Warhammer 40k: Melee Warriors

This also startled Khorne. He was unwilling to let his favorite warrior be snatched away by other gods, so he slashed at Slaanesh even faster and more fiercely.

Slaanesh stared at Markarth with curiosity. As Khorne's cleave grew faster and faster, he concluded that Markarth's abnormality was not related to him, nor had he lowered his power to affect Markarth. So who could possibly bypass his and Khorne's attention and secretly exert influence on Markarth?

That must be Tzeentch! Who else could it be but Him?

So Tsundere was once again unjustly blamed, and after Komi had gathered his emotions, he forced his voice to become hoarse, like a bird's call, and uttered a story that would leave everyone speechless.

Hey...did you guys know this interesting secret?

Chapter 633: Skabrand, have you considered changing jobs?

A secret? What secret?

Slaanesh's eyes gleamed, while Khorne's heart leaped into his throat. He feared that Markarth would reveal his true identity, causing Slaanesh, a god with short attention spans, to recall the past.

"Do you know the deeds of Scarbrand, the first butcher under the Blood God?"

Sigh...

Upon hearing that the story was related to the coward Skabrand, Khorne breathed a sigh of relief; He didn't care whether Skabrand lived or died.

Slaanesh, who had been looking on with a hint of curiosity, also slumped over the name Skabrad. He was tired of hearing the story of Skabrad being punished for chopping down Khorne.

Unfortunately, Komi didn't bring up Skabrand to recount that well-known topic among demons. Instead, he wanted to talk about another side of Skabrand, a rather sensational 'history' that would definitely pique the interest of Slaanesh.

“Scarbrand is actually the sexiest and most charming of all the demons, but Slaanesh just doesn’t know how to appreciate his charm.”

Every time Komi uttered a word through Markus's mouth, the winds of chaos blew even more fiercely.

Slaanesh's gaze fell upon him once more. He thought to himself, what is so appealing about a brainless, red idiot? If this grey warrior, who had Khorne so nervous, could not offer a satisfactory reason, he should prepare to be eternally hunted down by his own men.

Komi also sensed a great danger descending upon him. Slaanesh's eccentric nature was far more oppressive than Khorne's rage. He continued in a low voice.

"What is Skabrand? Is he a powerful and bloodthirsty demon? Not at all, his true nature is a scantily clad slut! A hot bastard among demons!"

Upon hearing this, Azrael was completely bewildered. He looked to Octar for help, hoping that the knowledgeable Octar could explain the purpose of Markars's nonsense.

Is this a revelation from the Emperor? Or the destructive voice of the Chaos Gods?

Before Octa could respond, the voice continued.

"Think about what Skabrand is wearing? The thin iron plate on his chest can't cover his entire chest, it barely covers his ribcage, like a corset partially encasing his two solid, large muscles. Following the crimson skin downwards, there are golden iron rings on his two goat hooves, and a short, thick tail at the base of his pert buttocks trembles with his emotions. According to ancient texts, with his heterochromatic skin, goat-like hooves, sharp horns and wings, and incredibly sexy clothing! What else could this be but a succubus? Slaanesh, due to his limited knowledge, failed to see this. He should have accepted Skabrand the moment Khorne abandoned him and brought him into the palace to become a dancer. With a strong waist, long legs, and a large axe, and with well-developed muscles all over his body, wouldn't such a beauty, when she dances, be more capable of arousing the desires of all beings than those soft, effeminate masked dancers?"

Koken didn't know what he was thinking when he said these heaven-defying things, but he could clearly feel that the chaotic winds that had been blowing had stopped for a long time, and the Space Marines had fallen into a deathly silence. At that moment, even the fighting in the void became weak.

The silence lasted for about six seconds, followed by a burst of maniacal laughter that caused the Space Marines to lie on the ground in agony.

Upon hearing this voice, Komi knew that he had won Slaanesh's attention, and the next step was to deal with the masked dancer's attack.

Two seconds after the laughter, a roar of extreme anger, powerful enough to shake Azmodari into a calm state, also burst in.

In the Warp, Khorne had gone mad to the extreme. He couldn't believe that Markarth, who dared to raise his sword against him and await death with his head held high, would utter such degrading and treacherous words. So he placed all his doubts and confusion on Slaanesh.

"How dare you control my warrior to utter such filthy words!" Khorne roared, slashing down with his greatsword, which Slaanesh barely managed to block with all six of his hands combined.

"What? Are you angry?" Slaanesh chuckled, continuing his rambling during the brief standoff. "Your annoyed look is quite captivating... That fellow was right, I did overlook the beauty in you and your servants. Our war should change its purpose. I not only want to take the heads, skin, and ass of all the blood demons! I want them to dance to their deaths in every ballroom I own! Ah... Skabrand's solid muscles, his robust body, would be quite a sight to behold if he danced... And this warrior you favor..."

Slaanesh's eyes darted around. "His ass is of very high quality, but I won't cut it off and hang it on my wall. I'll keep him, pamper him like a canary, and let his mouth keep repeating what he said today. Your angry expression will be even more spectacular then."

"Ow!!!!"

With a roar, the entire Blood Realm boiled! The Tzeentch and Nurgle Realms, which bordered it, also began to burn fiercely!

Khorne was always angry, but it was rare for him to be so enraged. He roared at Slaanesh, vowing to use every means to teach this shameless god to respect the order of war and the bloodshed of warriors.

Slaanesh was momentarily stunned. The younger Slaanesh didn't recognize that Khorne's rage had reached its peak. He continued to chuckle, provoking Khorne's nerves. He deliberately freed one hand, transforming it into a shrunken Skabrand, who danced a seductive and provocative dance, mocking, "Look, getting impatient again..."

Before he could finish speaking, Khorne slammed his head down. Slaanesh's beautiful but poorly protected crown was no match for Khorne's heavy helmet, and his head shattered into pieces, held together only by a few tough muscles.

Khorne relentlessly pursued him, and Slaanesh finally realized something was wrong. He quickly dodged, buying time for his recovery. The two gods were getting further and further away from the Gothic Sector. Before Slaanesh fled in a sorry state, he only gave the Masked Dancer a brief order to capture Markarth.

The demonic tide receded quickly. They didn't disappear; they were simply swept away by Khorne and Slaanesh and taken to other places. Even in distant Terra, the gates of the Web of Demons, which were blocked by the Custodians and constantly pouring out, were affected. Vampires and succubi almost disappeared, leaving only horned beasts and plague brutes facing the Custodians' defensive line.

“Today…is truly peaceful…” a member of the Imperial Guard said in a low voice.

The emperor, seated on the golden throne, was more silent than ever before, and even the psionic storms in the throne room noticeably decreased.

Within Blackrock Fortress, the chaotic winds gradually weakened, and then a seductive figure emerged from the shadows, brandishing a long whip to announce her arrival and her displeasure.

"You bastard... what nonsense have you been spouting to my lord! If that fool Skabrand really comes, how am I ever going to return to my lord's palace!"

The masked dancer screamed, and a long whip immediately struck at Marcus.

Chapter 634: The Soul of the Rescuer is Deceiving... Protecting You

The Masked Dancer's attack wasn't just aimed at Markus alone. As he charged, he also brought with him the sadistic winds he had created on Tarantis. These winds were extremely strange; their vibrant colors weren't from any colored particles mixed in, but rather from various kinds of pain solidified into a tangible form.

In an instant, the entire space was filled with endless screams and pain. Those Oathbreakers who had turned into Chaos Eggs could not bear such pain and trembled incessantly in the wind, even resorting to self-harm to escape.

Markars and the other Space Marines were in the same boat. Having just been pinned to the ground by the chaotic winds of the two gods, unable to rise, they were now being suppressed by the winds of pain. Even though they were wearing armor and had been blessed many times by the holy water of the State Church and the incense burners of the Mechanicus, the winds of pain were still everywhere! Even the machines were trembling in pain!

"My vision is blurred, and all I can hear is static!" A Space Marine's tactical HUD was like an old television without a signal, with black and white patterns surging like a tsunami, forming many screaming faces.

"I can't pull the trigger...I can't grip the sword tightly...O Emperor, bless me to defeat this mighty enemy before me!"

However, no one replied; instead, their bodies continued to break down, and pain more intense than being torn apart struck them one after another.

Once again, he silently thanked the Emperor's Fire for its scorching heat. The pain that could numb even a Space Marine was still within Markarth's acceptable range. He stood up, ready to face the Masked Dancer, showing no sign of strain.

Such high pain tolerance? How interesting...

The masked dancer narrowed his eyes upon seeing this. Such a high-quality punching bag was a rare sight. He planned to cut off Marcus's limbs and then impale him on the sharp heels of his dancing boots, grinding away his flesh and soul in endless dance.

Marcus tried to block the whip, but before his axe blade could even touch it, the end of the whip suddenly exploded into many small snakes, bypassing the axe blade and lunging directly at Marcus's body.

What a bizarre attack method!

Marcus was startled. The small snakes pierced the surface of his armor one by one. The alloy that could easily stop explosives was useless against the tiny teeth of these snakes. Then, a numbing sensation traveled through the armor to Marcus's body. The venom of these snakes seemed to be acting directly on his soul.

If he doesn't do something soon, the snake will burrow into the armor, break through the illusion he created with his soul, and feast on the blood. At that point, the Masked Dancer will realize that the gray-armored warrior before him is the same Markus he has seen before.

At this moment, several bombs were launched from his shoulder. These bombs were installed by Demas at Marcus's request. Their destructive power against heavy armor was negligible, but they could clear out lightly armed enemies around Marcus very quickly, much like grenade launchers installed on tanks to prevent infantry from getting close.

The installation of this device is thanks to Markus, who, during a demon hunt, accidentally fell into a garden created by the corpses of some filthy demons. The dense, insatiable maggots left him with a deep psychological trauma.

boom!

Sharp shrapnel churned the smoke and dust from the explosion into clumps of black sea urchin-like spiky balls; the small snake was severed, shattered, and thrown out by the shockwave.

Using the smoke from the explosion as cover, Marcus immediately retreated, and the next second the spot where he stood was trampled by the masked dancer's boots.

The Masked Dancer was a demon qualified to offer his dance to Slaanesh. Even though he was abandoned by Slaanesh, the power contained in his lewd body had not been lost much, which was something that the Slaanesh demons who broke free from the Eldar Ark's seal could not compare to.

The shockwave from the trampling was so powerful that even Markus, clad in Terminator armor, found it difficult to withstand. His momentary loss of balance was seized by the Masked Dancer, who charged at him with a shrill scream. His sixteen-meter-tall body now seemed like a long knife capable of severing bones and tearing flesh.

“Hmm…” Marcus remained calm, seeking a glimmer of hope amidst the danger. He held his Soul Axe horizontally in front of him, attempting to block the Masked Dancer’s fierce attack with the axe blade.

Then, the masked dancer's movements changed in an incredibly bizarre way. Almost without warning, he turned to the side, and his straight body, as straight as a long sword, became a scythe with a tricky angle of attack!

Oh no! I can't get out of the way now!

Koji inwardly groaned. These high-ranking demons were indeed troublesome. A Space Marine would need to gain many advantages to kill them cleanly and efficiently.

Consider the Grey Knights' demon-suppressing mission. When they encountered an excessively powerful demon, the only option they could use was to chant the demon's true name to weaken it. Recklessly charging in would have been a pointless act of suicide.

But it doesn't matter... Marcus has a complete ancient coin that can be charged, not the broken fragments of the ancient coin on Otto. I can withstand this without taking any damage, and then seize the opportunity when the Masked Dancer is stunned to launch a counterattack!

Komi had made his plans. He even deliberately brought Marcus's head towards the Masked Dancer's spike, which was formed by fusing six fingers together, so that he could die instantly and trigger the Ancient Coin's protective passive ability.

At that moment, several clusters of blue plasma bombarded the masked dancer's body, which was almost reduced to a blur. The terrifying explosion and intense heat caused the powerful demon to cry out in pain and fall to the distance.

"Demon! Have you overlooked something!" Ezekiel's voice carried a hint of arrogance, the best proof that the blood of the Lion King flowed in his veins. Standing beside him were the strongest troops of the Dark Angels Chapter—the First Company, the Deathwing Terminators.

The Terminator squad not only has masters of close combat, but also mobile artillery turrets that unleash apocalyptic fire on the enemy. This incoming plasma swarm is their masterpiece!

But... what's the key to ensuring they can pinpoint the masked dancer's movements with long-range firepower? Is it rigorous training? Extensive combat experience? But can these abilities be fully utilized amidst immense pain?

It's important to know that not only their physical bodies, but even the machines hummed under the blows of the painful wind.

“Warriors of the Lord! Sons of the Lion King!” Ezekiel cried out from the center of the line, his voice imbued with psychic power and thus reaching the entire battlefield. “When our senses are disturbed by the blasphemous power of chaos, when our weapons wither away in endless corruption, the shadow of defeat looms over us.”

This seems utterly hopeless, but we are not fighting alone. The weapons in our hands and the armor we wear are inhabited by messengers sent by the Savior—the great Machine Soul!

These lovely and respectable spiritual beings that accompany humanity will become our assistants and our comrades! Awakening the Machine Soul is responding to the Savior's revelation! It is listening to His divine words! Faith protects our souls, and the Machine Soul can do the same! You must firmly believe, you must not doubt, and you must communicate with the Machine Soul with your hearts like devout believers!

Chapter 635: I won't see Dad, hehe.

"What nonsense are you spouting!" The masked dancer's questioning voice blew in on the wind of pain, but Ezekiel pretended not to hear it.

Komi stared blankly at Ezekiel preaching from Markus's body. He looked less like a think tank member and more like a shaman from a steel industry tribe. If it weren't for the Dark Angels' tradition of distrusting technical strategists and taking them to the battlefield, Komi believed that the technical strategist would have stood by Ezekiel and preached passionately together.

"What a magnificent power!" A Dark Angel Terminator responded to Ezekiel's shout. He was the first Terminator to believe in the Machine Soul's theory and the one who fired that plasma swarm. He said excitedly, "I felt the Machine Soul responding to my soul! My blurred vision returned to normal, the screams filling my headset disappeared, and I even saw a clearer, simpler interface imprinted before my eyes! The Machine Soul is guiding where my killing spree should go, and it expects my kill count to expand to a level that will make the Savior and the Lion King smile!"

"I heard it too! I saw it too!" another Terminator shouted right after. "My weapon, 'Lament for the World of Soland,' has unleashed hatred! She only wants to vent her rage by killing the demon before her!"

The occasional cheers from the Dark Angel Terminator puzzled the Space Marines from other chapters.

Hearing the voice of the machine spirit? Only technical sergeants and mechanical monks in the guild would say such nonsense. The great sage of the Mechanical Order regarded orthodox Astartes monks as fleshy sacks who could not hear the voice of the machine spirit.

However, while some were puzzled, others were inspired by their actions. After all, these people had truly stood up in the winds of pain, and both their power armor and weapons gleamed with a faint, almost imperceptible light.

The first to follow suit were those powerful individuals who were qualified to carry sacred relics. Even if they did not believe in machine spirits, they would believe that their sacred relics contained other sacred things.

Each chapter possesses its own relics. These might be the weapon used by the previous chapter leader in battle, war prayers distilled from countless battles by high-ranking priests, exquisite armor bestowed as a symbol of immense honor, or even the skull of a servant constantly chanting imperial prayers...

In the war-torn and blindly cult-like era of Warhammer, artifacts are incredibly diverse, but they all share one thing in common: they symbolize a difficult yet glorious past.

Every warrior who possesses a relic believes they can hear the sacred voice of the previous user as they wield their blade and pull the trigger. They once treated the relic with reverence, and now they prepare with hesitation to communicate with the spirit that may reside within it.

A fierce and ominous warrior stared at the chainsaw sword in his hand, marked with several pure symbols, and murmured, "Mentor Andrea, may your power bless me and help me defeat the demon before me." In a daze, he seemed to hear an echo, an aged voice resounding. He immediately felt the chainsaw sword in his hand spin wildly, intensely, and frantically! Thick black smoke even billowed from it!

A warrior of the Imperial Blade held a Holy Word skull to his eyes and murmured, "Pastor Ryans, your inspiring speech from two hundred years ago remains unforgettable to this day. May your fervor be with me." In a daze, he heard a change in the unchanging content of the Holy Word skull's chanting. A stern voice came, ordering him to abandon weakness and rise to fight.

A warrior of the steadfast sons clutched a stopped pocket watch, inside which was a slightly yellowed photograph of a revered saint. He murmured, "Saint Angelo, may your ideals enlighten those fools who do not believe in the Emperor." In a daze, a miniature, chibi-style Saint Angelo suddenly appeared on the helmet's tactical HUD interface. Wings symbolizing purity sprouted from her back, and she wore a white robe, encouraging him to conquer his physical pain.

Under the utterly shocked gaze of the masked dancer, one warrior after another rose to their feet, staring at the masked dancer with hatred, wishing they could chop him into mincemeat.

"What...what happened?" The masked dancer couldn't understand. He wasn't afraid of any of the Space Marines here, but being stared at by thousands of warriors was still a rather unpleasant experience.

Marcus breathed a sigh of relief, a smile spreading across his face hidden beneath his helmet. He hadn't expected that the theories Otto had instilled in Ezekiel would come in handy at this moment.

Once the Dark Angels have taken the lead, it's not impossible that every chapter will be filled with machine spirits whose roots point to the Pure White Hall in the future, and they might even be able to instill one forging world after another in reverse.