40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 679: 61. Interlude: Wolf-Lion God (Part )
For Leman Russ, he would never forget the days he spent on Fenris.

Yes, everyone has a hometown. Yes, the hometown of the original body is more noble. Yes, hometown is a place you must leave even if you miss it.
But Ruth won't leave.

He howled in the wind when the migrating tundra cattle huddled together for warmth on the winter snowfields; he drank blood in the weapons when one tribe launched a raid on another; he was also present when the stars rose in the daytime, the fires brought chills, and the deformed monsters and the dead bones that emerged from the soil with the arrival of spring looked at the living passing by with their empty eyes.

No one could understand this feeling, no one. Not his sons, not his brothers, not even his father could do anything but try.

Countless winter days, barrenness, desolation, brutality, violence, and nightmares. People living on this land need to endure almost all of this to barely survive, and usually do not live long.
Even if they managed to survive the winter, they would be killed in the spring by another group of hungry and ill-clothed people. Then, the people who killed them would be chopped down by another group of hungry people with axes or long knives.

A spiral.

Didn't anyone try to change it? Yes, of course, but they all failed.

So, what about Leman Russ?

A Primarch, one of the most noble men in the galaxy, holding unimaginable power. As long as he gives an order, countless people will come from all over the galaxy to follow his wishes and transform Fenris into a normal and peaceful world?
But Ruth said, no.

Riemann of the Rus tribe once said to his father: I have no right to do this.

Why? Where is the answer? Is he a sadist who enjoys watching the people of his homeland suffer? Or does he believe in some cruel philosophy that only those who have experienced the cold winter can stand out? Or does he simply not think so much?

The Fenrisian reached out and called down a mighty gust of wind.

Suddenly, a heavy axe appeared in the palm of his empty left hand. It didn't look very sharp, nor was it a battle axe that could chop off helmets and break bones, but just an old small hand axe.

For a Primarch, it was even slightly comical - but that did not detract from the violence he was about to use it with.

Russ dropped his spear, and a giant wolf raised its head and bit it. Another wolf walked over to Lion El'Jonson, its eyes fixed on another place in the wind and snow.

Neither it, nor its companions, nor Leman Russ, looked at the hunter and the king. Their eyes fell on the depths of the snow, on the edge of the Fenrisian winter.

Russ raised his axe high.

This was the first gift he received in his life, given by the last king of the Rus tribe. The axe had an ironwood handle and plateau steel, and the best craftsmen were specially hired to carve 25 amulets to drive away evil spirits on the axe blade.
And now, they were glowing, a blazing light, as if bursting from the deepest depths of hell.

The axe fell with a heavy, dull thud, as if chopping wood or smashing someone's bones, and it didn't sound like a sharp weapon entering the body at all.

However, a blunt axe should make this kind of noise. It can still bite through flesh and blood. Although it is no longer as smooth as it was in the past, it is still a weapon after all. It can still kill, but the process will be longer.

The victim will not get a quick death under it, but can only beg and scream until the killing is over.

Yes, that's what Ruth is doing now.

But who is he killing? Or what?
The hunter stared with wide eyes at the figure in the wind and snow who was stunned by the sudden injury. His eyes began to well up, and the emerald was gradually covered by bloodshot.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his bone spear and rushed into the snow.

One thousandth of a second later, accompanied by a huge explosion, the thick snow curtain that almost formed a white cloth covering the surroundings suddenly broke into a big hole. A bone spear pierced the chest of something, forcing it to hunch down with a roar of pain, which was exactly what the hunter wanted.

He swung his right fist upward heavily, knocking out half of its fangs. Then he stretched out his strong arm, grabbed the twisted horns on top of its head, and slammed it down rapidly.

With another loud bang, the snow flew everywhere, and sticky and hot blood spilled all around, corroding the snow into potholes. Hot air rose up, followed by a painful roar.

Only then did the hunter's voice reach the king's ears like a gloomy and angry wind.

"demon."

demon?

The king couldn't help feeling a little confused.

He had been here for a long, long time, long enough to know the lives of other people, but he had never seen any demons here. In the king's cognition, this was an isolated island made by Serafax himself, isolated from the world, with only them and other endless dead on it.
But he soon became aware of some clues - having led his army to fight against Chaos for so many years, fighting against his brothers who died but could not rest in peace over and over again, the king's knowledge of Chaos and the Warp had already reached a level that ordinary people could not even imagine.

Of course he knew that everything in the real world would affect the subspace, and then the subspace would in turn affect the material world.

And here.
He raised his eyes and looked around.

With so many dead people, what kind of thing will their deaths create?
I couldn't have missed this unless
The king's expression grew more gloomy.

With a swish, he drew his sword and slowly walked towards Lion El'Jonson, who was surrounded by two giant wolves. Facing their wild vertical pupils, the king simply raised his sword.

This is a very gorgeous one-handed sword, worthy of his status and completely suitable for being wielded by a king, but for a warrior, it is still a little lacking in maturity.

But the king didn't care now.

He suddenly rushed forward, his cloak fluttering. The scarlet was reflected in the wolf's eyes, and snowflakes fell behind him, covering up the sword light just right, but they could not cover the blood and the screams of something.

"Back off!"

The king held the sword in one hand, stood in front of the skinny but unusually tall monster, and gave it an order. His majesty was gone, but his killing intent was strong enough to cover his aura. Suddenly, one of the wolves growled.

A snowstorm came, and the demon disappeared, bleeding.

"Leman Russ!" the king raised his sword again and shouted. "I ask you to share your intelligence with us for now!"

Hearing this, the Fenrisian who was holding his axe and waiting for the next arrival of firewood couldn't help but laugh out loud. Even though it was such a weird and bloody moment, he laughed unusually loudly.

But after laughing, he actually spoke.

"What other information can you share? You are more familiar with this place than I am, and that thing is undoubtedly a demon - just kill it, do you need a reason?"

"It's not your ordinary demon"

The hunter broke through the snow and walked back to his original position, his whole body covered with smelly and hot blood.

He said expressionlessly, "I have killed too many of the Four Gods' followers and I can smell their unique stench. This one smells different from all the others. I am going to skin it."

"Of course I have to kill it, but what consequences will killing it cause?"

The king asked this question while staring at the snow curtain. His shoulders were already covered with white snow, and the snow water melted by his body temperature slid down his cheeks and wet his gray hair, making him look dejected and helpless.

Ruth grinned.

"very good."

As he spoke, he turned around and acted as if he didn't care at all about the monster that might appear again at any time. He even raised his axe and pointed at the king from a distance a few times, and then immediately started talking as if he had been holding it in for a long time.

"You asked a very important question. It reminded me of a story I once heard. The protagonist of the story came from a tribe that has disappeared, but his name is still circulating. Later generations call him the Big Belly Man. But this is very strange, right?"

"He is neither a warrior nor a priest in the tribe, let alone a chief or elder. He is just an idle lazy guy. Whenever hunters or warriors return with a full load, he is the first to get close, shamelessly following them and shouting and celebrating, as if all this has something to do with him—"

"--You're going to tell a story at this time?!" The king couldn't help but roar, his hair and beard standing on end. At this moment, he was very similar to the man Rus was familiar with.

The Fenrisian laughed from ear to ear, for this was the second time he had seen this reaction. He nodded and immediately continued.

"In short, the big-bellied man is not very popular in his tribe. Although he is a little strong and knows a few tricks to chop people, has he really done anything? Nothing, he has never won any honor. And what about shame? Alas, he doesn't even have a little shame on his shoulders."

"The children in the tribe sometimes even called him Tawusi, which means "a man with nothing". But the big-bellied man never cared about these things. For him, as long as he had wine to drink, food to eat and a smelly, warm fur cloak to sleep in, he didn't care about anything else."

"Many people have objections to this matter, but the fat-bellied man has lived too long. The longer he lives, the more stable the life of the tribe will be. So, people tacitly accepted this matter and planned to keep the fat-bellied man until he died."

"But suddenly one day, the tribe was defeated. One hundred warriors went out to plunder, but less than twenty returned. Everyone was dejected, and the chief even felt like the sky had fallen when he saw this. He went to find the priest, but the priest didn't know what to do. The whole tribe began to cry - people knew in their hearts that they would not survive this winter."

"Only the Big Belly Man was the same as usual. He pulled the children who liked to play with him together and began to dance in celebration at the entrance of the village and sing cheerful songs, just like in the past. The children were soon taken away by the adults who came over. The defeated warriors also walked up to the Big Belly Man with grim faces, wanting to teach this shameless man a lesson."

"But no matter how the warriors beat him, the big-bellied man never fought back and even kept smiling. Finally, an enraged warrior stabbed his big belly with a knife and shouted: Let's see how you can still laugh!"

"The crowd froze for a moment. No one expected something like this to happen. In the tribe, this is an absolute taboo. Even the man who did it was stunned and looked a little regretful. But the big-bellied man was not dead. He even got up from the ground in high spirits."

"He took the knife stuck in his belly, lifted it up, and cut open his belly with a "pop" sound, but there was nothing inside. People were terrified, and even the priests began to shout, "Evil creatures, go away."

"It was not until this time that the Big Belly Man spoke to them, and his tone was as kind and humorous as usual. However, he no longer called himself the Big Belly Man, but called himself Taus. He told the people of the tribe that he had a way to help the tribe survive the winter."

"The chief immediately asked: What can we do? Tawus laughed, threw down his knife, and ripped open his belly. A strong wind blew, and the blood and flesh of the people gushed out of their skins. Amid endless screams, Tawus stuffed them into his belly."

"Taus left like this, leaving behind only a pile of shrunken human skin, but he did not disappear. On the contrary, he always existed, and every idle person in the tribe might be robbed of his skin one day."

The cold wind was howling. Rus finished his story with satisfaction. The king frowned and said, "So, this is a fable?"

"More or less," Russ replied with a smile. "Almost no one has actually seen Taus, but at least no one is really as idle as he is. As a warning, this story is very successful, isn't it?"

"But you have more to say than that," the hunter said, pulling out two bone knives from his belt. They were not big, just the size of skinning knives, but the blades were carefully engraved with the Imperial Sky Eagle.

Russ looked at him and nodded. "But I have seen Taus. It is an evil spirit that was sealed under the abyss of Fenris. When I killed it, its stomach gushed out enough human corpses to flood a river."

"It seems that there is another world in its stomach, a world that is empty and void, and it doesn't even digest those people. They all died of starvation, old age, and disease. Its hands are filled with various scrolls that record warnings for future generations."

Before he finished speaking, the dull sound of chopping wood rang out again. Without any warning, Russ's voice was even steady, but the axe in his hand had already sunk into the neck of a demon.

Blood splattered and the fangs of the Fenrisians gleamed.

"How is it? Does the continuation of the story sound familiar?" he asked softly.

The hunter and the king looked at each other and gripped their weapons tightly in a serious manner.

(End of this chapter)