Emperor's Bane

Chapter 999 The Reaper (12)

My name is Nikonna-Sarrokin.

Redemption Alien.

He was just an ordinary Raven Guard, one of the 280,000 Freedom Fighters.

In the Legion, I was never known for my outstanding abilities or remarkable achievements, but even so, I was fortunate enough to gain the trust of the Father of Genetics and learn the true art of shadow and the art of killing under his tutelage.

Education should be provided to all without discrimination, and everyone should be treated equally. This is a concept that our Primarch has long upheld, and it is also the real reason why the Nineteenth Legion is so powerful.

I have benefited immensely from this, and it is only natural that I should shoulder greater and more difficult responsibilities:
Following the Primarch's orders, reaping the enemies he sees?
Of course, I'd be happy to help.

Although I didn't understand why we had these Death Guards as enemies—they were indeed fighting against Holy Terra, but their actions were far from true betrayal—not only me, but many in the Legion, even the elite soldiers handpicked by the Primarch, were equally perplexed about the real reason for going to Taran.

But an order is an order.

Since the Death Guard can launch an attack on Holy Terra without knowing anything in order to carry out the orders of their Gene Fathers, and spread the war to innocent worlds like Taran.

So it's only fair that we take our blades to the ravaged Taran in order to carry out the Primarch's orders and reap their heads there.

At least, that's what I think.

By the Primarch's command, I shall make the Death Guard bleed.

On Taran, their blood and souls will be the best fertilizer to revitalize this land.

……

In the name of the original.

Fifteen minutes ago, Sharokin had just claimed his thirty-sixth trophy in this war.

He was a captain of the Death Guard, who looked like a veteran of the Great Crusade. His shoulder armor bore medals from the battles of Ulanor and Zaramond, but the other Death Guards around him did not seem as experienced as him.

The encounter with their prey was an accident: hundreds of Death Guards in ten helicopters happened to pass over their base of operations hidden deep in the rainforest. Although their destination seemed to be further away, the Raven Guards decided to devour the small group after a brief discussion, just to be on the safe side.

The Borei-type anti-aircraft missiles, dismantled and modified from the Dreid, were as effective as ever. All the enemy helicopters were shot down at the same time. Those Death Guards who were lucky enough not to die in the fall were immediately in the Raven Guards' scopes upon landing. The reason they did not kill all of them immediately was that they needed to observe these Taran invaders more closely.

And the sons of Corax did indeed make some discoveries.

As mentioned before, the company commander leading this Death Guard was definitely a veteran, but the riflemen and machine gunners under his command were unbelievably naive. They seemed to have never experienced real war, perhaps because they were not from Barbarossa, or perhaps because they had been stationed in remote parts of the world for a long time. The Death Guard's characteristics were not visible on the faces of these recruits.

They would joke, be carefree, and have romantic fantasies about the war before them: this was enough to show that this was the first time they had been caught up in a life-or-death struggle.

Sharokin had heard that while the Death Lord's gene seed was stable and reliable, it was not prolific. Therefore, their recruitment process took even longer than that of other legions. But most importantly, the Fourteenth Legion always adhered to its notoriously strict selection criteria, but never developed a more rational and standardized process like the Ultramarines or the Dawnbreakers.

But it was precisely under these unfavorable factors that Mortarion was able to nearly quadruple the size of his legion in just half a century, from more than 90,000 to 330,000: and the new recruits at the front of Sharokin, who were unfamiliar with warfare, were perhaps the price of this miracle.

They were indeed well-trained, and it was clear that their daily standards were extremely rigorous, but they had no concept of war.

They also didn't realize how cold-hearted they needed when their brothers were killing each other.

Shooting them through the head is a form of salvation: it spares them from seeing the more despicable truth.

But for Sharokin, what mattered more was killing the seasoned company commander and immediately shifting positions to surround the Death Guards who had also fallen: he didn't care about the fate of the recruits and soldiers; his gun was only aimed at the commanders, those junior officers who were senior sergeants, company commanders, or veteran legion soldiers.

These men, who had participated in the Great Expedition and were skilled at commanding squads of dozens or even hundreds of men, were the true capillaries of the Astartes Legion. The mission of Sharokin and his men was to do their utmost to eliminate them: until the casualty rate of the Death Guard's junior officers on Taran became so high that their command could no longer tolerate it.

This was not a difficult task for him.

……

Dodging the Death Guard's bombardment is a piece of cake.

Dark green Thunderhawks, Stormbirds, and Valkyries flew over the light green treetops, constantly spitting fire at any suspicious targets while carefully avoiding any means that could kill them: this was the Death Guard Legion's immediate countermeasure after realizing that there was hidden danger in this dense forest.

But to Sharokin, these ordinary means of firepower were ridiculously rudimentary. Although they had only arrived a few weeks earlier than the Death Guard, that time was enough for them to familiarize themselves with the terrain of the Taran rainforest.

More importantly, through their close collaboration with the hardworking Imperial Fists over the past few weeks, they have already established their own kingdom in the rainforest.

The most combat-experienced Raven Guards are responsible for scouting the rainforest for the best hiding spots, planning where to set up their bases and storage centers, and where to leave exits and hideouts; while Imperial Fist and their highly skilled construction teams will ensure that every idea they propose is implemented to the fullest extent.

When the first Deathguard warship appeared in Taran's near-Earth orbit, these newly built underground fortresses, with their cement walls not even fully dried, were still enough to shelter them from the bombardment from the sky: as the noisy planes gradually disappeared into the distance, they would emerge from places the Sons of Mortalian dared not even dream of, and continue their harvesting of Deathguards in the dense forest.

As long as they continue their advance into the Tarán interior, this harvest will never end.

This time, what came into Sharokin's view was a squad of Death Guards coming from the water.

It seemed that after the losses of the previous two days, Mortarion's offspring had learned their lesson. They no longer tried to grope their way through the rainforest, but instead used boats to quickly transport and deploy their forces, following the rivers with clear directions and open views. The heavily armed ships sailed brazenly past Sharokin, but their destination remained firmly in his sight.

As it turns out, as fellow Astartes, they share many similarities with the Death Guard: for example, on the riverbank, there is a towering cliff overlooking dozens of kilometers around, and they had long ago set up lookout posts or hiding places on it, because there was no more suitable vantage point nearby.

And Death Guard clearly thinks so too.

As the ships anchored at the shore, hundreds of Sons of Mortarion disembarked. They commanded their mortal servants and conscripted Tarran civilians to carry building materials for the settlement, while they themselves continuously expanded their perimeter.

If their sentries were willing to venture a few hundred meters deeper into the dense forest, they should be able to find the more than sixty Dark Raven Guards hiding there.

As usual, although the Death Guards occasionally swept past their hiding place, the lurking combat brothers did not rush to attack. Each of them focused half of their attention on their opponent and the other half on Sharokin.

They awaited Sharokin's gunshot, awaited his bullet to pierce the enemy leader's skull: only then would the call to launch a full-scale attack sound.

Salokin, on the other hand, is identifying.

At this point, two days had passed since he killed the squadron leader who had fallen from the helicopter.

In other words, today marks the third day since the Deathguard Legion officially launched its ground offensive against Taran.

For the past three days, small-scale battles between the two sides in the dense forest have never ceased. The Death Guard is trying to establish a stable base and advance inland, while the Raven Guard is putting up a fierce resistance while hunting down Mortarion's best warriors in the jungle.

In this regard, they achieved remarkable results.

Take Sharokin as an example. In the past three days, he has killed more than 300 Death Guard sergeants and at least 140 mid- to high-ranking officers: including two confirmed company commanders, more than a dozen armored officers, standard bearers and battalion advisors, dozens of technical strategists and pharmacists, and countless squad leaders, and the reconnaissance detachments and tactical squads under their command.

In these battles, Sharokin never made the mistake of indiscriminately killing innocent people. His bullets were only aimed at those of high value and importance, while ordinary soldiers and civilian auxiliary troops were left to his combat brothers to deal with.

In the dense forests of Taran, there were hundreds of Reapers like him who only targeted high-value targets. Although they were not all elites like Sharojin, they still inflicted unimaginable heavy losses on the Mortarion's offspring in the first few days.

Of course, behind such a great victory, the Raven Guard also suffered losses.

Although the Death Guards are arrogant and clumsy, they are not lambs to the slaughter. In just three days, the losses of the Raven Guards deployed on the front line made Corax, far away on Redemption, frown and secretly consider whether to send more reinforcements.

Faced with the disappearance of squad leaders, technical strategists, and apothecaries in droves, the once arrogant Death Guard Legion quickly matured: as Sharokin's gaze searched among these new prey, he discovered a very interesting problem.

Compared to the soldiers I encountered a couple of days ago who proudly displayed their medals of honor, these new Death Guards, while still maintaining a hierarchical order, had their armor uniformly repainted. Apart from marking their legion and company, there were no other markings that indicated their personal identity or honor.

Moreover, those well-hidden locations have been subtly equipped with several light artillery pieces, as well as a larger number of machine gunners and heavy weapons teams than before: things the Death Guard wouldn't have cared about before.

But at least for Sharokin, this level of progress is not enough to bother him.

For the next minute, he observed the Death Guards, who were working enthusiastically, like a wolf observing a flock of sheep from the grass. They stood in formation, each had their own duties and division of labor, their expressions when they talked, and even their every unconscious movement. In an army that was used to strict discipline and hierarchical structure, these seemingly insignificant details would always reveal valuable information.

He first identified the commander of the heavy weapons unit, followed by the commander and his deputy. These Death Guards, accustomed to the imposing presence of their troops, were clearly uncomfortable with this clandestine behavior. Watching the commander and soldiers on the other side try so hard to conceal their deeply ingrained hierarchical structure as they communicated, the comical sight made Sharokin want to laugh.

As it turned out, they were not Raven Guards.

They also cannot achieve true equality between officers and soldiers.

Finally, he set his sights on a Death Guard standing on the perimeter: without a doubt, he was a new recruit who had not been in the army for long, because he had a smile on his face that was out of place with the Fourteenth Army, just like the unfortunate guy who had died at his hands two days earlier.

He was considered by Sharokin as a last resort, because recruits like him couldn't keep secrets: when the commander he anticipated came to the recruit, Sharokin's finger was already on the trigger.

He checked the location and status of the people he needed to personally intervene in one last time, then looked at the recruits.

When he turned his head and saw that his superior officer had come up in front of him, although he tried his best to hide it, his legs still subconsciously came together, and his two heels made a crisp knocking sound: this was a private standing at attention and saluting when he saw his superior officer.

Upon seeing this, the crow that heralded the death no longer hesitated.

He lowered his head slightly.

"boom!"

"boom!"

"boom!"

------

This part of the story is a bit long. I only had time to fix these parts before midnight. The rest of the story will be released after midnight.

In other words, there's another chapter coming up later, which will probably take more than an hour, so you can read it in the morning.

(End of this chapter)