40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 725 17. Catching the Eagle (IV)

The First Cast clenched his fist tightly and swung it out. Something was broken by him, and a foul-smelling and sticky liquid burst out. A large part of it fell on his arm, causing a strong burning sensation the first moment it came into contact with his skin.

He ignored it and continued to punch as if he was not a creature of flesh and blood, but a part of a divine machine made of gears and steel. A furious Titan, showing the supreme majesty of the Om Messiah.
More things shattered under his fist.

The swollen limbs were beaten and splattered everywhere, the melting flesh hung on the rotten skeleton and was about to fall, and the diseased organs fell down steaming.
Shouzhu forced himself to keep punching.

Had he learned how to fight? The answer was yes, Cawl had trained him with some specially modified combat servants. Although his skills and experience were not as rich as those of a true Astartes, they were enough, at least for the seemingly endless number of zombies in front of him.

He could kill them easily, the force generated by his movements alone was enough to tear the surface of their pale and swollen bodies and make them die again.

But Shouzhu only felt sad.

He knew who these zombies were in life. He had never seen them, but he knew they had lived ordinary and contented lives on Chemos. But now, all the beauty had completely disappeared.

The father is no longer a father, the mother is no longer a mother, their children walk behind their parents with cloudy eyes, their skin has long melted, their teeth are black, and they keep making vague sounds in their throats, as if they have returned to the age of babbling.
Shouzhu felt a dryness in his throat. He twisted the neck of the young zombie and then rushed forward, rushing into the group of zombies as if to escape.

Relying solely on brute force, he fought several rounds of killing until there were no more zombies standing on the rubble. Only then did he end the battle and retreat to the rear of the front line that he alone maintained.

Supervisor Clay Godun came over, looked up at him for a long moment, then nodded.

"You lied to me." The exhausted and bloodstained man spoke in a firm tone. "I don't think any noble can hire someone like you as a bodyguard."

"Someone like me?"

"Tireless, powerful, and swift—" Gorduin snorted. "—You know, the one who best fits this description is actually an Astartes."

The Firstforge lowered his head and looked at him. "You mean to say that I am an Astartes?"

"I'm trying to gather evidence to prove this." The inspector shrugged. "But I guess it doesn't matter. It won't be long before we all die here."

Shouzhu was silent for a moment, then said, "Not long ago, you were encouraging people, telling them that support would arrive soon."

The inspector waved his hand at him and lowered his voice: "That's just a lie. Look, we have about a hundred survivors huddled in the corner of this square and shivering. But if I didn't tell that lie and let them be crushed by fear, I believe this number would be reduced to double digits, or even single digits."

“They trust you.”

The inspector grinned and slapped his forehead comically. "No, no, my friend, they believe in my armor and the helmet on my head, so they are willing to stay here instead of running around. Oh, damn it."

He suddenly cursed, his face wrinkled up, as if he had been punched in the stomach. He trembled and fell to his knees, turbid black liquid dripping slowly from between his clenched teeth. He growled incoherently, swearing continuously, and trembling more and more violently, as if he was experiencing a spasm.

Shouzhu squatted down and tried to help him, but his hands were opened. The inspector looked up at him, glaring at him, blood gushing out of his eyes and nose, but he still clenched his teeth tightly, his throat kept rolling, as if he was swallowing the bitterness.
It was not until several seconds later that the spasm stopped, but the pain on his face did not improve.

He coughed, and tried hard to turn from kneeling to sitting, and deliberately turned his back to the crowd. At this moment, the only person who could see Clay Goldun's face clearly was the First Caster.

He panted, sat up straight little by little, and his throat made a hoarse sound like a bellows, and then he spoke hoarsely. His voice was trembling, but his tone still sounded calm.

"We're all going to die here, and that's why, Anazione. I've read about it, and it's like an epidemic, you see? We're all victims, and we're all going to get sick, it's just a matter of time."

His eyes rolled up and his whole body twitched violently. Shouzhu immediately reached out to hold him, and this time, he did not refuse.

"Oh my god."

Clay Godun murmured and shook, sweat and blood running down his cheeks. After a few seconds, he stopped moving, his eyes staring blankly forward, and he died sitting there, his right hand on his abdomen, his body leaning forward, and sticky blood oozing from his eyes.

The First Cast reached out and gently helped him straighten his helmet, then stood up and looked at the civilians. Similar scenes were happening again and again, which made him realize that what the Inspector said was true - it was just a matter of time.

Why is this happening? Did these people do something wrong?

Shouzhu bent down tiredly and sat on the ground next to the inspector. In just half a minute, no one else was breathing except him. He looked around in confusion, and his superhuman mind was also lost at this moment.
He sat like this for a long time, until some kind of shrill scream came from the sky.

The First Cast looked up and saw a new, dark sky made of steel, and thousands of points of fire rain streaking across the iron curtain.

He stood up abruptly.
-
The young Emperor's Child, Corporal Gius Solani, was in the middle of a tough fight - a real tough fight.

There was a deep gash on the right side of his helmet, as if it had been pierced by some huge, sharp object. There were two huge claw marks on his chest armor that were almost fatal, just a little short of tearing his chest and the ceramic steel apart. His right leg was numb, thanks to a sneak attack from his enemy two minutes ago. So, yes, he was now facing an extremely embarrassing dilemma.
But it doesn't matter, he still believes he can win.

The blade was extended, the decomposition field hummed, and the deadly weapon pierced through a short and fat creature that had been screaming in an instant, and also pierced through its "mount" - a one-eyed monster holding a rusty sword and screaming on its head.

After a successful strike, Kius immediately twisted his wrist, causing more rotten flesh and blood to melt in an instant, then he drew his sword, turned around and slashed horizontally, cutting a giant fly that tried to sneak attack him from the sky into two halves.

The hot juice splashed down suddenly, burning his armor and causing the zombies rushing towards him to grunt even louder. Their expressions seemed to be in pain, but also in joy, and the parts of their bodies that were stained by the juice were rapidly changing.
The corporal noticed this and immediately rushed towards them, dragging his insensitive right leg. He held the sword in his backhand and used a powerful drag and chop to instantly cut the four zombies in half.

He deliberately forced himself to ignore the Chemos clothing they wore and just focused on swinging his sword. Limbs flew everywhere, heads fell to the ground, he killed as quickly as he could, but it was still no match for the speed at which the zombies were replenished.

The huge vines that have surrounded the floating platform are constantly bringing various monsters here.
Kius realized immediately that he had to retreat, but the thought had barely occurred when another swarm of rot flies buzzed toward him.

They are huge, almost as big as half a shuttle, with poisonous stingers several meters long on their tails and forelimbs bent like giant sickles. However, the most terrifying organ on their bodies must be their huge, retractable mouthparts.
Full of fangs, dripping with venom, they could bite off a person's head with just one bite. The corporal had seen this more than once, and he knew how difficult these things were to deal with.

He swung his sword again, clearing two meters around him, and then raised his sword to the sky in a battle-ready manner, making an invitation, and then immediately dragged his lame leg to the side to avoid the first fly's dive and the attack of the hateful enemy on its back. Then he immediately backhanded a punch, breaking the head of the thing that jumped towards him without knowing whether to live or die, and then he raised his right hand diagonally with a sword, accurately and cruelly repeating the same trick, instantly cutting the second fly in half.

The hot and sticky liquid splashed all over him again, and a red warning flashed before his eyes. Kius realized reluctantly that if he did this again, his power armor would most likely be scrapped on the spot.

In desperation, the corporal had to retreat again and again to ensure that he could find a suitable angle to face the enemy head-on. But he didn't know that a group of fat and short creatures had been quietly waiting for a long time.

The creatures had their sights on him ever since he had killed one of them, and now they realized their chance had arrived.
The creatures burst into shrill laughter, leaped out of the warm corpse, and climbed up the corporal's right leg and back at an unexpected moment - crunch, crunch, crunch, they began to chew on his armor in big mouthfuls, screaming and pulling at him, trying to make him lose balance.

One or two might not be a problem, but there were at least a dozen of them. The corporal fell down, but he was still fighting. He crushed a small monster to death with his left hand, and then pounded another one with his fist, but it was no use.

A giant fly had aimed its poisonous stinger at him and was now swooping down at great speed.
At this critical moment, the corporal still tried to raise the sword. He accepted death, but he would never allow himself to die in this way. He must maintain the honor of the Emperor's Children.

Unfortunately, the group of little monsters that had overwhelmed him didn't think so. They giggled and quickly climbed onto his right hand. Five or six of them together pressed his right hand so hard that he couldn't use any strength.

The corporal roared with bloodshot eyes, but he could only watch the flashing tail needle getting closer and closer to him.
Until a muffled sound like thunder was heard.

What was that sound? This thought suddenly flashed through the corporal's confused mind. He shouldn't be distracted at this moment, but he had no choice because the sudden appearance of the sword light had already taken away all his attention.

The same thing happened to the little monsters who were busy torturing him. Their screams and laughter suddenly disappeared, and they all fell silent, as if they had seen their natural enemy.
The corporal finally came to his senses. He gritted his teeth, grasped the sword, and exerted force to break free from the restraints.

However, before he could raise his sword, the fly that was sliding towards him was suddenly split in two and fell to the ground quickly, as if it had hit some invisible sharp blade. Then the little monsters on his body trembled one by one, let out a cry that was almost like crying, and quickly fled.

A hand pulled him up from the ground.

"Don't get too deep into enemy territory when fighting them," a calm voice warned him. "They are not as slow as they appear."

Kius looked up, wanting to express his gratitude, but he saw a completely unfamiliar Astartes.

The other party was wearing an unusually simple set of dark blue old-fashioned power armor, with almost no decorations or marks of honor on his body. Only his left shoulder was painted a special silver color, engraved with a blade emblem that Kius had only seen in the information, and there was also golden lightning on the edge of the shoulder armor.

Through the reflection of his scarlet eyepiece, the corporal finally saw what he looked like at the moment. But why did he need such evidence to prove his embarrassment and inexperience?
He nodded silently, then patted his chest and saluted, and spoke rather impatiently.

"Thank you for your help. Are you Nightblade's battle brother?"

The battle-brother glanced at him and shook his head. "I know what you are thinking, Corporal, but I'm afraid you will be disappointed. My Legion is not here."

"What? But—?"

"My Legion is not here," the battle-brother repeated to him. "But that does not matter. Look up, corporal. Support is on the way."

Kius shouldn't have done as he was told, but the man's voice sounded so steady and reliable that he looked up unconsciously.

He saw a dark iron curtain, an iron curtain surging like a living thing. No, that's not right, it was alive. It was a torrent composed of countless steel and machines.

The corporal looked at it in shock for several seconds, not realizing that the surroundings had been quiet for a while. When he lowered his head, the Astartes who suddenly appeared had disappeared. No matter how he looked around, he could not find any trace of him.

Could it be that I saw a ghost? The young corporal couldn't help but think so.

(End of this chapter)