40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 675 57. Belated Judgment (Twenty-three)
Long before Serafax was born, killing had become a very simple thing.

Pull the trigger, bang, a life is gone, it's not difficult, even a child can do it easily. After the appearance of guns, they surpassed all other types of weapons, and they have never fallen behind even after tens of thousands of years.

It is a double-edged sword created by human beings themselves. Although it gives weak people the power to resist, it will also drag more people into the chain reaction brought about by violence.
However, compared to the complete killing system later created by the Human Empire, guns are just the most basic things.

So, yes, we are a race that teaches our children how to hate and how to kill. The question is, who forces us to be so cruel?

Standing in the hot and smelly wind, Serafax thought so.

A fireball streaked across the gloomy twilight and crashed with a loud bang not far behind him. The squeaking demonic beast rushed over there like a moving black cloud, and the gunfire erupted for a while before being drowned out.

Serafax didn't have to look back to know what the fireball was—a downed gunship with the four remaining men aboard, and now they were all dead, while the perpetrator feasted on them.

However, the greed and ferocity rooted deep in their souls would never be satisfied, and within seconds, this noisy dark cloud gathered again and moved in another direction.

Serafax looked back and saw a position where people were still resisting. A mortal flag stood in tatters on the top of the trench. The flames and blood destroyed its surface, making it difficult for Serafax to recognize the identity of this resistance unit.

However, perhaps it should not be described as a troop. They are just a dozen or so remnants of soldiers, and they have been dispersed and will soon die.

Serafax sighed - he had tried many times before he came here. He wanted to change his way of thinking, at least part of it, to that of the original Dark Angel.

In his expectation, this matter should not be so difficult, after all, he has been deeply trapped in madness for a long time. But expectations are just expectations after all, if everything is as simple as imagined, at least half of the evil and destruction in this world will disappear.

Of course, it could also be increased by half.

There is no other way.

The Chaos Wizard turned around and started running towards the trench, pulling out the bolter from his waist. He didn't need to aim, he just aimed at the top of the position and pulled the trigger.

Balls of fire began to explode in the black cloud, and those terrifying creatures with sharp teeth and claws immediately turned around and pounced on him. Their minds were very simple, but they were still confused - in their perception, this person actually appeared suddenly, and a few seconds ago, the place where he stood was empty, only blood and mud.
Serafax took it all in and soon realized that he'd better get rid of this part of his extraordinary evil power. For the whole plan and the role he was about to play, any mistake would be unacceptable.

He put the gun back to his waist, and drew out the power sword engraved with the knight's commandments, ready for battle. At the same time, he swept all the things that were unnecessary to "Knight Captain Serafax" into the deepest darkness.

Not only that, he was also very careful to isolate them from the energy he brought with him. The energy had to be as pure as a blank sheet of paper, and nothing could leave a mark on it before it reached the Emperor's hands.

After doing all this, Serafax began to swing his sword. He was not unfamiliar with this matter, and with the physical fitness of the knight captain in those days, the first batch of beasts that attacked him were quickly killed.

However, Serafax did not anticipate one thing - just as he was preparing to deal with the incoming second group of demons, gunfire broke out again on the battlefield.

"Fire!" someone roared hoarsely. "Cover him with fire!"

The whistling red laser rain began to explode behind the dark clouds. The power was insufficient, and it was far from causing a qualitative change through quantitative change. Some of the demons quickly turned around in anger.

Serafax was slightly stunned. He didn't believe that those mortals didn't know that doing this was tantamount to seeking death, but they still did it.

All right. The knight captain frowned and clenched his sword, rushing into the herd of beasts in two steps. As the sword flashed, it seemed as if a dirty blood rain suddenly fell.

But in just two seconds, Serafax broke out of their encirclement and rushed to the front of the position.

He leaped into the trench, and the corpses on the ground before him suddenly caught his eye - there was no time to think more, and subconsciously, he rushed to the back of the trench with his body following the mind that he had deliberately adjusted in the past.

Dark red stuff that could no longer be distinguished as minced meat or mud was flying under his feet. The surrounding scenery was rapidly receding. After four turns, he arrived at his destination. A large group of flying beasts were waving their front paws in frustration and attacking a fortification on the side of the trench.

Naturally, it couldn't hold on for long, but red laser beams still flew out from the remaining shooting holes.

Serafax's face couldn't help but darken. He didn't say anything, but drew his gun, reloaded, then aimed at them and began to call out their names one by one.

If he could, he would have chosen to strafe, but there were still survivors in the fortifications, and he didn't think that the structure, which was obviously made of cement and steel, could withstand a volley of explosive shells.
Soon, this small group of demons that harassed the remaining soldiers in the trenches were beaten into powder one by one, and then some faint shouts came from inside the door.

"Don't come out! It's not over yet!" Serafax almost roared in warning, then immediately turned around, threw away his gun, and pounced on a large black cloud that was chasing him relentlessly.

He fought intently, with the physical fitness of an ordinary Astartes, using sword, fist and will, rather than Chaos sorcery. The efficiency was naturally a hundred times lower, but for some reason, he felt a sense of peace in his heart.

A few minutes later, he sheathed his sword and pressed the last demon's corpse into the wall, crushing its bones. Then he turned and walked back to the fortification, and the group of remnants shocked him again.

There were only six of them, all wounded and covered in blood, but they showed no signs of being depressed. One of the women, who was not wearing a helmet, picked up his gun from the ground, brushed off the dirt, and took out a standard Astartes bolter magazine from her waist, and handed it back to Serafax along with the gun.

"you--"

"——Sir, thank you for your help. The entire 11th Company of the 2nd Hessman Guards Regiment pays tribute to you."

The woman saluted him, the Eagle Salute, and then began to speak. Her voice was unusually loud, as if she had lost some of her hearing, and she was unable to hear Serafax's voice, but was instead reporting on her own.

"Now, we will continue to advance towards the northern Himalayan Plateau in accordance with the predetermined order to support the fourth line of defense there."

She pointed westward.

Serafax looked down at her, then at the others behind her, and asked, "Is that how we're going?"

A man answered the woman's question: "Yes, sir, go ahead."

He patted his chest and wiped his face with the back of his hand. The eyes behind the blood looked very young.

"Are there any others among you?"

"No, we are the last soldiers of the 11th Company—" The man, or boy, smiled, and there was no fear on his face. "—But, as Lord Rogal Dorn said, we fight, that's all."

Serafax looked around and fell into an uncontrollable silence.

He had dreamed countless times of coming here at the right time to fight the just war that they were supposed to fight. However, when he arrived here by any means and with untold hardships, he found that he still lacked knowledge about this war.

He had tried his best. During the 10,000 years of betrayal, he had spent all his energy to explore the information of the Battle of Terra from all aspects. And since then, he has also been constantly deducing from different timelines.
But all this is not enough.

So, at this moment, he was speechless. The soldiers took his silence as a sign of agreement, and the boy nudged his superior with his elbow, and the woman saluted again.

She roared, "As the Emperor has commanded, we fight until we die, my lord!"

The remaining soldiers turned around and quickly went away, and soon disappeared at the far end of the horizon. Serafax stood there for a long time, until he could no longer see their shadows with his current naked eyes, and then he walked away.

He was confused and troubled. He thought he would see organized legions and auxiliary forces fighting against the demon armies, and would see the primarchs fighting on the front line, but he was wrong. What he saw most were corpses.

Human corpses, demon corpses, and the wreckage of the Mechanicus's creations. There were ruins everywhere, black smoke covered the sky, flashes of fire kept appearing above the clouds, and occasional crashes occurred.

This doesn't look like a fierce battlefield, but rather like...
Serafax took a deep breath, cleared his mind, and turned on the communication system built into the power armor. As he expected, the main communication channel, which should have been noisy, was terribly quiet, and this didn't make sense.

The Military Affairs Department stipulated that any Imperial Army should follow a fixed frequency when fighting in a mixed formation, and set it as the main channel to facilitate communication between different units. This channel should be filled with the roars and shouts of commanders, various requests for support, or urging for aerial bombing.

But it was dead silent here.

Serafax used the neural connection to control the power armor and began to switch channels. According to his memory, he began to try one by one.

First there was the bombing warning, then the take-off notification. Both channels were silent, so he turned to the more secretive channels.

The First Legion communication key stored in the power armor was immediately put online, and more than a hundred new channels were projected to the left of his eyes in the next second. The server began to check the latest news. If there was any, it would automatically summarize it and put the important parts at the bottom right of the eyepiece, so that it could be observed at any time.
Four minutes passed, and the lower right side of the Serafax eyepiece was still blank. Nothing appeared, only the boring and monotonous "beeping" sound representing the success of the inspection continued to ring.

Serafax walked out of the trench silently. He needed to contact others so that he could understand the overall situation.

The lack of intelligence was a fatal problem. Although he had assumed the worst possible outcome for the severity of the war due to insufficient intelligence, that was only his assumption. The real situation was far beyond his imagination.
If he used the power that did not belong to the 'Captain Knight' to set up a small magic circle, he could solve the problem quickly, but this would also bring many new problems, two of which were the most serious.

First, the Four Gods were watching this place, and every demon was their eyes and ears. He couldn't lose this disguise, at least not yet. Second, doing so would likely cause the energy he brought to be polluted.

With no other choice, Serafax began to increase the power of the power armor's sound source capture unit, trying to capture sounds far beyond the limit of his current hearing so as to find a direction to move forward.

At the same time, according to the information inadvertently revealed by the remnants of the 11th Company of the Hessmann Guards Regiment, he temporarily set his position not far to the east of the Terra Himalayan Plateau.

The Terra on the map is still prosperous. This holographic map drawn during the Great Crusade has many famous buildings, such as the Terra Palace, the Hessman Hive of the Guards, and the Bridge of Glory and Sacrifice.
However, he looked around and saw no palace, no hive city, and no bridges. This meant that he might be on the ground or at the bottom of the hive city, but he couldn't tell his current altitude, and the level had long since failed.

All Serafax saw was actually a scorched earth.

Of course, he was no stranger to scorched earth, as many alien homes had been turned into scorched earth and graves by the First Legion's artillery fire, but he had never thought that Terra would become like this. He was not a Terran, but this had nothing to do with his pride in Terra, which had long become a symbol, the home planet of mankind, the birthplace of language, ethnicity, and the future.
People always can't help but use a particular tone when talking about the throne world, even those who have betrayed will involuntarily lower their voices.

Back to Terra, everyone says so.

Pilgrims spoke of it devoutly, soldiers spoke of it without hope but secretly in their hearts, thieves, robbers and vagrants spoke of it in their dreams, not in public. Only a few people had been there, and those who had not been there were full of longing - and now, Serafax had become one of those few.

But he didn't have the slightest bit of pride.

This has to be reversed, he thought sadly and resolutely. Terra cannot be like this, it should not have been reduced to this. Why did our home planet break? There are so many damned things in this galaxy, why did this happen to us?
He clenched his fists and walked eastward. If there was still a need for "support" there, he might find new survivors.
-
Khalil Rohals closed his eyes and grasped a spear. The artifact trembled for a moment at his touch, as if it were alive, but soon calmed down. Then, a soul sleeping within it was quickly awakened.

"Russ." Khalil called softly. "I need your help with something." He opened his eyes and saw the Fenris man standing not far away with his hands folded, his face full of seriousness. He looked up and down at Khalil, who was covered in blood, shook his head, and asked, "What is so urgent?"

There was a hint of metaphor in his words, which, if you looked closely, could even be called "ridicule", but Khalil accepted it with a smile.

He smiled and replied, "Leon is dying."

"."

As expected, the Fenrisians remained silent for more than ten seconds, with uncertain expressions on their faces. Khalil did not urge them, but lowered his head and used a very bulky communicator to communicate with the Dark Angels who replaced him to the surface of Kamas.

The sound of artillery fire from the other end of the call was so deafening that it was incomparably noisy. Normally, after multiple transfers, the communication would be delayed by about half a minute, but this was different. Some instruments on the Lion warship made the distance between the surface and space a non-issue.

"We will end this war in half a day." The leader of the Dark Angels promised, his voice as hard as iron. "No traitor will leave Kamas alive."

"I have no doubt of it, Chapter Master, but I am afraid I must be away for a while."

"What? Now?"

"Yes—and I'll take the spear from Leon's arsenal."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a while, and Ruth looked up, his expression still serious.

".I understand." Raphael said slowly. "But I want to confirm one thing, does Lord Russ agree with this?"

Khalil looked up at the Fenrisian and saw that he was grinning, his previous seriousness gone.

"He still remembers me." Ruth winked at him and suddenly became playful again. "By the way, can I have a few words with him, Khalil?"

Khalil said nothing, but held the Spear of Dionysus tightly and closed his eyes. The next moment, Raphael heard a voice with an emphasis, like an echo, on the other end of the communication.

"I agree, Raphael. By the way, where did you put those barrels of mead I taught you to make last time?"

".Sir?" The captain asked back in a slightly bewildered manner.

"Where did you put it? I need to drink it. I haven't drunk for a long time." 'Khalil' smacked his lips and talked to himself, but there was no smile in his ice-blue eyes. "Tell me the truth, I promise I won't let you drink it all, how about it?"

Raphael took a deep breath, then reported a bunch of secret keys and a very secret location. Russ smiled slightly, said goodbye to him, and even turned off the communicator, then turned around and walked out of the armory door.

The once noisy corridor is now unusually quiet. Most of the servants have been assigned to the gun deck or the material warehouse to perform logistical work, and only a few automatic servants remain here to stand guard.

They ignored Russ and even let him run wildly in the corridor.
However, just two minutes later, Russ arrived at his destination not far from the center through a secret path that had been reserved when the Edge of Reason was first built. This was an abandoned repair workshop located in the gap between cabins. Several inconspicuous black wooden wine barrels were placed in the deepest part of the dusty tools.

They were so black that they didn't even look like wood. Ruth walked over, waved his fingers, and a breeze swept away the tools and dust, sighing at the same time.

"Psionics are useful, aren't they, Khalil?"

“I hold the opposite view.”

Ruth chuckled, walked forward, and pulled out two wine barrels with both hands. The sound of liquid shaking came from inside, and it was obvious that they were very full.

According to his past temperament, the next step would most likely be to drink heartily, but he did not do that. Instead, he reached out and removed the thick wine barrel lids, and began to tear them apart expressionlessly in the pungent smell of mead.

Soon, the wet wood, filter cloth and steel rings used for clamping were scattered all over the ground, leaving only two small golden stones in Rus's palm.

He blinked, and his eyes turned completely black again.

"What is this?" Khalil asked softly.

The Fenrisian who floated out from under his feet shook his head, leaned against the wine barrel, took a deep breath, and then answered.

"A little preparation. After the old man took the throne, he still thought about me. One year, he took time out to ask Constantine to come to Fenris and give us these two stones. He said that these were some of the materials left over from the forging of the Spear of Dionysus. If one day in the future, the spear is damaged beyond expectations, these two stones can be used as supplementary materials. Of course, the things he gave must have more uses than just this."

Ruth's eyes sparkled, he looked at Khalil and said, "Leon needs help, but you can't really go, right?"

"I can go."

"It just costs a lot." Ruth continued indifferently, shaking his head again. "Come on, do you think we haven't communicated with each other about you?"

He left the barrel and came to Khalil. Although he was much taller than him now, his posture was surprisingly humble.

"Listen to me, Khalil," the Fenrisian whispered. "You finally became a human again, so don't meddle in some things. Let me do it, okay? I've been wanting to give that old lion a good kick in the ass for a long time."

"What do you want to do?" Khalil looked up and asked calmly.

Ruth finally smiled sincerely, but after the smile, his face was full of sadness.

"Ten thousand years—a hundred centuries, and my brother has never let that damned spear go since I died. This is the first time, and this is the first time, that he is about to die."

He suddenly stopped talking and smiled again.

"Don't you think this is worth talking about? Ha, but for ten thousand years, Khalil, he traveled back and forth between Fenris and the Misty Star Region, and let me possess him once every century - do you understand?"

He squatted down and sighed.

"I can feel that he is dying." Leman Russ said in a very low voice, his face twitching, and the shadow of rage flashed across his eyes. "I can also feel that he is very tired and wants to rest, but he does not allow himself to stop."

"These subtle things are like the tinnitus in my ears when I am about to fall asleep. I tried my best to catch them, and now you are here, and you also said that you would bring the Spear of Dionysus."

"So, you know where he is, right, Khalil?"

What else could Khalil say? All he could do was nod in acknowledgment.

"Let me go, then," Leman Russ said. "Let me help him once, just once. He needs weapons, armor, food—maybe even some wine. So let me go, Khalil."

Khalil looked into those icy blue eyes.

When he was the King of Fenris, these eyes were often cunning. When he was the Wolf King, these eyes were always majestic. But now, these eyes are calm, filled with pure willpower.

I'm going to save my brother. This is the way, Leman Russ told him quietly. Please let me go.

Ok.

Khalil raised his left hand silently, clenched the two stones, and they began to deform in his palm.

The process was so silent that it was as if they were not minerals. The glittering powder fell quietly from his fingers, and a few seconds later, he opened his palm and the stone had merged into one. It twisted and looked like a golden lightning.

Ruth let out a sigh.

"Listen, Russ. I can send you there because Luther did something. But whether you can come back or not does not depend on me or any other power. You can only find your way back by yourself."

The Fenrisian grinned and sniffed knowingly.

Khalil glanced at him, then suddenly smiled and held out his left hand: "These two barrels of wine can just be kept for you to drink when you come back. How about this, Ruth?"

"Open it all!" The Fenrisian grabbed his hand and shouted. "We'll have to have a celebration party when we get back, and this little bit of wine won't be enough!"

Boom——!
A thunderous sound flashed through the Horn of Reason, but not many people heard it. Even if they did, they would just think it was a strange noise from an engine or some machinery.

Having lived on the ship for so many years, what sounds have they not heard? The servants continued to work hard. Outside the portholes, gunfire was blasting. The last bit of power of the Wanyan warship was being devoured.
Khalil let go of his hand and let the Spear of Dionysus lean against the wall. It no longer had the golden luster, and its surface was even covered with cracks. He turned and walked out of this cabin that had been unattended for a long time, and came to a porthole to look at the vacuum outside.

A few minutes later, accompanied by a burst of dazzling fire, a shadow suddenly appeared under his feet.

A voice sounded quietly: "You seem to be very leisurely, old man?"

Khalil lowered his head, smiled at him, and said casually, "If you look back now, you might still see Ruth yelling."

".What? What do you mean?"

"I mean, he just left to rescue Leon." Khalil shrugged. "Didn't you notice that?"

"You old thing!" The voice in the shadow roared angrily. "Why didn't you let me go?! What can that stupid wolf do?!"

"He will correct his mistakes, Conrad"

Khalil raised his head, his eyes were unusually gentle: "I think he will succeed this time."

(End of this chapter)