40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 687 69. Belated Judgment (Chapter 8, K long chapter, I didn’t update it in the past two days because I was stuck, I’m sorry)
Serafax is no stranger to assault bikes.

Even though he didn't deal with it very often during his time in the Legion, he was a Dark Angel after all - the prototypes of the tactics, methods of warfare and even the characteristics that each Legion excelled at could be found in them.

However, even so, he did not expect that the White Scar brought by the War Blacksmith would drive such a motorcycle.
Is this really an assault bike or any variant of it? Serafax couldn't help but wonder.

In front of him was a huge machine with extremely strong and thick front armor. Like an attack motorcycle, it was equipped with a side bucket for the second Astartes to ride. However, the heavy weapons that should have been carried on it had been removed, leaving only bare aiming holes.

Moreover, it did not have any paint job belonging to the Fifth Legion - if you had to say it, the only paint job on its iron-gray surface was dark bloodstains and countless scars.

Bullet holes, dents, knife marks, charred areas caused by explosions, and holes and pits left by strong acid corrosion.
"You'll have to wait a bit."

A mechanical priest said. The red robe she wore was brighter than the one Serafax remembered, and seemed to be soaked in blood.

Three huge wheels stood beside her, almost completely blocking her. Several servo arms extended from the priest's back, performing maintenance work, but the speed was not fast.

"I don't remember my patience being so poor, Father."

An oriental face answered like this. His face under the warrior braid seemed to be smiling, with the corners of his mouth raised. But if you look again, you will find that the so-called bend is actually a small scar.

In his mind, Serafax tried to throw away this smile that was shaped by steel and blood, and what he got was a very cold face. Every detail was tempered by war, and there was even a strange and inhuman feeling.

If anything, his face looked like an ancient battle mask, handcrafted by a craftsman who knew the fragility of human nature, with the sole purpose of making the enemy feel fear when facing it.
But his tone was quite gentle.

"There is no necessary connection between the importance of the task and your patience," the priest replied.

A robot servant staggered over from behind her, its skin dry and muscles atrophied, like a long-dead corpse. It raised its hands stiffly, and the gears inside its joints creaked. A mechanical arm extended from the priest's back again, immediately dismantling the robot servant's arm and beginning to examine its internal structure.

Serafax didn't care about it at first, until he heard a muffled groan, as if it was trying to hold back pain. The Dark Angel turned his head in disbelief and saw that the servitor was actually opening its mouth and making a continuous hoarse sound in its throat.

Bai Scar, who was standing nearby, immediately noticed that he turned his head.

"Isn't it strange?" He asked in a unique tone of mockery and pity, his eyes narrowed. "I suppose, even as a Dark Angel, you have never seen any servitor like this before?"

“Indeed,” Serafax said. “That surprises me.”

"Oh, then I have my sympathies, brother." White Scar shrugged, making a helpless gesture. "You will see hundreds of similar weird things in the future."

He did not explain what was going on with the servo, and ended the conversation, walked straight to the motorcycle, and began to check its engine. The priest seemed to acquiesce to this, and she was busy checking the strange servo.

Serafax walked to her side and looked down at the disassembled arms and parts of the servitor, and found that they were covered with semi-coagulated plasma. This was obviously not the servitor's own doing - besides, it was not any kind of combat servitor, and there was no chance of it being stained with such blood.

The Dark Angel admitted that he was temporarily distracted by this little puzzle, but the priest seemed to be used to it.

She ignored any blood stains that shouldn't have appeared and turned a blind eye to them, which was completely contrary to the curiosity that her status should have.

Serafax watched the servo arm behind her dance, cleaning every bit of blood, straightening the mechanical structure, and aligning the disassembled parts with the reserved flesh and blood interfaces one by one.
Then, the mechanical servant's stiff and lifeless eyes suddenly blinked.

After the maintenance was completed, it turned around stiffly and left.

"Does this happen often?" Serafax asked, choosing his words carefully.

"Always."

The priest threw out a word and turned his attention back to the wheel hub of the motorcycle. Soon, the problems were checked one by one. The dents were knocked back, the cracks were welded shut, and as for the scratches all over, they were obviously not within the consideration of this loyal believer of Ohm Messiah.

She ignored these obvious minor problems with indifference, and with a turn of the servo arm behind her, she lifted the wheels completely and installed the giant motorcycle, and finally the tires that had just been cleaned by the other two servitors. The flesh and broken bones stuck in the gaps had been dug out and scattered all over the ground, emitting a pungent smell of chaos.

"It's solved." The priest turned around and spoke to the White Scar who was still waiting. "You can start your mission. May Om Messiah bless its engine to roar forever."

The latter nodded at her with a half-smile, jumped on the motorcycle, and snapped on his helmet. His power armor and this behemoth really complemented each other, and both were covered with scars.

Serafax sat in the sidecar thoughtfully, drew his gun, and placed it just above the armored fender. Then, the motorcycle's engine roared suddenly.

The sound was unlike any motorcycle engine Serafax had ever heard before, and even at low power, its deep rumble sounded like the roar of a monster.

Bai Scar ignored him, turned the car around, accelerated and rushed out of the position.

This vehicle is much faster than ordinary assault motorcycles, although not as fast as jet-powered hoverbikes. However, considering the size of this vehicle, the technology used in its engine has probably never been mass-produced.
The more Serafax thought about it, the weirder it seemed. Strangely, the engine noise gradually became quieter. Just as he was about to ask why, he heard White Scar's voice slowly ringing out in the communication channel.

"You're going to the palace, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"It wasn't a good place to go in the past, and it's even less so now. I'm curious, what on earth do you want to do there?"

".How can you describe the palace like that, cousin?"

White Scar turned around and shook his head at him.

"I have always been quick to speak and to the point. This is my character, and also my disease. The Khan once predicted that I would die in this matter, but even so, he admitted that I could always get to the heart of the matter - so this is the existence of the palace, cousin."

"Admit it." White Scar chuckled. "Admit it was never a good place."

"why?"

"Because the Emperor ordered it to be built only to shape his own authority and reflect the power of the new political system of the Empire. The truly precious things in the palace are the people who guard it, the imperial guards, the seal holders, and the emperor, but not the palace itself. It doesn't deserve it, and its glory comes from humans. Without them, it is just a pile of broken bricks and stones."

Serafax was silent for a few seconds, then said, "I haven't asked for your name yet?"

"Xun-nu," Whitescar uttered the two awkward syllables, and added, "You can call me Swift-Wrath - Khorchin is always difficult to find a suitable counterpart in Gothic, cousin."

When he said the word cousin, he seemed to smile again.

The surrounding scenery flew by, but it could not escape the dead black and cruel red, which were everywhere. The sound of the motorcycle engine gradually became detached, evolving from silence to a sharp hum.

Serafax held his gun tightly, bracing for the bumps as they drove over corpses, through forbidden areas, lost lines, and places where flags had once stood, finally coming to a stop in front of a pile of ruins.

The dark angel looked sideways, but could not see any light. The darkness was spreading and encroaching wantonly in the ruins. However, something bigger was unstoppably outlining its own lines behind it.
Is it a wall? Serafax asked himself, and then immediately rejected it. He didn't think that a wall would remain after such a war. However, the lines were so clear that he couldn't help but frown.

He jumped out of the sideslip, his steel boots hitting the ground, stirring up a puddle of dust.

"It's getting worse." Xun Nu extinguished his fire and spoke softly. "The last time I came here, I could still see some flames of battle."

"Have you been to the palace?"

Xun Nu did not give a direct answer, but just patted his chest, seemingly too lazy to answer the question.

Serafax soon realized how stupid his question was - it was normal for the White Scars to appear anywhere, so the Swiftfury must have worked with his brothers as a rapid reaction force to support the Palace on this front.
Unless their commander is a fool, he would rather force the Chogorians to go against their nature at this critical moment of life and death, and then discipline them and trap these eagles in the battle line to fight a positional battle.

"In short, you must be careful, cousin." Swift Fury said. "Now, it's time to say goodbye - I wish you a happy battle."

The roar of engines began again, smoke rising high from the spinning tires, and the White Scars shouted loudly, issuing a war cry in the language of their homeland.

The tone was completely different from the noble and elegant tone he used to speak in High Gothic. It was full of guttural sounds and sounded murderous. Then there was a swish, a flash of silver light, and a scimitar was raised high in anger.

He rushed into the darkness without fear, and before leaving, he helped Serafax attract the attention of those who might be watching.
However, it was only at this moment that Serafax remembered that he had not yet introduced himself to Swiftfury.

This incident connected his memory and quickly pushed other things to the surface. It can be traced back to the banquet of the great victory of Ullanor, when he was drinking the specialty wine from Macragge and talking with two officers of the logistics department.

It was perhaps one of the few times in the empire that identity or rank did not matter, and everyone could express themselves. Dancing, fighting, telling jokes, and even kissing on the spot, and then asking their superiors to witness the oath of loyalty they were about to take.

Therefore, such a conversation took place at that time. It was a bit excessive and would have caused great trouble in another occasion, but it seemed reasonable at that time.

Serafax remembered that it was after three rounds of drinks when he asked the two officials which Astartes Legion they found easiest to deal with.

They were already very drunk, but still vaguely said they could not answer the question. However, despite this, they could accurately say who was the most difficult to deal with - the wolves of Rus and the eagles of Jaghatai.

Then they complained a lot about the logistical wrangling with the two legions and what a waste of time it was.

One officer even said that he was assigned to be in charge of the ammunition supply for a campaign of the Fifth Legion, but the White Scars never contacted him once, and it was not until a full year after the victory of the war that they sent him the relevant report.
And, there is one more thing, the White Scars pay a lot of attention to etiquette. The official said so. Although they are mysterious and look like barbarians, they really pay attention to this, Serafax.
But I didn't even tell him my name.

Looking at the direction where Xunfu was going away, Serafax was extremely confused - not only that, until this moment, he suddenly realized that White Scar had not even asked about this matter.

why?
The Dark Angel suppressed his doubts and turned around, walking into the darkness with light steps. The surroundings were unusually quiet, even too quiet, with no sound of wind. But Serafax's eyepiece told him that the place was crowded with people.

It was constantly sending annotations: left rear, right front, straight ahead, above the head, under the feet. The lines were dancing, and the thermal imaging and night vision modes were constantly switching. In the end, it even entered combat mode without Serafax's permission and began to passively conduct tactical analysis.

The servers were running at high speed, and the constant humming sound like a whisper came one after another, drowning out Serafax's own heartbeat until it became an almost terrifying mysterious atmosphere.

The Dark Angel paused, then drew his sword.

At this moment, his vision was filled with lines that kept jumping, and one "person" after another was walking busily. Some of them seemed to be guards, patrolling with guns in hand; some of them must be believers who came to see the miracle, bowing every three steps.
Serafax frowned and looked around coldly, wondering which stupid sneak dared to show off his skills in front of him, a truly evil person.

But what sounded in the darkness was not any inhuman roar, but a distant sound that seemed to have traveled through time.

"Serafax of Caliban," a man said very softly, very quietly. "You are sentenced to death."

The words had barely been spoken, and the syllable had barely reached 'this' when a whistling sound of wind was heard in the darkness.

With his combat experience, Serafax immediately determined the direction from which the wind was blowing, raised his gun with his left hand and shot, while raising his sword with his right hand to block - he was prepared, and it could be said that he was well prepared, but the attacker was clearly better.

He used some strange long-range weapon that could fire something like a bullet, but it couldn't be blocked. Serafax clearly felt the impact of the bullet hitting the decomposition field, but there was a loud bang in his ears.

The blue light went out, the force field collapsed on the spot, and the power sword was knocked out of his hand by the huge recoil force. But this was not the end, the sound of wind continued, his eyes blurred, and the whole person suddenly fell backwards, as if hit by a huge force.

The syllable comes to the word "death penalty".

Four figures emerged from the darkness, holding dull blades in their hands, but they had no heartbeats. In Serafax's perception, the four people who attacked him were not even alive.

But no matter what, they seized this opportunity and thrust their blades into his power armor at a speed that surpassed that of an Astartes and even common sense - piercing through the armor plate and reaching deep underneath. The location they chose was very particular.
A piercing pain came from beneath the black shell, and the neural sensing device had been completely destroyed.

The Dark Angel roared, clenched his fists, ignored the pain, and stood up abruptly, but the four attackers were not going to let him go. It actually took him less than one-fifth of a second to stand up, but in that one-fifth of a second, his power armor was torn into pieces, and the armor plate was as brittle as paper in front of those blades.
With a few bangs, the heavy object fell to the ground, and the sharp blade protruded and entered the body again, blood splattered, and the Dark Angel froze in place with his eyes wide open, and all the muscles in his body were passively locked. The knife is poisonous.
He realized this immediately, but he had not given up the fight. He glanced around, trying to see the identity of the attacker, but the unknown toxin had other effects, and it took effect very quickly, causing his vision to deteriorate in just one second.

Not to mention seeing the attacker clearly, he couldn't even focus on what was in front of him.
Moreover, muscle locking and vision loss are only the first symptoms, and other senses follow closely, one after another.

The Dark Angel knew something was wrong and had already made a rough guess about the identity of the visitor - if it wasn't the Assassin's Court, what other force could it be?

They had executed a complete set of tactics against the Astartes so easily, with their disguise, prepared weapons, and displayed combat power all impeccable. Thinking of this, he even admired these attackers a little, but he couldn't.

The Dark Angel tried to focus.

The poisons were still spreading, but they had no power over him.

This had nothing to do with the laws of physics or human physiology, or even the Dark Angel himself. What really played a decisive role in this battle was the willpower of a Chaos Sorcerer named Serafax.

Then the Dark Angel slowly sank down into the depths of his heart, and the Wizard himself took his place and began to speak.

"Who sent you..." He controlled his body, tongue, throat and lungs. "- to kill me?"

The assassins did not answer, but the sound of footsteps answered his question. The wizard looked up, and his restored vision helped him see an extremely pale face in the darkness.

He was obviously not born with this complexion, this skin color was sickly, originated from the owner's long period of not seeing the sun. He had no hair, no hair at all, and his lips were extremely pale. Under his high brows were a pair of eyes that were as calm as those of a dead person, and his irises were inhumanly different.

"You have no right to know this." The man said slowly. "But you were able to break free from the influence of the 'needle' and kill him."

As soon as the words fell, four sharp blades pierced into Serafax's vitals without hesitation. Two pierced into his forehead, one on the left and one on the right, and two pierced into his heart, then cruelly stirred until the feeling transmitted back by the blades turned into a sticky paste, and then stopped.

However, the wizard's eyes were still open, and there was not even any blood flowing from the wound.

"You shouldn't have given that order."

He said this sincerely and seriously, and the man just raised his right hand expressionlessly and threw out a small jar.

The powder inside it spilled all over the Chaos Wizard, causing him to feel excruciating pain the moment it came into contact with him. No, it seemed that it was not just that simple, the powder also blocked something else.

"The ashes of the untouchable?" He asked with his brows furrowed, enduring great pain.

The man finally narrowed his eyes, then raised his right hand and made a decisive move. One of the attackers immediately swung the blade and stabbed it into his own heart. When he pulled it out, the knife was already shining, and a silver object covered the entire blade.

The wizard lowered his head and stared at it, watching it enter through his jaw, feeling it quickly reach his brain stem.
Unspeakable horror befell at this moment.

His skin began to dissolve, then his muscles, bones, everything. The attacker fell to his knees, his wounds sparkling with silver liquid at first, but were soon covered in blood.

His companions drew their guns and pointed them at him. After three shots, the body was shattered. Then they used the promethium flamethrower and strong acid liquid. The whole process was extremely skillful. They did not stop until his existence was completely wiped out.

And looked towards the last remnants of Serafax.

They held the spray gun and the glass bottle filled with corrosive liquid and walked towards him. Unexpectedly, a voice rang out again from the melting flesh and blood, carrying a strong warning.

"Don't do this again, you must--"

"——evil creature!"

The person who gave the order shouted a rebuke, only to see a man instantly stand up from the flesh and blood, unharmed.

Apart from losing his power armor, he seemed to have not suffered any injuries. This scene of violating the experiment fell into the eyes of the person who gave the order. It was real, absurd and realistic, but it did not surprise him at all.
In fact, the Chaos Sorcerer could only see one emotion in this man's eyes.

furious.

"How dare you desecrate the sanctity of humanity like this?!" the one who gave the order roared, and a gun fell from his belt as his wrist shook and was held in his palm.

The wizard didn't know the model and data of the gun, but he could feel a chill like a thorn in his back from its dark muzzle. However, he did not retreat or dodge. Instead, he stood where he was and took the blow head-on.

The missile, which was much smaller than an ordinary bullet, was accurately shot into his forehead as the person who gave the order bent his fingers. There was no room for blood to splash because it was not made of metal.

Green smoke rose up, and the stench of burnt flesh and blood spread quickly. The Chaos Wizard raised his hand to touch his forehead, but his fingers did not touch anything, only emptiness.

He was a little surprised and wanted to say something, but he found that his eyes suddenly went dark. No, that's not right, it wasn't dark, but he lost his eyes - then his nose, jaw and other parts of his body except for two fingers, the two fingers he had just stretched out.

Half a second later, a new Serafax quickly grew out of the broken section of the finger.

"Incredible." He said to the person who gave the order in amazement. If you read his expression carefully, you can actually read some joy on his face. "Does the Empire have the ability to produce such a weapon?"

The expression of the person who gave the order suddenly turned gloomy, but he did not shoot again to waste ammunition. He just gestured to let the remaining three assassins return to him.

The Chaos Wizard smiled and nodded at him, then spoke again: "You are not capable of killing me."

The assassins remained silent.

"At least for now, right? I think all the solutions you have have been tried on me, so can we come to a consensus?"

"What do you want to say?" the person who gave the order asked coldly.

"You can't kill me now," the Chaos Wizard replied slowly. "But I can be your prisoner until you find a way to kill me--"

"--ridiculous."

The one who gave the order interrupted him with a sneer, but the wizard remained patient. He wanted to say that all he was prepared to ask in exchange for his freedom were a few questions, but the one who gave the order was evidently not prepared to listen.

Besides, he didn't need to listen.

The Chaos Wizard stopped talking and looked up at the sky. Ever since he arrived at Terra with his fabricated personality, the sky here has always been dark. But not now. Now, the dark clouds covering the sky have dispersed.

The dark clouds of war all dissipated, and afterwards the sky was like the embers of a fire. A scarlet crown emerged silently, as if it had existed since time immemorial, indifferently radiating its brilliance.

No, are those really lights? More like flames, right?
The wizard took a few steps back and turned his head to look at the four assassins, but they had already disappeared. The cold wind whistled, blowing away the darkness and sending bricks and stones flying. The outer corner of the palace finally appeared in the wizard's eyes at this moment, but he was not happy about it.

Because the outer corner now looks complete.

It has not been destroyed, polluted by demons from hell, blown to pieces, or stained with the blood of innocent people. Its gold color still shines, and civilians worship under it, feeling the cold breeze of the Himalayas in the early morning.

Black-armored guards in charge of patrol and security moved among them, and from time to time they would stop for some respected elders to inform them which religious scholar would come to preach that day.

Many Astartes in bright yellow armor stood on a watchtower not far away. Countless airships and aircraft flew across the sky, filling the air. The transportation transfer station set up in the sky was announcing the maximum stay time in a mechanical voice.

Surrounded by clouds, a gleaming golden giant stood on the top of the mountain, overlooking it all.

The Chaos Wizard took a deep breath, not daring to look again, and sank quietly, almost at the fastest speed to switch the Dark Angel back to the dominant position.

When Serafax opened his eyes, he saw this shocking spectacle. He instinctively widened his eyes and was unable to utter a word for a moment.

But people turned a blind eye to him, and only the scarlet crown that shouldn't have appeared remained. It fell right above this harmonious scene, like a program error that shouldn't have appeared. It was absurd, bizarre, but real, and it pierced people's eyes.
Fortunately, Serafax soon understood why it was here.

Because the sky began to change color.

Countless fireballs streaked across the sky, carrying the heat of hellfire, landing not far away, shaking up a bloody frenzy. The ground beneath my feet suddenly turned into a mud pit, and the evil power of the warp continued to boil, swallowing up countless pilgrims like a swamp. Seemingly sacred songs came faintly from the shadows under the city wall, and one twisted figure after another rushed out of it, grabbing people and tasting the sweetness of their flesh and blood.
How long will it take to destroy the Terra Palace?
Serafax had his answer at this moment: one minute.

Yes, one minute.

In just one minute, the harmony and peace he had witnessed were gone.

Countless killings, devourings and tragedies occurred alternately, and it was as if the fast-forward button was pressed. Even the Astartes' reaction speed was overwhelmed - by the time Serafax realized what was happening, despair had already strangled his throat deeply.

The ruins and darkness returned and enveloped him.

The dark angel knelt down silently, tears welling up in his eyes.

How could this happen? Why did this happen? He wanted to ask the question, but an indescribable coldness had locked onto him, causing him to tremble instinctively.

A bright red light shone in the darkness. The dark angel barely raised his head and gazed, just in time to see the flaming light illuminating the darkness around him. Countless people who had died tragically stood up from it and walked towards him.

What is this? Serafax asked himself, or more precisely, asked the other person in his heart. But that person didn't answer at all.

The Chaos Sorcerer was busy hiding the immense power he brought with him, and had no time to answer the Dark Angel's questions, so he could only rely on himself.

Many speculations were quickly born: Is it a ghost? Or some kind of monster? A kind of demon?
He had no clue at all, so he could only run out of the encirclement and run wildly in the ruins like a headless fly. But they seemed to be everywhere, and no matter where Serafax ran, he could not escape the gaze of their burning eyes.

The gaze was unfocused and dead, but it made him panic for no reason. The deep shame and pain pierced the heart of the Dark Angel, making him want to kneel down and repent.
But he couldn't, he wasn't allowed, so he had to keep running, and running, until he was exhausted and could no longer go on.

He eventually fell into a deep pit.

This place seemed to have been bombed by a huge amount of artillery fire, and the degree of the ground depression was completely incomparable to the surrounding area. However, no matter who designed the building that once existed here, its designer must have had some obsession with "solidity".

Because, even at this point, a little bit of it still remained, and at this moment, it was flashing before Serafax's eyes.

A hint of gold.

The Dark Angel rushed over and pushed away the masonry that buried it, and saw a small half of a broken eye, which was exactly the remains of the Emperor's statue he had seen before. Although there was only this little bit left, it was still as big as Serafax himself.

Staring into those golden eyes, the dark angel actually burst into tears.

He had felt something.

A golden light suddenly appeared, taking him to a new world, and a voice calmly reached his ears.

"I heard from them that you wanted to see me?"

(End of this chapter)