The people's way lay in embracing all, in enduring renewal, and in knowing that the water that bore a boat could also overturn it. Death was part of the people's lives, but it was not everything. Those who tried to suppress the people through death were doomed to fail.
Evan had yet to fully grasp this way, but he had already set foot upon it.
Karkarim was utterly dumbfounded. What in the Skull Throne's stinking shoes was that bullshit? You fed me a load of nonsense, and now I can't hurt you?
If hitting you myself doesn't work, I'll hit you with a pillar!
Looking at Evan, who wore the Baina Robe like a cape, Karkarim seethed with rage. He grabbed a broken steel beam nearby and swung it at him.
Evan was just as stunned. You can do that?
And so the Bloodthirster chased Evan around with a steel beam, making him leap and scramble like a fly being swatted.
The Greater Daemon had figured it out: all he needed to do was attack Evan with matter from the physical world. Steel beams were only the beginning. He picked up a damaged Dreadnought, four and a half metres long, four metres tall, and over two metres wide, like a pebble and hurled it at Evan. Evan barely dodged it and ran to a wall. The Greater Daemon breathed black flames, instantly burning away its foundations, and that enormous wall toppled straight toward Evan.
Karkarim was having the time of his life. He nearly tore down the ceiling to hit Evan with it, grabbing all sorts of strange objects and throwing them: a Helbrute—a World Eaters Dreadnought—the corpses of Terminators, fragments of shattered alloy barricades. Whatever he found, he threw.
Meanwhile, the surviving Techmarine of the Shadow Blades and the Storm Will's Chief Apothecary were searching for the remaining Chapter relics. Having confirmed that the relics could harm the Bloodthirster, they were gathering as many as they could. After collecting several, the Techmarine suddenly shouted for the Apothecary.
"Apothecary, get over here! Someone's still alive!"
The Apothecary rushed over, taking the distance in great strides.
It was the Shadow Blades' Grand Master Librarian. Karkarim had hit him with a fireball, but he was a Librarian, after all. His thin psychic shield had absorbed some of the damage. Unfortunately, he was still gravely wounded and unconscious.
"Apothecary, how is he? Can we save him?"
"It's doubtful. His injuries are too severe. Without a ship or medical equipment, are you confident you can inter him in a Dreadnought here?"
Well... The Shadow Blades Techmarine looked at the Dreadnought wreckage scattered across the floor. There were enough materials, but these conditions... The Greater Daemon wasn't dead yet, and fires were still burning nearby.
"It's too dangerous right now. Give him emergency treatment first. We'll find a way to banish the Greater Daemon."
"True." The Chief Apothecary smiled bitterly. How hard would it be to kill that thing? Every corpse strewn across the floor belonged to someone who had fallen fighting.
That created a paradox. To banish the Greater Daemon, they needed the Librarian's help. But to treat the Librarian, they had to keep the Greater Daemon from discovering them. Even interring him in a Dreadnought would take a long time. It simply wasn't practical.
But staying here accomplished nothing either. A battle-brother was still fighting the Greater Daemon. The two could only try to harness the relics' power and join the battle.
They couldn't get through the wall of fire. They would have to take another entrance to reach the other half of the chamber.
After administering emergency treatment to the senior Librarian, they picked up their clattering collection of relics and ran toward another passage. Both were prepared for their souls to return to the Golden Throne.
Unexpectedly, when they reached the other side, wreckage blocked their path. Even the passage's ceiling had been blasted down. There was nothing for it but to dig. They had to clear enough debris for someone to squeeze through, at least.
And so the two technically minded Adeptus Astartes began their stint of hard labour.
After hopping around for a while, Evan was almost out of jump-pack fuel. This wouldn't do. He would have to fight head-on.
Karkarim swung downward, smashing the steel beam into the floor. Evan seized the opening and charged up along it. His left shoulder had just taken a serious injury, so Evan leapt with all his strength to attack... his right foot.
Karkarim watched Evan leap. You can neutralize force from one side, but can you neutralize it from both? He brought both hands together in a mighty clap aimed at Evan, as though squashing a mosquito.
Evan fired his jump pack toward the ceiling, its two nozzles ejecting their propellant upward. The tremendous downward acceleration sent him instantly back to the floor, right beside the right foot Skaro had previously hacked into.
The green-glowing Chainsword instantly severed the rest of the half-cut foot.
This time, Karkarim truly fell. His entire daemonic body toppled straight backward, his right leg instinctively lifting as black blood spurted from it.
Evan seized the opportunity. The Chainsword's green glow brightened as he charged forward and leapt into a slash in one fluid movement. Then... a steel beam sent him flying.
Using his tail in place of his right foot, Karkarim supported himself and advanced toward Evan, step by step.
Evan lay sprawled facedown. He felt as though several sections of his fused rib cage had broken, and the front plate of his Power Armour was probably shattered completely. Various drugs were rapidly injected into his body to stabilize his injuries.
"Let's see what tricks you have left this time."
The painkillers and sedatives in his Power Armour took effect at once, and Evan quickly regained his senses.
The Bloodthirster raised the steel beam and prepared to smash it down on Evan. This time, he would crush that hateful white tin can into a meat patty!
"The same one as last time, of course." As the steel beam was about to strike, Evan could even feel the fierce rush of air it drove before it.
His jump pack ignited instantly, sending him skimming along the floor. Its powerful thrust carried him beneath the Greater Daemon's crotch. The bloodstained tail temporarily serving as his right foot still bore the cuts Deika and Skaro had left in it.
Evan spun on the spot and swept the Chainsword through a full, slashing arc.
There. This time, Karkarim really couldn't get up. Black blood spurted from his severed tail and right foot.
Both lay on the floor, panting heavily.
"Heh, big guy, you never learn, do you? I just cut off your right foot with that trick, and now you hand me your tail to cut off too. Is something wrong with your brain? Want Nurgle to take a look?"
"Heh, that steel beam hit pretty hard, didn't it? Can you still move, little fly?"
And so the trash-talking began. The two held warm, friendly discussions on their respective ideologies and physical fitness. The atmosphere was lively, memorable remarks abounded, and both the venerable Emperor and the hapless Khorne had plenty stripped from their dignity.
A Warp creature like Karkarim could fully recover from his injuries with nothing more than a little exposure to the Warp's light. But this was the physical world. There weren't enough mortal followers performing sacrificial rituals, nor enough living mortal Chaos Cultists. The barrier between reality and the Warp was quite substantial.
Karkarim tried to sit up and launch a fireball at Evan, but a sacred shot from Evan's Ion Pistol struck him in the head, knocking the fireball off course.
Evan pulled the Baina Robe he had been using as a cape out from beneath his left hip and tied it to the other end at his right shoulder, forming a makeshift bandage.
Evan struggled to his feet, and the Bloodthirster sat up as well. Although the Greater Daemon could no longer move around, he could still breathe flames at Evan, forcing him to circle again in search of an opening.
Karkarim had realized that Evan lacked sufficient fighting power. He could only target existing injuries and inflict heavy damage by attacking those wounds. That yellow tin can blasted a big hole in my left shoulder earlier. This big white tin can will probably attack it next. I need to set a trap for him.
Evan was pondering the same problem. He didn't have three hands, so he couldn't compensate for his insufficient killing power by using more weapons.
Evan charged again. A high-speed burst from his jump pack carried him past the swinging steel beam, and he slashed at the left shoulder.
Karkarim secretly rejoiced. Bracing himself with his left arm, he rapidly shifted backward until he sat against the wall. His right hand grabbed a damaged Dreadnought.
Evan's sword struck the left shoulder, and he saw a massive Dreadnought hurtling toward him.
Karkarim intended to use the large hole in his left shoulder to "lock" Evan inside. With a wall on one side and the abandoned Dreadnought on the other, Evan would have nowhere to escape. Then he would be completely at Karkarim's mercy.
Evan had never intended to attack the left shoulder. It was the old tactic of feinting one way and striking another. This Bloodthirster really never learned. No wonder someone had already chopped a chunk off his horn.
Ah, wait. I cut it too.
Although the green-glowing Chainsword was lodged in Karkarim's left shoulder, Evan had no intention of pulling it free. His previous experience fighting Orks had taught him that even a moment's hesitation could mean death.
His jump pack fired one last high-speed burst, then overloaded completely.
Evan leapt straight onto the Greater Daemon's head. He gripped the Golden Power Sword with his left hand and the Dark Gold Chainsword with his right, hauling hard to pull them out of the Greater Daemon's horns.
"What are you trying to do, you little bastard?" Karkarim's roar echoed throughout the Battle Barge, but a note of panic had crept into it.
Evan pulled both swords free and slashed downward without pausing.
"Fun fact: you've got a wound on your face too."
Evan slashed along the scar stretching from the Greater Daemon's left eye to his mouth, reopening it. The two powerful Chapter relics widened the wound enormously.
Karkarim opened his mouth wide, intending to breathe flames and cut off Evan's retreat. Evan dropped the Golden Power Sword, drew his Ion Pistol, and fired straight into his gaping mouth.
The pale-blue ion shot reached the Greater Daemon's mouth before he could unleash his flames.
A massive explosion engulfed Karkarim's huge head. Evan could no longer make out his face through all the black smoke.
"Surely he's dead for good now." Amid the swirling smoke, Evan was ready to begin his post-battle wisecracking.
A huge steel beam hurtled toward Evan with a fierce rush of air.
"By your Emperor's woolly sweater, why won't you die?"
"Here's a lesson for you. Even if a Warp creature's physical body is destroyed, I can still control it as long as my Warp energy remains. Whether I have a head doesn't matter at all."
This thing had no weakness. Unless Evan battered him until he could no longer move, or waited for his Warp energy to dissipate and his soul to return to the Warp, there was no other way.
Karkarim was deeply puzzled now. Normally, with injuries this severe, Khorne's blessing would already have begun healing him. Yet his connection to the Warp seemed to be growing weaker and weaker. What was going on?
(Baina Robe: heave-ho, heave-ho, heave-ho~~~)
What now? Two arms and one leg left. Keep chopping, I guess. It's not like I can surrender.
Evan felt miserable. What kind of lives do ordinary people in Warhammer 40,000 lead? Does the Imperium have to fight absurd things like this every day?
The good news was that the enemy really could no longer use his fireballs or Warp roars.
The bad news was that he was still swinging that steel beam with terrifying vigour. When I build warships in the future, I'm definitely not using steel beams.
Evan shuffled and dodged. His jump pack was unusable, so he could only fight up close.
"Come out, you little brat!"
"No." Crunch, crunch went the sounds of chopping flesh.
"Get out here and die!"
"Nope." (He chopped even harder.)
"Come out! I'll tear you into ten thousand pieces!!!"
Evan burrowed beneath Karkarim's crotch and hacked furiously at his left leg. The Dark Gold Chainsword's machine spirit seemed to have entered a frenzy, its little teeth shrieking.
Seeing that his left leg was about to be sawn off, Karkarim threw caution aside and thrust the steel beam straight at him.
There really isn't time to saw through it, but I've got an Ion Pistol.
One shot later, there we go: two arms left.
Karkarim simply couldn't understand it. This wasn't a Grey Knight, nor one of the Adeptus Custodes, and certainly not a Blank. Why aren't you affected by the Warp at all?
Normally, just looking at me would expose you to severe corruption from Khorne. Why does this guy act like nothing's happening?
Evan was rather confused about that too. Do I even have a presence in the Warp? I'm a genuine Earthling. Can my soul have a projection in this world?
The fight had to continue, but after sacrificing over a hundred warriors' lives, the Space Marines had finally gained an overwhelming advantage.
Honestly, Evan felt rather sorry for this Greater Daemon. He had been getting beaten ever since he appeared. A hole had been burned through his left shoulder, then his two huge wings had been blasted off. His horns had taken two sword strikes, his right foot had been cut off, then his tail and left leg. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear... He couldn't think about it any more. His mental conditioning was starting to burn. If he kept thinking, his head would explode.
There was no denying that the improved Space Marines Belisarius Cawl had created were impressive. Their thoughts were very effectively constrained.
When the two pitiful, technically minded Astartes finally dug through the entrance and charged in, ready to lay down their lives, they saw something they would never forget.
Evan was hacking away with both swords, blood pouring freely from his chest. The Baina Robe over it had turned black with blood, but he paid it no attention.
Karkarim's head was gone, its fragments scattered everywhere by the explosion. There was even an eyeball at their feet. His right foot, left leg, and tail lay severed across the floor. Black blood had stained half the flooring.
As this ferocious Primaris Space Marine hacked away, he shouted:
"This one's for Gajie! This one's for Squad Leader William! This one's for Instructor Fro! This one's for Deputy Squad Leader Kshevich! This one's for Chapter Master Deika! This one's for old veteran Morgkin..."
Under the relentless chopping, the Greater Daemon's left arm finally gave way and came off. Was a Greater Daemon with only one arm of any use? No.
Karkarim was utterly enraged. He had finally managed to enter the physical world, yet forget eating and drinking his fill-even if he returned to the Warp after this battle, he would need two or three hundred years to recover.
I'm a Greater Daemon! Khorne shaped me himself! Why hasn't the Brass Throne's power healed any of my wounds?
The two warriors didn't stand around gawking. Anyone could kick an enemy when he was down. The Storm Will's Chief Apothecary shouted, "Chapter Master Skaro, I'll avenge you!!!" and charged in, howling.
Not to be outdone, the Shadow Blades Techmarine brought out his collected assortment of weapons-no, relics. They hacked from day into night, then from night into day. The warship's wreckage had been drifting through space for more than thirty hours before they finally stopped. By then, the Greater Daemon's torso, his previously severed tail, and everything else had been chopped into mince.
The three collapsed, gasping for breath. The Chief Apothecary had treated Evan's wounds earlier, but after that intense competition in the knife-skills division of the master-chef championship, they had reopened. He had no choice but to bandage Evan again.
The blazing hellfire subsided. Grievously wounded, Karkarim returned to the Warp to draw little circles and curse Evan. The three Astartes struggled to their feet.
The Chief Apothecary and Techmarine intended to try interring the Shadow Venom Blade Chapter's Grand Master Librarian in a Dreadnought. Doing so without specialized equipment was extremely dangerous, but now they could only make a desperate, last-ditch attempt.
Evan wandered around alone.
Those thousand-odd Chaos Astartes were escorting something. Where did they hide it?
He wandered east, then west, checking the command room, the reactor, and the storeroom before returning to the hall where the final battle had taken place. Where on earth had they hidden it?
Let's analyze this from the beginning. Anything hidden would have to be in the most heavily guarded place, so that has to be here. But this place is empty. Everything's been smashed to pieces. All there was in the middle was an altar that summoned the Greater Daemon. Where could anything else be?
What else is characteristic of a treasure's hiding place? Think. Hurry up and think.
Treasure. Valuable. A safe.
Right. Wherever treasure is hidden has to be sturdy and hard. Evan looked around. What sturdy places remained after that battle with the Greater Daemon? The wall had been smashed underfoot-although Morgkin had done that-the ceiling had been torn down, and every kind of barricade had been pulverized.
Wait.
A place that hadn't taken much damage from explosions, the Greater Daemon's hacking, or blows from steel beams...
The floor!!!
It has to be hidden underground. Definitely. Hurry up and look.
And so Evan cleared the entire battlefield like an old ox ploughing a field.
The Chief Apothecary and Techmarine stared, dumbfounded. This kid was far too diligent. They had only just finished the operation, and before their senior Librarian Dreadnought had even awakened, he had cleaned the whole battlefield?
Well, look at that. The Power Swords and Power Armour were stacked in neat piles.
Evan finally found an entrance beside the altar and called the two technical specialists over.
Obviously. I'm a complete newbie who just got here. How would I know what's treasure and what isn't?
The mechanical door creaked open, revealing a passage leading downward. The Chief Apothecary looked anxiously at his patient. They had done everything they could. Now it depended on his own will. Although he remained deeply worried, intense curiosity drove him to follow the others down.
Glass jars. So many glass jars. Row upon row of glass jars. The Apothecary's eyes went wide. My heavens, so much gene-seed.
The Chief Apothecary darted back and forth before Evan, almost leaving afterimages as he performed a bewildering series of procedures. Evan stared, stupefied. You didn't move this fast in battle.
"Gene-seed! Pure gene-seed! More than 120 of them! My heavens, they're pure! No wonder they came here instead of staying in the Eye of Terror."
Chaos Space Marines also used pure gene-seed to create Astartes. It could be bought from certain Rogue Traders with no regard for their own lives. But so much gene-seed...
"Which Space Marines is it from?" the Shadow Blades Techmarine asked.
"It appears to be from the Luna Wolves." Well, that explained why those Black Legion fellows had come all this way. Still, with this much pure Luna Wolves gene-seed, had they robbed an Imperial warehouse?
No. That isn't right at all. This little lot wouldn't warrant an escort of over a thousand Chaos Astartes. There has to be something else.
Search. Keep searching!
Before you continue