Saved, as If Falling into an Abyss

"Roar--!!!"

The Hive Tyrant let out a roar that was completely different from before.

The voice lacked the coldness of pure killing, but contained a hint of... release and fighting spirit?

Its nine-meter-tall body trembled slightly, as it felt a long-lost sense of freedom.

This freedom is not for escape or betrayal, but simply for—to wholeheartedly meet the challenge of the "boy" before me!

I'd give everything, just to fight you to the death!

This battle is no longer a slaughter carried out by the Hive's devouring command, but a duel between two "warriors"!

The atmosphere was momentarily romantic, but it was quickly shattered by a sword leaping high into the air!

Dante had already leaped high into the air.

The tattered Jump Pack unleashed its last powerful gust of air, propelling his battered body high into the sky.

In that instant, he felt as if he had truly grown wings, bathed in Baal's dim sunlight and the golden Psionic Energy scattered throughout the sky.

He gripped the Power Sword tightly with both hands, the tip pointing downwards like a meteor, aimed at the tyrant's hideous head!

"Look at your mother! Look at me!"

Look at Father! And look at me--!!!

Dante had never felt so exhilarated, so full of energy!

The sluggishness and heaviness of the aging body seemed to vanish without a trace; every cell was singing with joy, and every nerve was burning with energy!

He couldn't feel the vicissitudes of a thousand years; he only felt two hearts in his chest beating wildly at a youthful pace, pumping hot blood and boundless vitality!

"Clang--Pfft!!!"

The Power Sword slammed into the tyrant's thick helmet, sending sparks and fragments of armor flying!

Almost at the same moment, the Hive Tyrant's scythe-like bone claws slashed across Dante's chest and abdomen with astonishing speed!

The heavy Ceramite breastplate was torn apart like paper, and a still-beating heart, encased in the Power Armour components and bio-enhanced tissue, flew out of the body, trailing a streak of blood!

Dante's body shuddered violently in mid-air from the impact, but he merely lowered his gaze and glanced at the heart that had flown away, belonging to "Dante, Chapter Master the Blood Angels".

Just one glance.

His gaze had already returned to his original position.

But... it's just a heart.

He has one more.

A heart belonging to young Dante.

The compound eyes of the Hive Tyrant were now facing him.

"Swish! Swish!"

The Power Sword flashed again, precise and ruthless!

Using the force of his fall and the swing of his sword, Dante slashed the tip of his sword across the largest cluster of compound eyes on either side of the tyrant's head!

Thick, foul-smelling tissue fluid spurted out, plunging the Hive Tyrant into darkness and excruciating pain!

"Roar!!!"

The tyrant went mad, his remaining visual and sensory organs locked onto the direction of Dante's Psionic Energy signature.

Two enormous bone claws unleashed an impenetrable storm of death, chaotic yet incredibly ferocious!

It wants to tear apart this opponent that brings it pain, yet also strange "pleasure"!

Dante landed, staggered a step to steady himself, his single eye fixed on the raging beast, his Power Sword swirling like a wheel!

Parry, slash, dodge, thrust!

His movements were no longer confined to the sword techniques honed by the Blood Angels, but instead incorporated the most instinctive reactions and the most direct killing intent.

And a kind of... almost dance-like, cathartic madness!

Two people (or rather, one person and one beast) engaged in a most primitive, most brutal, and most... "pure" battle in this corner filled with yellow sand and blood!

There were no reinforcements to disturb them, no tactical infiltrations, only the clash of claws and blades.

The shattering of flesh and shell, and the roars bursting from both sides' throats, a mixture of pain and extreme excitement!

This is the fate of warriors!

This is precisely the significance of this battle!

Perhaps such an instinctive cry is echoing in the rudimentary mind of the Hive Tyrant.

Therefore, it "lost" willingly, even with a sense of satisfaction.

Dante carried a weight that an insect could never comprehend.

It is a deep and unwavering love and responsibility for one's mother, the land, one's hometown, the legacy passed down, and unfulfilled promises... as deep as the sea and as fiery as fire.

This love is both a curse and a blessing; both a shackle and a source of strength.

The murky liquid slid down again from the corner of Dante's intact eye, mixing with the blood beneath his visor.

Were those physiological tears?

Or is it the sigh of a soul dissipating in its most intense burning?

If someone asked him why he was crying at this moment, he might answer:

You ask me why I'm crying... because I love this land so deeply.

I don't want to hand her over to others to fight over.

I will give her everything!

Dante was weeping, yet laughing at the same time; laughing, yet roaring.

Sorrow, ecstasy, relief, resolve... countless extreme emotions intertwined and collided on his aged face.

Human language seems so pale and inadequate at this moment, unable to describe even a fraction of it!

"Come on, tyrant!"

Come on!! I'm right here!

I'm right where you can see me!

I'm right where your blade can reach!

Kill me!

Just like I want to kill you--!!!

He roared, his swordplay growing ever more ferocious, ignoring his increasingly severe injuries.

Because he knew there was one "boy" he absolutely could not lose—the boy who stood guard in front of his mother.

Whether you're facing thugs, interstellar monsters, or a cosmic catastrophe that devours everything in its path!

That boy, endowed with invisible armor and boundless courage by maternal love, will never lose!

Dante continued slashing with his sword, his consciousness beginning to fade.

He felt no pain, no fatigue, and he couldn't even feel himself swinging the sword.

All he knew was to move forward, to hack and slash, and to utterly destroy the monster that threatened his "mother"!

The Hive Tyrant had long since lost its ability to resist, collapsing to the ground, its broken body twitching slightly.

The only one "roaring" was the Hive Mind, which perceived all of this through the observation links.

Its cold, hard logic is incomprehensible and impossible to calculate!

Why did we lose?

How could we lose?

This is just a human warrior!

Even if someone is stronger than an ordinary individual, this is absolutely unacceptable!

This does not conform to the optimal solution for biological efficiency!

This is unreasonable!

Dante seemed to "hear" this silent, bewildered roar from the depths of the starry sky.

He stood there, in the dim yet still dazzling sunlight of Baal.

The damaged visor blurred his face, but this blurring actually erased the signs of age of the "Millennial Chapter Master," instead giving him an indescribable, almost holy aura.

He spoke, his voice as calm as a deep pool, yet as clear as if it were ringing directly in the "ear" of the Hive Mind, his tone deep as a prayer, yet also as if in repentance:

"Because of love, insect."

Something you'll never have in your entire life.

The corners of his mouth seemed to curve upwards again.

"At this moment... I truly feel it."

Because it... is right next to me."

He raised his head, as if gazing into the endless void, or perhaps merely at the scorching sun of Baal, and uttered his last, and softest, words:

"Everywhere..."

The moment he finished speaking, he gathered the last of his strength, raised his Power Sword high with both hands, and stabbed it fiercely into the already shattered core of the Hive Tyrant beneath his feet!

"Puff--"

The sword's edge completely disappeared.

The last trace of life in the Hive Tyrant vanished completely.

Dante's body swayed as well.

He slowly, slowly leaned back, and finally, with his back against the still-warm, enormous corpse of the Hive Tyrant, he sat down in the pool of blood and yellow sand.

His grip on the sword loosened.

Beneath the helmet, those eyes, which had witnessed a thousand years of rise and fall and were filled with tears, slowly closed.

At the corners of his mouth, there seemed to be a faint, lingering curve, a mixture of endless weariness and ultimate peace.

Dante, Chapter Master of the Blood Angels Chapter.

He died in the defense of Baal.

On the "mother" land he guarded.

A ray of holy light descended, illuminating the face that had been wailing and crying.

It was like being saved, or standing on the edge of an abyss.