled it at the angel's feet, where it sank deep into the mud.

"I said I wanted a fair fight," Ka'Bandha said. "I have two weapons, and you have two weapons. We've both lost one, and now we only have one left."

It picked up the massive bone axe that seemed to come from a primitive era and raised it high.

"Raise your sword, angel," Ka'Bandha urged with eager anticipation. "This is a ritual between warriors. Raise your weapon, hold it high, and point its blade towards the sky. Then swear an oath, swearing that you will kill this enemy before you. In this way, the god of war will set His gaze upon you."

The angel made none of the above requests; he drew his sword, flapped his wings, and flew straight over, like a dazzling ray of light.

Rage flowed in his eyes, and the blade stabbed and slashed at Ka'Bandha's body hundreds of times like lightning, but the Daemon seemed unmoved. It stood there panting, and suddenly, in a split second, it reached out its right claw and grabbed the angel's blade.

The aura of hellish sulfur once again gushed forth from between its sharp teeth, but it shook its head in dissatisfaction.

"You should at least have some manners," Ka'Bandha complained, then pushed the sword away, causing the angel to step back.

It looked down at itself and was slightly surprised to find that it was covered in wounds, with deep cuts that exposed the bone.

The angel remained silent, only angrily swinging his sword again. The Daemon, focused intently on his shoulder, preemptively raised his axe to block any possible change in the sword's trajectory.

So the angel shifted his right foot, spinning and changing tactics once more. The sharpness and power he displayed in battle excited Ka'Bandha once more. The Daemon growled, lowered his left wing to protect his face, and then, with a slump of his shoulder, charged forward.

At the cost of its damaged left wing, it knocked the angel away again, and Sanguinius crashed heavily to the ground, his pupils dilating for a fleeting moment.

The power of Daemon is irrational, primal and pure, so savage as to be a force of its own. One can contend with it, but often, one must also bear the pain that comes from clashing with this power.

He struggled to his feet, but a dark shadow flashed before his eyes—it was the Daemon's descending giant axe. Its jagged edges sliced through the air, hurtling towards the angel at breakneck speed.

Blood-red light burst forth, illuminating everything. The Daemon's growling face, obsidian-like teeth, and long tongue bitten by itself. Sanguinius's tightly furrowed brows, blood-stained wings, and his right hand raised as if by instinct.

The Blade Encarmine blade and the giant axe collided with a deafening roar, the ground sank several meters, and dust billowed up in a howling storm. The angel groaned, enduring intense pain from the blow, a piercing agony shooting through his back.

The Daemon grinned and released his grip, pressing the axe down on the angel and instead using his claws to choke his throat. The immense force began to suffocate the angel the moment they made contact.

"Rebel against me!"

Ka'Bandha roared out these words. They didn't sound like mockery, but rather like an urging.

But the angel did not disappoint him. He gritted his teeth and thrust out his Blade Encarmine, the longsword piercing through Ka'Bandha's jaw from bottom to top, reaching the top of his head.

Blood and a smoky gray, viscous substance gushed from the wound. Ka'Bandha roared furiously, not only refusing to let go but actually increasing his grip.

Yes! That's it! Kill him!

In that instant, it heard the Khorne's roar again. Here it came again, that same urging.

The Daemon growled as it forced itself to release its claws and slowly took a few steps back. It raised its hand, grabbed the Blade Encarmine, pulled it out, and held it in its grasp. This sword was not forged for a creature like itself, and the way it held it was utterly comical.

The Khorne roared in its ear again, each syllable seeming to burn. He commanded it to kill Sanguinius —and this time, Ka'Bandha defied its god.

"No."

It began to mutter to itself, and blood gushed from its wounds like a flood, yet it remained standing.

"I will kill him, but not in this way, Khorne."

It lowered its head and looked at the wound on its chest that was healing. This demonic realm was jointly forged by the four gods, and every killing and death within it was passively healing its wounds and strengthening its power.

Ka'Bandha could even glimpse the battlefield at this moment, and the war that would soon take place here, through the divine grace it enjoyed.

How sweet it is, a bloody war that has lasted for ten thousand years. If it were still the same simple bloodthirsty creature it once was, it would have charged straight into this war, offering countless heads to the Khorne. But—

"--But you sent me to fight him, Khorne," Ka'Bandha whispered, watching the angel slowly rise from the bloodshed.

"You've made me realize that the offspring of the Cursed One are not just inferior infants or immature idiots; there is a true warrior among them. I challenged him, and the first time, I won. The second time, I lost, and now it's the third."

"I will fight him until this is all over. I want this fight to be completely fair, without any support, any help, any interference. I want you to guarantee that, Khorne."

"In return, you will see Ka'Bandha beheaded, and Baal's angel will surpass his own limits and step into a new realm. Or, you will see me break his wings and offer his soul to your Throne."

It grinned maliciously, and the Khorne grinned maliciously too. Together they watched as Sanguinius raised his giant axe from the blood-stained mud, his eyes bloodshot, his appearance a result of the backflow of blood and internal injuries.

"That really suits your image. "Ka'Bandha burst into laughter.

Very good, very good. He praises from His Throne. You have briefly transcended the shackles I placed upon you, Ka'Bandha, you have proven your courage through your defiance, and you have proven your pursuit of a fair fight, haven't you?

Ka'Bandha silently raised the Blade Encarmine, feeling the endless, bloody support of the gods slowly dissipate. It grew weaker, yet also stronger. It looked down at the Blade Encarmine and saw that the sword was scorching its flesh, just as its axe was harming the angel's body.

"Go to war!" roared the God of War. "In my name!"

"Blood for the Blood God!"

With a roar, Ka'Bandha leaped into the air, his Blade Encarmine piercing the angel's face with precision and lethality. Sanguinius responded with a roar of equal force; his hands, already charred black from his giant axe, still managed to block the Daemon's attack.

He spun around, his wings flapping, and leaped into the air with enough force to shatter the ground, hurling his giant axe down. The Daemon responded to the invitation to flight with its tattered wings, grabbing the axe's edge with its backhand, unconcerned that it had nearly severed half of its hand, and threw the Blade Encarmine back.

The angel caught him and soared again, swept away by the gale as he plummeted downwards. The Daemon growled excitedly and collided head-on with him. The shockwave erupted once more, sending dirt flying; everything seemed so brutal.

The Daemon swung its axe, swept its tail, rammed its shoulder, and slammed its fists—it used every trick in the book to wound the angel, ravaging his armor and body. The angel, however, was equally ruthless. Each strike of the Blade Encarmine tore away a chunk of flesh from the Daemon, causing hellfire to burst forth from Daemon eyes in the intense heat.

Both sides were filled with terrifying rage and determined to kill the other. As if summoned by the heavens, the broken clouds were blown in by the gale, obscuring their heads and spewing down a chaotic bloody light, creating a vast cage or dueling cage. This bloody light would not dissipate until one of them died.

In the midst of the Chaos tide, the Khorne swore in His name to all beings who could hear His voice that this battle would be absolutely fair.

He drew his sword for this.

Axe and sword clashed once more, steaming blood gushing from the angel's armor. This absolute masterpiece was damaged in many places, even corroded. Supernatural aging was ravaging the once inseparable collaboration between the gold and Adamantium, while Daemon power added fuel to the fire.

But what about the Daemon? Since the angels are already in such a sorry state, would Ka'Bandha show the face of a victor? The answer is no, it is equally pathetic.

Its axe-wielding claws are the primary targets of the Blade Encarmine; they are already bare bones, with burning tendons from hell stubbornly clinging to the exposed muscles, throbbing with every movement of its master.

Ka'Bandha's body looked as if it had been subjected to the cruelest torture, with numerous wounds lacking flesh and bone, making it almost unbelievable how it could still stand and launch such a ferocious attack on the angels.

They hacked and slashed at each other, bleeding profusely, each clash a perfect display of combat skill. But this was only the beginning, for they would eventually fight until each other was exhausted, unable to stand, or even hold a weapon.

Ka'Bandha waited with absolute patience for that moment, and focused intently on trying to kill the angel until it actually happened.

The power of the Empyrean was roaring within his body, as was the angel's, whose power also originated from the Empyrean, yet he refused to accept this fact. But that didn't matter, for they were both fighting with their backs against the wall.

The Daemon no longer enjoy the resurrection power that the Khorne draws from the River of Blood, nor do they have the constant support of their unborn kind. Like angels, they are completely alone, without support, without the gaze of the higher realms, or the silent support of others.

There was only each other, only this deep, muddy, bloody pit, only this primitive, savage battle itself.

How much time has actually passed?

With a maniacal laugh, Ka'Bandha seized the angel's head, slammed him to the ground, and trampled him underfoot. The angel dodged, flapped his wings, leaped up, turned, and struck the Daemon down with his sword, standing on it and beginning a rampage of slaughter.

Blood flowed freely as they stared at each other amidst their furious roars. The human's eyes were wide with rage, his face contorted in pain, the blood staining him beyond recognition.

The Daemon's mouth gaped open, its mutilated face contorted with a primal, innate ferocity—but this was merely a facade. In truth, it was calm and joyful, awaiting its final moment.

Fight, fight, fight. Keep fighting, rising again and again from the mud pits, roaring at each other amidst the splattering blood and flesh.

The longsword chipped, the axe shattered, the armor crumbled, and the bones were destroyed. Only when all these conditions were met did the Daemon groggily realize that it had finally arrived.

So it released its right claw, which now only had two claws, and let the nearly shattered axe fall to the ground.

It looked at Sanguinius, a smile spreading across its face, for the angel looked much like it at that moment.

The magnificent golden armor was shattered beyond repair, its gauntlets twisted, its leg armor broken, and its breastplate melted.

His body was riddled with wounds, and the soldier's insignia and medals reeked of blood. His battered wings were still flapping defiantly, but they no longer had the strength to beat.

"Throw the sword away," Ka'Bandha urged, his words muffled. "It's useless now."

The angel looked down at his sword and found it to be true.

The once indestructible sword was now chipped in several places, and the red gemstones that had been inlaid on it were long gone. Its hilt was covered in cracks, and the metal was silently sucking his blood and cutting into the flesh of his hands.

"You humans—" the Daemon gasped, then began to limp across the arena. "—your history is short, as short as your lifespan. But you are adept at learning and at Legacy."

It raised its claws and pressed them against its chest, digging its broken claws and teeth into the flesh of its palms and securing them in place. Then, it opened its mouth and began to carve its clenched fist with its fine fangs, grinding its bones and biting away at flesh.

With absolute patience, Ka'Bandha forged for himself a pair of mutilated fists instead of savage claws. He raised them, shrugged, and nodded to the angel.

"Come on." It laughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "Come on, in the most primal way. After fists come teeth, angel, let's fight to the death."

The angel silently and gently released his hand, the Blade Encarmine reluctant to slip, creating a new, narrow wound in his palm. The angel raised his hands, slowly pried off his wings, and then clenched his fists.

They began to slowly approach each other, the first punch thrown by the angel. Even in extreme exhaustion and injury, the demigod's power remained dangerous; several of Ka'Bandha's teeth were knocked out, the pain fueling his rage and heightened excitement.

It laughed angrily and swung its left fist, not even bothering to defend itself. The angel tried its best to dodge, but was still struck in the left rib, several broken bones protruding from the surface of its body, trembling cruelly in the air.

The angel spat out a mouthful of blood, Ka'Bandha readily accepted, licking the blood of his mortal enemy, yet finding no solace in it.

"That's it, Sanguinius, that's it!" it roared again. "That's exactly how it should be!"

The angel roared and punched it away, the final swing even breaking off one of the Daemon's two horns, forcing it to stagger and fall to the ground, but it was still talking.

"Tear off your beautiful outer garments!"

It drowsily raised its head in the blood plasma and looked at the tottering angel.

"Cast aside worldly views, responsibilities, self-discipline, and the so-called fate of humanity. You are a warrior, Sanguinius, you were born that way. I can see the rage in your heart, I can smell your suppressed Red Thirst, come and throw your fist at me!"

It pounded the ground, stood up abruptly, and roared angrily at Sanguinius.

"Come and fight me!"

The angel, panting, looked at it, its white fangs already protruding from its lips. It didn't need a mirror to know that it probably didn't look much better than Ka'Bandha at this moment.

His long-suppressed Red Thirst was fully unleashed in this brutal battle; a pure rage was surging within him. If he killed Ka'Bandha, it would erupt completely. Sanguinius had rejected it countless times; what about this time?

He looked up at the blood-red light all around him, and he also heard the Khorne's cry. He knew that if Ka'Bandha didn't die, he couldn't leave this prison.

But he had to leave. Countless loyalists needed him, the Imperium needed him, and his father needed him too.

In the prophecy, he collapsed, dying, beside the gods. He didn't know why, but he had to reach that future.

Ka'Bandha slowly approached him.

Kill me, or be killed by me. Sanguinius read this message in its eyes.

Sanguinius silently lowered his fists, then raised them again. He suppressed his anger, his worry, and the boundless weariness of his journey, raising his fists with only a simple thought in mind.

Something was boiling within his veins, like burning venom. It wasn't the work of Ka'Bandha, nor the arm of the Khorne, but rather the erosion of him by the power of Chaos.

The angel gave a self-deprecating laugh, but then the face of Karyl Lohars suddenly flashed before his eyes.

Just like you, he thought. We are all monsters in human skin, bound by ourselves.

"Time for reflection is over, Sanguinius."

Ka'Bandha approached him, said this, and slowly came to a stop, his bent feet sinking into the earth. His burning eyes stared blankly at the angel, life force draining from his body, just like the angel himself.

It threw a punch, and the angel didn't dodge, taking the full force of the blow that could shatter an armored vehicle with his abdomen. The shockwave manifested as visible torture on his body, bones shattering one by one, flesh trembling, and blood and internal organs gushing from his throat.

The Daemon laughed, but its laughter was tinged with sorrow. It knew it had won, but it also knew that from now on, it would never have such a worthy opponent, never have such a good battle again.

It truly mourns this.

Sanguinius staggered backward, shaking his head repeatedly as if bewildered by the scene before him. Ka'Bandha prayed that he would fall, but also that he would stubbornly stand up, walk back, and punch it, knocking it to the ground.

Hit me again, prolong the fight for just one more second, Sanguinius, I beg you.

The angel, vomiting blood, raised its head, and a faint blue light emerged from the bloodlust in its eyes.

He walked back silently and fought back amidst Ka'Bandha's ecstatic gaze. He still had power—what a damn miracle! He had become like this, yet he still had power at his disposal.

The punch cruelly struck Ka'Bandha in the eye, shattering its eye socket and causing its eyeball to protrude. It collapsed again. The angel watched it fall, struggling in the mud, but unable to get up again.

He suddenly felt a wave of sorrow.

This is just a performance, he thought. It's all about the fall of Terra, the people tortured and sacrificed as offerings, and this battle.

Even if I win this battle, so what?

The mastermind behind it all doesn't care; He will only offer a satisfied laugh in the eternal war.

None of this matters; it's all just a drama staged by those evil gods to please themselves. Meaningless, everything is meaningless. Why don't I just die? To repay this cruel world?

The thought was so compelling; he was exhausted and wanted to end it all. But in that instant, a surge of anger returned.

He had managed to control it, but it returned. So fierce, yet so cold and still, it froze every drop of his blood, and rendered the poison from nothingness unable to harm his soul any longer.

Those empty thoughts quickly dissipated, vanishing like smoke. Sanguinius felt a pang of shame, not understanding why he had entertained such thoughts—but he soon realized something was amiss.

He remained silent, touched his still-beating heart, and suddenly laughed.

"Coward," he said, looking up at the sky. "You swore this battle would be absolutely fair, and what happened? You broke your oath. I despise you."

On the Brass Throne, the Khorne suddenly roared. He had perhaps never been so angry; even the joy of witnessing such a battle could not quell his rage.

The crimson light that enveloped the surroundings shattered instantly, and Ka'Bandha stopped struggling, tilting its head back to look at the broken clouds. This hard-won peace lasted for less than a few seconds before it began to roar madly.

"I curse you, Tzeentch! I curse you, you despicable and shameless false god!"

A thunderbolt struck from the sky, as if to punish his disrespect. But another crimson light drifted in, instantly shattering the thunderbolt. In the crimson light, Ka'Bandha's form began to dissipate. It melted, its flesh and bones shattering together.

It was summoned back by the Khorne, as were the entire Khorne army on the battlefield. These bloodthirsty demons, clad in brass armor, would fight another war, an attack on the kingdom of another god on an unprecedented scale.

Sanguinius slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.

It ended like a child's play. He thought calmly, "These so-called gods are truly laughable."

But he won.

The angel looked up at the sky, beginning to regain his strength. A few minutes later, he managed to fly, sword in hand, only to see another golden light silently approaching from the other side of the battlefield. It didn't seem like a weapon or anything similar; in the angel's perception, it was more like...

Fire?

One more chapter.