88 Interlude: Deathbringer on Sotha

Sotha is a good place, and it's burning now.

Karyl could smell the odor with perfect clarity; it was composed of burning cities and corpses crackling in the flames. The black smoke billowing from the war machines was one of its characteristics, while the crimson sky was its true outward manifestation.

Even the most clueless person would realize the moment they see it that war has broken out.

But what kind of war was this?

Karyl walked into a pile of ruins.

He didn't use the traditional method of airdropping to Sotha, because there wasn't enough time given what he needed to do, so he resorted to some less conventional methods.

This method has four steps.

First, find a drop-off point.

Second, they removed its hatch.

Third, find a launch port without a drop pod, place the hatch at your feet, then forcibly lock the mechanical structure, causing it to malfunction, and rewrite the program with psionic energy so that it thinks that the launch port contains a ready drop pod.

Fourth, prepare for landing.

That's how he arrived on the surface of Sotha, without paying any price. He carefully used his psionic powers to protect his physical body, which was transforming into a human form. In that sense, he did indeed descend in a drop pod, albeit a psionic version.

Aside from that, there's nothing particularly special about it.

Ah, perhaps there is some truth to that, namely, the landing wasn't particularly noticeable. Compared to a burning city, his silent drop pod was practically insignificant.

And that's why he appeared silently on the surface of Sotha, in this city whose name he didn't know.

Karyl took a deep, deep breath of the gunpowder-filled air and, amidst the screams of the civilians, spread out the capture net.

To the greatest extent possible.

Two straight swords slid out of his sleeves and were gripped tightly in his hands, pressed against his wrists, bringing a supernatural chill.

He was the same.

The piercing alarm ripped everything apart; it was a warning of impending war, scattering death and misfortune over the heads of all the peaceful and prosperous people.

They were immediately astonished to discover that the war was not brought about by Daemon or Xenos, but by Astartes —and not the traitorous Astartes they were familiar with, but by a group of well-trained, swift-attacking monsters dressed in midnight-colored paint.

They preemptively attacked the city's energy hub, lowered the shields, and then simultaneously attacked the power plant, various military camps, and the city's defenses, which were not even pointing their cannons at them.

The situation was dire, but Sotha's Auxilia and the three companies of the Emperor's Scythes were still fighting side by side, tenacious and brave, but it was difficult to achieve the desired effect.

There are two reasons.

First, they had never fought against such an enemy before and were unfamiliar with such ruthless tactics. Moreover, the unnecessary cruelty displayed by the enemy in battle greatly damaged the morale of the Auxilia, making the front line even more difficult to maintain.

Second, the enemy outnumbered them several times over.

These two factors combined made winning this war significantly more difficult.

Tiberius of the Fourth Company of the Emperor's Scythes was fully aware of what had happened. He was standing in a makeshift trench, taking cover from direct enemy fire, when two stray bullets grazed his helmet, causing a violent jolt.

He pretended not to notice him and hurried to his company commander's side.

Kensus, known as the "Ruthless" Tyranids killer, was using his sniper Torchbearer to pick off the enemy, but still noticed his arrival and spoke first.

"What is it, Tiberius?"

"We must retreat, sir."

His words caused Kensus to retreat behind the bunker and glance at him.

He then shook his head and said in his characteristically flat tone, "Unless ordered by the Chapter Master or the Planetary Governor, the Fourth Company's mission is to hold Sothopolis."

"But we can't hold it!"

"But we must try, Tiberius. I know what you're trying to say. Yes, we are the knights of Sotha, and we must protect our people and their land, and the people are always more important than the land. But I tell you, we cannot back down."

"Why, sir?"

"Because of that mountain."

Kensus whispered as he readied his gun again and gently pulled the trigger. His shot was incredibly accurate; a splatter of blood immediately appeared across the street.

"Mountains?" the young Tiberius asked, puzzled.

"Yes, Mount Pharos —because of it, we cannot retreat. I, like you, am puzzled by this group of traitors who suddenly appeared, but I am, after all, the company commander, and I have the right to know things you don't, just like that mountain."

"That's precisely why the Fourth Company, Fifth Company, and Sixth Company fought to the death, Tiberius. But you're also right; we can't hold out, so we'll die here."

The ruthless man retreated back into cover, changed his magazine, and asked without looking up, "What do you think?"

Tiberius's response was to raise his gun and fire, followed by a roar.

"For Sotha!"

The ruthless man chuckled softly, having dealt with his young brother's confusion, he began to focus on shooting.

The enemy is Burning Fire all over his beloved city, turning it beyond recognition, but the ruthless man has spent his 187th year here; this is his home.

Who wouldn't be familiar with their own home?

He held his gun and began moving through the trenches, sketching a map in his mind as he went.

They were located on Guilliman Twenty-Second Street, across from a library and a university. The enemy's main firepower came from the university's upper floors; they were probably unaware that there was a tunnel beneath the library leading directly into the university.

Through it, the Fourth Company can launch a surprise attack that can turn the tide of the current situation.

The ruthless man stopped and looked up at the tall teaching building. He saw many corpses hanging upside down, teachers and students alike, their blood smearing the entire exterior wall.

He had witnessed firsthand how these monsters tortured people; instead of grenades or magazines, they carried cruel instruments of torture on their belts, such as skinning knives, bone-chopping knives, and meat hooks.

Bloodstains, rust stains—the rust deliberately preserved to evoke greater fear and inflict greater pain.

An overwhelming rage suddenly arose in the heart of the ruthless.

Immediately afterwards, he heard a whooshing sound. It was not the sound of any vehicle, nor the sound of a shell tearing through the air, or a bullet piercing through the air.

The ruthless man instinctively looked back, but only caught a fleeting black shadow. His retina couldn't even capture its afterimage; at that moment, the clearest sight he saw was the artillery position that the Auxilia had just set up.

The ruthless man immediately turned his head and aimed his gun, but he still couldn't see the true form of the thing that had suddenly flashed by. He began to search and silently prayed to the Emperor that it hadn't been an enemy weapon.

His prayers came true; it was indeed not the enemy's weapon, but the source of death.

Through his scope, he saw six heads fly high across the street at the same instant, followed by four more at another angle—the enemy roared, their firing ceased, and a sudden riot broke out on their position.

The ruthless man moved his gun with focused concentration, trying to get a better view through the scope.

The weapon he had meticulously maintained did not disappoint him; its automatic target acquisition system quickly pinpointed the exact location of a group of enemies gathered behind their cover using heat signatures.

Kensus immediately realized this was an opportunity. He took aim and pulled the trigger. The bullet left the barrel, but just before it hit a traitor, something killed him.

Kensus couldn't see clearly, but he was certain that something killed the guy before his bullet hit him.

His cheek twitched slightly, but what followed was an almost instinctive deduction: whatever it was, it was helping them.

His prediction came true, just as his prayers had come true. It was indeed an accomplice, who appeared in a matter of seconds. But he was not anyone Kensus had imagined capable of such an atrocity; he was a slightly taller mortal.

If you ignored the corpses scattered around him and his bloodstained hands, he might even be identified by Kensus's scope as a civilian exposed in the combat zone who needed protection.

The man turned around, a cold glint flashing in his dark eyes. Kensus abruptly stopped in his tracks. He had no proof, but he just felt that this man was looking at him.

Then, his intuition, his speculation, and his prayers all came true once again.

Kensus saw his lips move, and from the shape of his lips, the fourth company commander of the Emperor's Scythes was absolutely certain that what this man said was: I will kill them all.

His words were true. Just seven and a half minutes later, enemies fell from the occupied teaching building, their limbs broken and their armor shattered, crashing to the ground like lifeless clones of flesh.

A brilliant Blue Radiance burst forth from within the tall building, shattering all the reinforced glass, disabling all communication equipment on the surrounding positions, and bringing with it a piercing shriek.

Two minutes later, Kensus and his company arrived inside and began searching for survivors.

They were shocked to find that every corridor was filled with the corpses of the enemy, and the deaths were extremely gruesome, with not a single body intact.

They eventually found the teachers and students hiding in the basement of the school building. Kensus initially thought they had remembered the ancient tunnel and had come to take refuge there, but the blood-covered vice principal denied it.

The white-haired woman told Kensus and his brother, bewildered, that they had been saved and had been guided to this place.

Kensus asked if the savior was dressed in a black robe and carried two sharp knives. She shook her head, saying it was a red robe. Behind her, the other surviving teachers and students began to praise the Emperor and the messenger of death He had sent.

Death messenger?

The ruthless one took a deep breath and began to report the matter. Coincidentally, similar descriptions of monsters wielding sharp knives, red-robed assassins, and other similar sights began to be reported throughout Sothopolis.

The Emperor's Scythes, relying on these reports, some long and some short, pieced together a rough outline of the Deathbringer's movements, concluding that he began his operation near the university and library.

Nine minutes later, he moved to the administration building four streets away and killed all the enemies who were torturing civilians for amusement inside the administration center.

Twelve minutes later, he somehow appeared at the hub of Sothopolis's underground transportation network, and then another massacre ensued.

Next came the fallen barracks, the hijacked social welfare home, and the lost second front. His footprints covered the entire Sothopolis; his speed was lightning-fast, and his methods were more ruthless than those of the traitors.

No traitor survived after meeting him; according to subsequent investigations, none of them even had a complete corpse. Beheading was the most common method of death, while some received special treatment.

For example, limbs could be severed, the abdomen disemboweled, or both legs cut off, the spine pulled out from behind the back, and the victim forced to kneel before the person they had killed, bleeding to death.

The report was quickly sealed away.

And now, the protagonist of the report, the death messenger in the underground legends of Sotha who will unleash the wrath of the God-Emperor, is walking into an orphanage.

His robe was stained with blood; the ordinary fabric, though somewhat waterproof, could not withstand the horrific atrocities he had committed over the past two hours.

More than 1,700 well-trained Astartes died at his hands one by one. Karyl calculated the numbers as he calmly walked into the orphanage.

There was no blood or corpses here; a hundred or so silent and terrified children crouched in the hall behind their headmaster and priest. A portrait of the Emperor hung behind a statue of Roboute Guilliman, his expression serene; father and son wore similar laurel wreaths.

A group of giants clad in midnight-colored armor were waiting in the shadows.

Upon seeing him approach, the leader stepped out of the darkness, lowered his weapon, removed his helmet, and shook his head with a complex expression.

"Who exactly are you?" he hissed.

As before, nothing unusual happened.

Karyl glanced at him, but didn't answer; he just took a deep breath.

I'm asking you a question--

Karyl clenched his right fist and swung a sharp knife. It pierced deeply into the man's armor, and his squad members immediately raised their weapons and pointed them at the surrounding children.

"Don't fire!" the giant roared. "Stop!"

He reached down and pulled the dagger stuck in his breastplate, his eyes gleaming with psychic energy as he faced the terrifying prospect of death.

"Where are we?" he asked, gripping his knife tightly.

Karyl called out his name.

"Fer Zalost, you're in Sotha," he said calmly. "But you shouldn't be here."