40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 817, Section 14: Walking with Fire (Part 6)

Alvin was used to taking a pessimistic view of many things, but at this moment he had to admit one thing—even in his worst-case scenario, he had never seen such a situation.

If someone could foresee such a scene with insufficient information, then they themselves are probably quite problematic.
Ravenguard used his innate agility to dodge the attacks of several black arms, then fired several shots in a backhand motion, shattering their master's head into a jumbled mess. He then immediately retreated, soaring through the quiet streets of Hesiod like a sheet of paper in a whirlwind, and leaped onto the roof of a detached house.

He quickly surveyed his surroundings, his eyes seemingly frantically marking hundreds of targets in those two short seconds.
He sent the number into the communication channel, and the salamanders, knowing what he meant, quickly sent a message.

This matches the number of residents in the residential area.

There was nothing else, and they were unusually calm, but Alvin could almost see the rising anger of the dragon's children.

He twisted his chin, letting his canines clink together, a sharp sound flashing behind his helmet, but the anger in his eyes was extremely obvious and undisguised—watching the lanky figures staggering towards him, he left his crouching position, stood up, and then pulled two grenades from his belt.

"Requesting the use of weapons of mass destruction," he said over the communications channel.

[Permission granted. Similar questions need not be asked again.] The response appeared immediately. [Additionally, a squad is moving towards your location.]

"receive."

As Raven spoke, he pulled the pins off the two grenades, their ancient trigger mechanisms revealing the ingenuity of the Salamanders. Alvin tossed them into the swarm of slender humanoid figures, unleashing flames like monsters in quick succession.
But the effect was not as good as he had expected. The dozen or so monsters closest to the explosion pounced on it the instant the flames erupted, as if they were actively seeking death. Their actions were so swift and decisive that it was unbelievable, and they certainly did not seem to be without mind.

Crow Guard frowned, put the bomb gun he had raised back down, and immediately disappeared into the shadows.

Kolus Corax's talent surged within him, though it was weakened to an unknown degree, but this clearly supernatural power still allowed Alvin to reach his predetermined tactical location—the rooftop of another house—without their knowledge.

He leaped from the rooftop, landing on the soft grass, then sprinted towards the nearest black humanoid creature, cleaving it in two with a single stroke. He then grabbed its upper body, including its head, before fleeing once more.
When he reappeared, he had already entered a small alley.

He threw down the half-corpse, stepped on its writhing hands, and asked without much hope, listening to the rapid footsteps approaching him.

"What exactly are you?"

Asking the enemy such a question at a time like this makes him want to laugh.
As expected, he received no answer, and they had already arrived, surrounding both ends of the alley from the front and back.

Alvin leaped up again, his left hand piercing into the solid, high-grade synthetic material, then with a sudden burst of strength, he jumped, pulled himself together, and crashed through the French windows into the roof of a beautiful three-story villa.

He had never fought in such an environment before, and the ordinary furniture in front of him stung him like poison.
"We have arrived." A voice replaced the message, ringing out in the communication channel. "Disengage immediately, Sergeant Alvin. I repeat, disengage immediately."

Crow Guard frowned, but did as he was told, even though entering the shadows for the third time in a short period of time would put some pressure on his internal organs—by the time he swallowed the mouthful of blood and walked toward an troop carrier, the raging flames had already engulfed the entire residential area.

But what came from the flames was not the sound of gelatinous flesh and blood, but a genuine human scream.

Beside the troop carrier, two fire salamanders in rather plain armor instinctively took a step.
"Stop!" A warrior in ancient power armor immediately shouted, then ordered two other veterans wielding promethium flamethrowers. "Speed ​​up."

His voice was extremely cold, and the Crow Guard knew that this was a last resort.
The man wasn't wearing a helmet, but the shadow cast by the iron halo couldn't conceal the subtle twitches on his face. Faced with Alvin's exceptional observation skills, all his hidden emotions were laid bare.

What will happen to the fire lizards after today? He couldn't help but think about it.

The man was already walking towards him.

“Thank you for your help, Sergeant.” He nodded to him. “I am Adro Branuur. Do you have any other findings?”

Get to the point.

The guard immediately took a liking to him and, without hesitation, revealed his findings. In just two minutes, he recounted the entire cause and course of the battle, as if he had prepared it in advance.

The fire lizard named Adro gave a barely perceptible smile, raised his hand to tap his left shoulder armor, and spoke solemnly and seriously.

"Very valuable intelligence. Thank you again, Sergeant."

Alvin shook his head, refusing the gratitude, and instead asked, "How is Hesiod? What about the other sanctuary cities?"

“The situation is under control,” Adro Branuur said.

The distinctive incandescent white of the promethium flames reflected on his green and gold armor, elevating it beyond mere ornamentation to a strange, iron-gray sheen unique to war machines—Alvin suddenly realized that this was probably the original purpose of this power armor's design. Only by bathing in flames could its true form be revealed.

“So, in other words,” Alvin began, then paused. “Something’s going on?”

“Of course there will be,” Adro sighed. “There are currently three areas in Hesiod undergoing such cleansing, but whether there will be more, we don’t know. The other six sanctuary cities are in slightly better condition, not yet to the point of burning houses. But I fear this is just the beginning.”

After a moment's hesitation, Alvin asked again, "What about the situation in the wild?"

The fire lizard's eyes grew even more ruthless at the question: "It's probably a hundred times worse than in the city."

This is truly bad news, as expected.

Alvin nodded and asked no further questions. A few minutes later, the last house also collapsed from the flames. The effectiveness of promethium had been proven countless times, but this was only the beginning. It wouldn't be extinguished until the ground was burned as if it had been plowed.

Thinking of this, Yawei frowned again—how exactly would this sudden disaster end?

The trial is fast approaching; if we only feign an attack now...
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden gust of wind. Alvin's vision blurred, and he couldn't see clearly what was passing by them quickly and then disappearing in front of him.

Startled, he instinctively drew his gun, but Adro Branuur of the Salamander raised his hand and pressed down on his explosive pistol.

"No need—"

He had barely uttered two words when a middle-aged man with severe burns spun out of the raging flames and landed awkwardly beneath them. Then a sharp knife was driven deep into his forehead.
The gruesome scene of flesh and blood turning over appeared again, and soon the wounded civilian was transformed into an exceptionally tall, pitch-black humanoid creature. But before it could utter a word, it was burned to ashes by a flame distinct from promethium fire.

Alvin's pupils contracted sharply.

“These things are like chess pieces on a chessboard, manipulated by a single individual. But if they don’t receive orders, they are no different from normal people, and they don’t even realize that they are not human.” Alvin was still wary and confused about who was speaking, but the fire lizard beside him spoke in a low voice.

"grown ups."

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Adro."

A pale-faced man strode out of the fire.

The lethality of the promethium flames suddenly failed him; they didn't even touch his black trench coat, which was clearly an excellent combustible material.

He walked up to them, the insignia of the Court of Judiciary on his clothes very conspicuous, but Alvin's attention was not on it, but on the man's completely black eyes.

“I never expected to meet you again in this way,” Adro sighed. “I had planned to wait until the trial was over before extending an invitation to you and the old comrades from the hangar back then, in a personal capacity. But alas…”

“Many of them probably can’t answer you,” the man replied. “As far as I know, Kefa Morag is one of them. He and the Legion of the Dead have gone to a world called Krieg, where a rebellion supposedly linked to Chaos has broken out.”

The salamander frowned, but quickly relaxed, a fleeting smile playing on its lips.

“At least he integrated into their group. We were always worried that he would fall into a self-destructive complex and be afraid to interact with the younger generation from the Warband era.”

This sentence almost made Alvin utter something he shouldn't have.

"Will the sons of Mortarion be deterred by their grief?"

The man sighed, then turned his gaze to the Raven Guards—decades ago, Alvin had met the renowned 'First Blade' Iago Sevitarion once.

At that time, he had already received a similar scrutiny from the Nightblade Commander, but what horrified him was that, compared to the previous one, this person's gaze was even more intense.
He felt as if he had returned to his childhood before he was reformed, standing in front of the instructors, ready to undergo physical training.

“You must be Sergeant Alvin Kurtolan,” he said softly. “I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. My name is Khalil Lohals, and I’m currently a judge.”

A distinctly deep breath came from behind Alvin's very typical bird-beak helmet.

Adro, who had been very serious, finally showed a clear smile, but then beckoned his squad to the side. In just a few seconds, they boarded the troop carriers, left their original location, and headed to the next place where they were needed.

Alvin took off his helmet, his expression extremely complicated, completely at a loss for words.

"Do you know Seral?" the judge suddenly asked, a man who was completely different from the one described in the records.

“…Cerar? I know him,” Alvin said. “He and I enlisted in the same year.”

"Then they all entered the Jairzinho Guzman Medical Association to study and accept the association's assignments?"

"Yes, my lord."

"How is your studies and life?" the judge asked, taking off his coat as he spoke.

Before the crow guards' eyes, it vanished without a trace in a twist.

Alvin, no longer caring how strange the matter was, hurriedly answered a question that had nothing to do with the current situation—he didn't even realize that he could have simply not answered.

"Not bad."

"You weren't given any special treatment, were you? I mean, in terms of verbal and combat training."

“No,” Alvin said, then added in his mind: aside from the fact that they regularly give us dried eel.

“That’s good,” the judge said, then smiled.

“Well then, I’m leaving. There’s no need to worry about Hesiod anymore. I’m heading to the other five great cities. Hopefully, they’ll be in the same situation here. But you know what, Sergeant? These lurking monsters are just cannon fodder used in a feint attack.”

Why are you telling me all this?
Meeting those eyes, the question remained unasked; instead, the judge continued.

"In the past, the Shadowmoon Wolves, influenced by Grand Astartesism and Horus Lupecal himself, greatly favored this tactic. They would send out other units before a large-scale general offensive—whether friendly or auxiliary—into the most dangerous locations to wear down the enemy's manpower."

"In the days before your Primarchs returned, many Terran Ravenguards brought this tactic into the Nineteenth Legion. During the Battle of Gate 42, some Terrans even disregarded Korius Corax's orders, following Horus Lupecal's tactical arrangements and the habits they had been cultivated, and went forward to their deaths, trying to win at the cost of their own lives."

Regardless of how complicated Alvin's expression became because of this secret, Khalil simply looked at the sky with considerable calm.

“They’re too similar,” he said softly. “It’s almost deliberate.”

Radioactive dust billowed in, obscuring the sky and casting darkness. The ground trembled, and sirens began blaring throughout the city, loud enough to give anyone a headache—Alvin knew this meant only one thing.

The time for trial has come.

However, at such a momentous time, he saw the judge reveal a calm smile.

“To be honest, Alvin Kurtoran,” Khalil said, looking at him. “I don’t know exactly how many of them came, but I will make sure every single one of them dies here.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he vanished from the spot. The Crow Guard was stunned for a moment, then also disappeared into the darkness.

Only the promethium flame continued to burn.

A strong wind began to rise in the sky.

(End of this chapter)