40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 123 26. Burn out (End)

fighting.

It seemed like a never-ending battle—the enemies were endless, coming from both sides of the corridor, but there were only forty-seven of the War Dogs left. There may be a large force gathering at the stern of the ship, but this is the enemy's bow, so they only have these last forty-seven people.

Kahn has used up all the bullets, but he still has the chain saw axe. The monomolecular saw blade has been worn to a not very good point. If possible, Kahn would replace it immediately, but he does not have this opportunity, nor does he this time.

He was busy killing.

"Blood sacrifice to the blood god——!"

A crazy enemy rushed towards him - enemy, yes, enemy. Kahn was unwilling to change this name to other words. He would rather use this slightly inappropriate word to call these people wearing two-color armor.

The man who rushed towards him had a pale and twisted face, his features were all swallowed up by madness, and there was no so-called humanity in it. Kahn felt a strong urge to laugh at this, but he did not laugh. His mind remained calm, and he would attribute this to the burning pain.

He tightened his grip on the chainsaw.

"Fuck you Blood God!"

Kahn dodged the man's first swipe, striking back a split second before the man turned his arm and tried to strike Kahn's neck with the chainsaw.

The chain ax roared endlessly. It had reached its limit, but it could still kill - it cut deeply into the neck guard of the brass and scarlet armor, and then completely severed a head.

This process has been repeated hundreds of thousands of times in Kahn's life, the saw teeth tearing apart armor, tearing apart flesh and bones, tearing apart bones and everything inside, and then destroying everything in sight.

It is the source of violence, and war dogs are the messengers of violence, but Kahn never thought that he would unleash this barbaric killing on his own brother.

But now there is no time to think so much.

The blood faded away, and the headless corpse wearing blue and white painted armor fell heavily to the ground. Kahn did not look at him, he did not want to see who he was. He instead charged at another enemy.

Harlan Corson of the third company was fighting with the man. Half of the face of the sergeant of the third company had completely disappeared. There was a strange smile on his face.

His nickname within the Third Company was derived from this, his brothers called him 'The Laughter', which seemed to be some kind of weird neurological disorder. Whenever Harlan Corson fights and the adrenaline rushes, he laughs.

He is laughing now too.

The only remaining eye on the bloody face narrowed, and the muscles of the cheek were pulled upward. The broken lower jaw and only half of the remaining teeth were exposed to the bloody wind. He threw a huge and weird stick from his throat. Laughing, he knocked the enemy staggering with his shoulder.

Karn seized the opportunity, roaring the Emperor's name and slashing his foe in half with his axe.

"Well done, Kahn," said Harlankosen, still smiling, but with eyes that seemed to have been dead for a long time. "Where did we hit?"

"There are three corridors to the bridge."

"What a familiar way of describing it," Harlancosen laughed. "This is how your Eighth Company always describes the Resolute—"

He turned around, the blood oozing from his face splashing in the air, black ashes floating in the air, and then being dyed scarlet.

He raised his chain sword, and his voice suddenly turned into a roar: "——There are three more corridors! War dogs!"

A chorus of roars came from the surrounding darkness. They tacitly omitted the number of the enemy and their own, and only stated the distance from the bridge, as if they could win as long as they reached the bridge.

Among these barks, Barron Benson's roar was particularly fierce. He barked loudly like a wounded beast. The current captain of the 1st Company was at the other end of the corridor wielding his chainsword with his only remaining hand, a skill that was beyond comprehension.

He tore into pieces one of the four enemies surrounding him, then dismembered the second with his sword without stopping. The third one slashed at his head with an axe, but his head was obliterated by another war dog's explosive bullets midway. The fourth one roared the name of their damn god and charged towards the first company commander. Come over, and Barron Benson is ready.

He tripped him, then sawed open his enemy's chest with his chainsword.

"Where is your so-called god?!" He straightened up with a scarlet face and shouted angrily into the darkness in the long and narrow corridor. "Get him out! Get him out and face us!"

Their gods did not answer, only crazy and chaotic roars, blood sacrifice to the blood god, blood sacrifice to the blood god, they kept shouting, as if they had completely lost everything, only this sentence still existed in their souls.

Kahn saw clearly, and he felt that their enemies had gone completely crazy - unlike in the beginning, when they could still talk and tell lies or truths in weird and terrifying voices to taunt the war dogs.

They were crazy at that time, but not as crazy as they are now.

They are just a bunch of puppets now.

No.

is a slave.

Kahn clenched his left fist, burning pain surged into his heart. He gritted his teeth, resisting its power while running, and then he saw it again - he saw the red collars on the necks of his enemies, the proof of slaves, and saw them shedding tears of blood.

"Blood sacrifice to the Blood God!" they shouted, but the second half of the sentence did not appear. They probably wanted to save it for when they were cutting off the heads of the war dogs.

They kept shouting this sentence, but it was not their own voice. Kahn's vision began to rise, and the pain became more and more intense, almost tearing him into pieces, but he did not stop. Burn, burn, burn.

His blood began to tremble and turn to some kind of dried ash.

Then he saw it.

He saw something in the darkness, behind the curtain, and even though it was only a fleeting glimpse, Kahn was sure he saw it.

He saw a pair of scarlet and furious eyes.

He roared, and the burning pain was completely extinguished, and he quickly returned to the real world with his reason. It can no longer protect him, but Kahn has found new strength to support his heart.

angry.

A never-ending rage—but not a thirst for carnage, but a thirst for vengeance.

"It's you! Did you do it?!" He asked his enemies, but the target of the question was not here, making him look as if he was crazy.

Kahn's face contorted as he gripped his chainsaw and lunged at his enemies. Harlankosen shouted after him, telling him to come back and not rush into the enemy circle.

The War Dogs have always maintained strict discipline. Playing tricks like the First Company to lure the enemy deep is a privilege that only a few people have. Kahn does not have it, but he does not listen. He lunged at them and started killing.

He fought more crazily than his enemies, and even gained the upper hand for a short time - but all madness came at a cost, and he was soon injured when a man chopped him down from behind with an axe. .

Kahn lay on the ground and looked up. What reflected in his eyes was not an enemy thirsting for his blood, but a war dog that was shedding blood and tears.

He recognized him immediately.

It was Elson from the 7th Company, a recruit who had served for seventeen years. The scarlet collar around his neck was so dazzling and terrifying.

Kahn saw him crying.

"Blood sacrifice to the Blood God!" He cried and roared, his soul being completely dyed scarlet. "Skull Sacrifice Seat!"

Kahn stared at his brother.

The war dogs strictly observe discipline in order to restrain each other during war. They show no mercy to the enemy and are terrifyingly cruel. Every victory is a massacre.

This was a good thing, but the subsequent heavy damage also made senior officers headed by Legion Commander Gil Baldwin realize the seriousness of the problem, and they began to impose rare strict regulations on military discipline. Among them The first one, and the one that is most often touched upon, is that it is forbidden to break away from the large army and rush into the enemy group.

This one is jokingly called the Death Law among the War Dogs. Anyone who touches it will die. Sooner or later, they will eventually die among the enemies.

Kahn had just touched it, and now, he was dying.

But he didn't die, he saw a giant.

The giant smashed into the wall, roaring with boundless coldness among the broken cables and steel. He was not angry, and Kahn saw no trace of anger on his face.

There is only sadness, endless sadness.

He was like a mountain standing in front of Kahn.

He lifted Elson of the 7th Company with one hand, and gently broke his neck. Then, he lowered him along the porthole, as gently as if he were treating a relative. The scarlet filth disappeared from Elson's body, and he leaned against the wall quietly, with his eyes closed, as if he was just sleeping.

The war dogs were stunned, and so were their enemies.

Kahn didn't. He looked at the back of the giant, his lower jaw and upper jaw were tightly stuck together, and he made a strange grunt in his throat. He lay on the ground, with black ash and dust covering his cheeks, but his eyes were still bright, with something inside them. Things are flashing.

"I am Angron of Nuceria," said the giant, his voice like the scraping of swords. "I am the Primarch of the War Hounds."

He looked at the people wearing scarlet and brass armor again, and slowly raised the giant sword in his hand. The disintegration position crackled, and the blue light illuminated his face, making the two scarlet tears extremely incomparable. clear.

"I'm here to kill you."

The next second, the Weeping Mountains let out a shattering roar, but his enemies showed no resistance at all.

——

Conrad Coates was dreaming. He rarely had dreams, let alone such strange dreams.

There is no complete scene in this dream, only fragments flying by. He saw a skeleton floating from the other side of the darkness. He saw another planet covered by a snowstorm. It was gradually cracking, magma gushes out from the ground, and overwhelming twisted creatures jumped out of the void.

Then he saw Khalil Lohars.

He held a sword, which was golden and blazing with fire. He waved it in the darkness and fought against four things. A half-dead golden skeleton clung to him behind him, still breathing, resisting great pain, and striving to save more people.

The skeleton looked at him a thousandth of a second later.

- You can't change it. He said. They will try their best to make the world like this, but you still have a chance to let more people survive.

Let them survive. The skeleton said this, almost pleading, and there was a flash of golden light in the burning empty eye sockets.

Conrad Coates opened his eyes suddenly, and the cold chill disappeared in a flash. He began to breathe heavily as if a drowning person had surfaced, but he tasted a strong taste of blood on his tongue.

Looking down, he saw a skeleton covered in ash, lying on the floor of his room, smoking. It may have once had flesh covering it, but now it's gone, everything has been burned away, leaving only pale ashes.

Midnight Ghost's body began to tremble.

besides.

Annoyed, I originally wanted to write a final chapter, but after thinking about it, I feel that this part should be left blank (?)

By the way, I see many readers asking whether the Great Rebellion will happen again. Guess why my book is called 40k?

Let me mention it again, some people cannot be saved.