40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 772 60. Regaining Hope (XVII)
Sanguinius descended from the sky.

He didn't hold back his power or slow down, but landed at full speed. In the past, this would have been impossible.

As for the reason? One only needs to take a look at the environment around him at this moment to get a clear answer - broken ground, dozens of human skeletons blown away by the violent shock wave.
They had realized his arrival seconds ago. After all, he did not conceal himself at all and just streaked across the sky like a golden meteor. But they could never have imagined that he could be so fast.

You know very little about me, he thought.

Tens of thousands of tiny pieces of gravel were flying in all directions with explosive force, but in the eyes of the angel, they were so slow that they were almost frozen. He stood up straight, holding the sword with both hands, and slashed the sword easily and freely, turning the gravel and the target they were about to hit into ashes.

The decomposition field, specially improved by Belisarius Cawl, has several times the power of the previous one. Now, it can crush the target without actually touching it.
This was a very dangerous and radical modification, and no swordsman with a reverent regard for their weapon should do this to their own sword, but Sanguinius was different.

He is different. He is born different.

The wings were raised high, and the second shock wave followed closely. Suddenly, a terrible explosion sounded in the air, and a power sword with its decomposition field turned off pierced deeply into the ground.
By the time it was pulled out, the excessive speed and force had caused the steel sword to briefly ignite flames.

Although it lasted only for a moment, it was still dazzling. But it was just an annotation of violence, a byproduct, and it soon died out completely.
Two seconds, it exists for two seconds.

In those two seconds, Sanguinius destroyed an entire squad of Necron warriors and their vehicles with extreme violence.

The flames were completely extinguished, and the lightning lit up again. The angel turned around, and in his eyes without any mercy, he reflected the dark green shadows of several planes passing over his head, their lights flickering.

So he squatted slightly, jumped up, and approached their height with just one leap.

One of the undead driving these hovering vehicles shouted something, but it was too late. The angel pierced its reactor with a sword in one hand, and then changed the stab into a slash, destroying the vehicle without reducing its momentum. Finally, it immediately flapped its wings and rose up, avoiding the dangerous electric arc that followed.

Several explosions were heard, and the dangerous weapons created by the Undead began to wreak havoc on this flying squadron, bouncing dozens of times between them in just a few seconds.
Sanguinius frowned slightly, watching in shock as the large pool of ash was blown away by the wind.

It's really horrible. He couldn't help but sigh.

"That warrior!"

Suddenly, a voice came from the ground. Sanguinius looked down and saw a particularly tall one among the many undead.

It stood among them like a crane among chickens, wearing a set of gorgeous but slightly out of place armor and helmet.

It stood there proudly, holding a huge battle blade in its hand, and nodded slowly to Sanguinius.

"Come down! I'll wait for you here!" it shouted. "No need to say more!"

The strong wind blew the angel's golden hair, making it cover his smile. He lowered his posture, swooped down, and stood defenselessly in the middle of the undead.

Yes, Robouti Guilliman wanted him to fight on the front lines, but his personal tactical choice was more radical. He was now further back than the front lines.

But they did not attack, but scattered, leaving a wide duel arena for the undead and Sanguinius.

Without words, the battle began immediately after the venue appeared, with the Undead taking the lead, but not in the usual way - he disappeared on the spot without any signs, and immediately appeared above Sanguinius, slashing at the angel's neck with the ferocious blade.

This attack was so fast that it seemed unreal. However, speaking of unreality, who else on this battlefield could be more powerful than the Angel of Baal?

He dodged the fatal blow by leaning sideways as if he had foreseen it. Seeing this, the undead shouted like a living person, turned his arm, and slashed fourteen times without stopping. His technique was so exquisite that even the angels were amazed.
But he still dodged them all and immediately seized the opportunity to counterattack.

He took a step forward, actively walked into the best attack range of the war blade, holding the sword with both hands and making a tentative stab. Its speed was extremely fast, so fast that the undead had to give up the advantage of attack distance and actively block it, otherwise he would be stabbed in the helmet.

The arcs of the decomposition field collided with the dark green energy overflowing from the hyperphase sword. Judging only from the collision of weapons, Sanguinius must have the advantage in this attack, but the technology of the Undeads must be superior.

Soon, the electric arc was completely swallowed up by the energy. The undead immediately swung his hands horizontally, forcing the angel to retreat three steps and voluntarily withdraw from the range of the attack.

However, it did not press on.

"Someone!" it said, its voice muffled from behind its helmet, speaking High Gothic. "Bring him a sword worthy of him!"

The undead began to carry out his orders, but Sanguinius was somewhat unhappy. He raised his sword with one hand, pointed the tip of the sword at the undead's head, and then spoke in a cold voice.

"I don't need it - just come and fight."

"No!" the undead suddenly roared. "I refuse to accept this advantage!"

Sanguinius was stunned. "What did you say?"

"I refuse to accept this advantage."

The undead repeated it very seriously. It was obviously not very familiar with High Gothic, and its accent was very strange, but it would rather speak slowly and funny so that Sanguinius could hear it clearly.

By the time it finished speaking, its subordinates had also taken the sword.

It was a sword that did not conform to the size of an ordinary human or even an Astartes. It was broad and thick, without a tip, and the blade was as black as obsidian, covered with gold and green patterns.

The undead took the sword from his subordinates, held it upside down and looked at it for a moment, then suddenly snorted coldly.

"Is it true that there are no other swords in Asmefok's arsenal? How can I bring this sword to him?! What? Really no more? Well, forget it."

It shook its head in dissatisfaction, threw the giant sword in its hand lightly, making it land accurately in front of Sanguinius, and then spoke loudly.

"This sword once belonged to a shameful villain who fought in forty-nine wars in his life, but never won a single one fairly. He was extreme and mean, and would kidnap the families and even friends of his opponents before the war, and even plant bombs on innocent civilians."

"But I want you to know that although this sword once followed a shameless man, it is innocent. It is a real sword. It's just that there are no other weapons in my arsenal, so they brought it to you. If you are not satisfied, then-"

It raised its arm again and threw the blade in its hand at the feet of Sanguinius.

"--Use it to fight me! I'll use that sword!" it shouted. "This is my family heirloom, it has lasted for seven generations without being broken or damaged, it has killed one hundred and twenty-eight people, and was named the Unyielding Glory by the Silent King himself!"

Sanguinius looked down at it, sheathed it, then lifted it with one hand, waved it tentatively, and asked casually, "Unyielding Glory?"

The undead laughed, suddenly put his hands on his hips and nodded: "You want to hear a story, right? That won't work, unless you also bring me a story in exchange!"

"I'm afraid I don't have any stories for you."

"Lies!" the Undead retorted immediately. "I only need to look at you to know that you are an amazing warrior - and you can actually say such a thing? Haven't you ever experienced a thrilling battle, or met a respectable opponent?" There were many battles, but respectable opponents?

Sanguinius sighed softly, threw the blade back, and nodded.

"Yes, there is one," said the Archangel. "His name is Cabanha."

"What else?" The undead caught the heavy blade with one hand, turned it around and placed it on the ground as if it were nothing, and then asked impatiently.

"I will not say more - I am here to fight you." Sanguinius shook his head and raised the sword that belonged to the villain with one hand. "Go on, Necromancer."

"My name is Asmefok, human."

"Sanguinius."

The undead nodded slightly and raised his sword again.

"Very good." It said seriously. "Come on then."

The battle began again, and after twenty-two rounds, it was cut in half by Sanguinius with the sword.

Phosphorescent liquid gushed out of the tall undead body in the form of blood. The reactor was severely damaged and was taken out by Sanguinius with one hand.

Despite this, none of the undead around raised their weapons or pulled the trigger at the angel.
Asmefok took a deep breath and took off his helmet with trembling hands, revealing an unconscious iron face.

"It hurts--" it complained. "--Why does it hurt so much?"

Sanguinius braced his sword against it and replied, "That's what happens when you're cut."

Asmefok shook his head.

"I have been wounded many times in my memory, Sanguinius. But I always feel that this is actually the first time I have been struck by a sword."

The angel did not answer, but slowly drew his sword, and at the same time reached out to hold the half body of this strange undead to prevent it from falling to the ground. The latter chuckled strangely twice, and the light in his eyes gradually dissipated.

"Thank you," it said.

The light of the reactor went out completely.

Sanguinius stood up silently, loosened his grip, and let the sword fall to the ground. He looked around, but still didn't see any hostile undead.

At this moment, they were bowing their heads and chanting something in unison in an ancient language. The angels could not understand their language, but they could hear mourning and blessings from it.

He looked at them deeply, spread his wings, and was about to leave when he was stopped by an Undead Immortal.

"Please take the general's sword," it said with great seriousness. "This is what the victor deserves."
-
Obiang walked into a large tent and told the old general, who was leaning on a steel chair, the bad news.

"Asmefok died in battle."

The crowned general raised his head from his deep thoughts slowly, and stood up slowly as if he had just woken up from a dream. He walked straight down from the throne, but did not stop, and walked out of the tent directly.

The outside world was gloomy and deadly, and the dusty wind blew through his empty ribs, making a humming echo. The sky was lit with a deep green light, and the main force and elite of his army were making final preparations. Soon, they would come out in full force in accordance with his will.

——Yes, up to now, the troops sent by Zandrick can only be described as a kind of "test".

"My lord?" his loyal guard whispered behind him.

Zandrick turned and shook his head at Obiang.

"Give me some privacy, old friend. This news makes me very sad. Even though I have so many talented and brave men under my command, Asmefok is definitely among the best. If it weren't for his problematic background, he would have already achieved a higher position."

The imperial guard ignored the old general's sentimentality and just pointed out a problem calmly.

"Once General Asmefok dies, the chain of command at the front must be transferred downwards, but there are not many commanders who have recovered their emotions like him. I am worried that our front will gradually move back, my lord."

"This is inevitable." Zandrek said calmly. "How can our stubborn and inflexible poor soldiers fight against the elite soldiers of mankind? Just relying on the so-called advanced weapons in their hands?"

He turned around again, faced the barren land, and slowly expressed his thoughts.

"Any war is essentially a battle of wills and hearts, unless the gap in technology is so great that it cannot be bridged. And they happen to have some powerful forces that can make up for our technological advantage. I knew from the beginning that our frontline troops would not be able to hold out for long."

The royal guard, who graduated from a military academy but had never actually led troops in battle, was silent for a while and then asked stiffly.

"So you deliberately sent them to——"

"—to die?" Zandrick continued.

Obiang was speechless and had to lower his head.

"You could say that," Zandrick said thoughtfully. "Any commander has to make a choice. Some have to be the surprise troops, and some have to hold the line."

"You probably didn't learn that in the military academy, old friend. No one talks about it out loud, even though we all know it."

As he spoke, he suddenly laughed, and then shook his head, as if sighing.

"We are a group of people - listen, Obiang, what am I saying? Am I comparing myself and them to the apostles of war? We live for it, die for it, and are stained, changed, and obliterated by it. Some have become its running dogs, some have been put on its reins, and some have even become even more despicable than slaves, only concerned with seeking blood between the two armies and licking it desperately."

The smile gradually faded, and the crowned general raised his right hand and slowly clenched his fist. In an instant, the sky changed color, and a deep green death light violently lit up from the depths of the clouds, illuminating the huge shape and the countless tall shadows on the thousands of arks.

"Fortunately, we are different." He said indifferently. "We are not apostles of war, Obiang, on the contrary, if there really is a god of war in this world, then..."

Lightning struck, illuminating his figure, the clouds were torn apart, and the undead army poured out.

“It is also our apostle.”

(End of this chapter)