40k: Midnight Blade
Chapter 678 60 Belated Judgment (Twenty-four)
Chapter 678 60. Belated Judgment (Twenty-four)
Serafax squatted down and grabbed a handful of so-called soil. The eyepiece's analysis function gave a conclusion after a few seconds: 42% of the mixture of flesh and blood, 17% of broken bones, and 20% of armor fragments
But don't think that this is the end. There are many mixed substances whose mass is difficult to calculate in the remaining 21%, such as the poisonous dust distorted by the mixture of poison gas and flesh and blood, or the little metal debris left after the violent explosion at the bombing center.
Only after they are completely removed, the little remnant left at the end is the "soil" part of Terra.
The Dark Angel stood up silently and put the handful of blood soil into his belt.
From his not very accurate map, he is now almost reaching the entrance of the Himalayan Plateau.
According to the data and memory, there are always a large number of pilgrims from all over the galaxy gathering here, and hundreds of camps that can be infinitely subdivided according to religious factions are scattered in this entrance in a disorderly manner.
There was a fortress above them, guarded by the Imperial Fists, but they were not responsible for dealing with the pilgrims.
The real person who dealt with the relevant affairs was a bureaucratic team of 2,000 people, specially drawn from Terra's complex administrative system, whose purpose was only to maintain stability.
The things and power contained in these four words were terrifying when you think about it carefully. Therefore, ten years after the establishment of this team, they built a bridge across the entrance of the plateau in the name of the pilgrims and the money they donated. It would allow anyone who came here later to avoid crossing mountains and directly reach the prosperous city under the palace.
Of course, Serafax saw nothing now. Pilgrims, fortresses, bridges, sentries - all these things disappeared, and even the sky was covered by thick dust.
These death elves brought by huge amounts of radiation filled every corner of the air on the plateau, making visibility so low that even the eyepiece could not help Serafax avoid this difficulty.
He couldn't help but have some pessimistic thoughts.
In such an environment, even if someone was still alive, how could they continue to fight? Even an Astartes could not hold out for long without a helmet. His power armor had warned him more than once about this.
But
Serafax looked to his right front. Fourteen minutes ago, the ground had faintly shaken several times, then paused for a few seconds, and then shook several times again. After tracing the source, he roughly determined the direction from which the vibration came.
The servo core of the power armor gave the possibility of artillery support through calculation and analysis, but Serafax did not agree with this conclusion.
He believed that the war had reached this point, and even if there were artillery ammunition left, the commander responsible for issuing orders would never ask his gunners to fire a few shots or a few bases according to the tactical manual or the textbooks in the academy.
However, he himself could not tell the truth. So he changed direction and headed in the direction where the vibration came from. Along the way, the vibration never stopped, but it was still that rigid interval bombing.
At this point, even Serafax was somewhat puzzled: Could it be that there was really an ammunition depot that was only discovered and activated by a lucky troop until now? Moreover, the commander of this troop still maintained his rationality and superb tactical literacy?
The Dark Angels' previous war experience told him that this was highly unlikely to happen.
Once the war reached a white-hot stage, the issuance and execution of orders became a very difficult matter. It was okay for one troop, but if multiple legions were mixed and fought, the redundancy of information would gradually drag everyone into the quagmire over time and with the development of the intensity of the war, and even the Primarchs could not completely avoid this influence.
Serafax maintained his doubts and continued to move forward. He had to raise his hand to wipe the eyepiece every ten meters to prevent the radioactive dust from completely blocking his vision.
The servo motor responsible for the air purification system and the breathing grille had already run to maximum power, and the low whistling sound emitted kept echoing in his ears.
He was like a ghost, walking in a world where flesh and blood turned to mud and ashes floated, his eyes radiating scarlet light - Serafax almost laughed at his own inappropriate sense of humor, and was also surprised that he still had such extra emotions.
However, when he arrived at the source of the tremor, he lost the ability to speak and even think.
Serafax did not see anything like an army or a position. On the contrary, he saw a ruin, or a valley, a deep pit left after a city was completely destroyed.
There were also some building debris piled up on its edge, and the same was true on both sides of the valley. The wonders of the artificial mountains on the Himalayan Plateau in the past still remained. From Serafax's perspective, it was as if someone had aimed a giant sword that spanned the sky and the earth at this place and chopped it off.
Nothing remained under the sword, and the edge was not very sharp. Many broken "saw teeth" were still swaying in the dusty wind, calling for the glory of the past.
However, the center of the valley was not empty. A huge monster was still there, connecting the two ends of the broken valley with a relatively low and rugged amplitude, just like the connection of a mountain range.
Of course, it didn't look much better. The Gothic spire tower that was once so dazzling that it reached the sky had already collapsed or broken, and the many weapon arrays mounted on it had also been destroyed. Only the left arm and the plasma incinerator on it seemed to be intact.
It was covered with thick dust, and the wreckage of many fighter planes, tanks or armored vehicles lay around it. With it as the center, circles of cracks covered the entire land, filled with corpses, mostly the filthy flesh and blood of demons.
Serafax looked at it silently, watching it slowly and slowly raise its left arm, the amplitude was extremely small, as weak as an old man in his twilight years. But it finally raised it, and the creaking sound from the mechanical operation spread far away with the wind.
Then it fell.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.
Serafax began to run towards it, drawing his gun. He was alert to possible enemies, but his pace did not slow down. He often jumped over the bottomless cracks.
The joke about ghosts was back, and this time it seemed more believable.
He jumped over the abyss full of corpses, climbed over the overturned tanks, and crossed the empty positions - but the vibration came again, this time it was not as gentle as before, and Serafax had to stop during this period and seek cover like an earthquake.
During this period, dust, mud or other things would completely cover him, which in turn increased the time he took to approach it. After more than an hour, Serafax finally reached his destination with difficulty.
He looked up at the collapsed mountain and took a deep breath unconsciously.
An Emperor-class Titan - or rather, an Emperor-class Titan on the verge of death.
Serafax was not a member of the Mechanicus, and he had no great affection for their teachings, but he was still willing to use words like "alive" or "dead" to describe this huge machine.
However, there was a new problem before him: the communication channel was still dead silent, with no new message prompts or communication requests, and no response to the active call function he had always turned on.
This either meant that the crew of this Titan had died, or that their situation was so bad that they could not even receive the communication signal that was so close.
Either way, it was not good news, but Serafax had to try it - Titans, especially Emperor-class Titans, would only be sent to the places with the highest intensity of war, otherwise it would be a blasphemy to them.
No commander would ever say to a Titan crew, "Please go and kill the mutants hiding in the hive city" and so on.
Even if someone was really stupid enough to do so, the Mechanicus would dissuade them. The red priests never leave any room for reason when it comes to such respect issues.
That is to say, even if he can only find a dead crew in the end, he will definitely get some useful information. If there are still one or two living people, it would be even better.
Serafax lowered his head and began to run along a path under his feet. The ground was rugged, and even if he had reached the foot of the Titan, he had to be careful every time he traveled a certain distance. He had no idea how many traps were formed in the collapsed ruins.
And this was just an appetizer, and the subsequent climbing exercise was the highlight - yes, Serafax planned to crawl to the core of this Titan little by little, as long as he remained cautious, this would not be difficult.
But he forgot one thing: this is Terra.
"Stop." A dead and hoarse voice said to him condescendingly. "Put your hands up."
A dangerous buzzing sound followed.
Serafax did it quite tactfully without hesitation.
He looked up and found that the left leg of the Emperor-class Titan, which had already fallen flat on the ground and looked like a huge bridge, was emitting a faint blue light. A completely inconspicuous black shadow was staring at him from behind the blue light, only a dozen meters away.
As if he had noticed the gaze of the Dark Angel, the shadow did not hide anymore, but stood up directly. He was wearing a heavy gas mask, and his clothes were covered with dust.
As he stood up, more shadows appeared from behind him. Serafax took a quick look and found that their uniforms were different and their weapons were varied, from laser guns to various live ammunition weapons.
A temporarily reorganized force?
"Report your identity, Astartes." The man said again. "In the name of the Emperor's Firebee Legion, I command you."
Serafax did not hesitate to introduce himself and took the initiative to play an authentication code through the external broadcast of the power armor. Sure enough, the other party quickly connected to his power armor through the code.
The blue light faded, and the soldier nodded to him, saluted with the Eagle, and then made an apologetic gesture before disappearing into the darkness again. His companion did the same, remaining motionless on the sacred steel, completely invisible.
Another voice sounded in Serafax's ear, with hoarseness and fatigue: "Although I am very happy to meet a cousin at this time, how did you get here, Brother Serafax?"
The Dark Angel glanced at the identity code displayed on the upper right corner of the eyepiece, and then replied: "I also want to know how a Blood Angel became the temporary commander of the Firebee Legion, Captain Zefeng."
The man called Zefeng smiled, and his tone was already slightly smiling: "I used to hate your secrecy, but now it seems very kind"
"Come up, brother, but be prepared for battle. The machine soul of the Blazing Flame is doing its last bit of strength to attract enemies or friendly forces like you for us. We may have to fight a new battle at any time."
That's why I came here. Serafax thought.
He climbed up the left leg of the Blazing Flame silently and walked up slowly.
At the same time, a distant echo came into his ears. It came from a very, very far away place, but it was created by Serafax, so it was still loyal.
It told him many things, such as the death of Lion El'Jonson, the arrival of an unexpected guest, and finally, the most important point.
It is being eroded.
The unexpected guest has another power, which comes from the bitter winter and the unquenchable wildness. Without Serafax, it will not last long.
It doesn't matter. The Chaos Wizard whispered to the Dark Angel in a corner of his heart. It doesn't matter how long you can last, as long as the winner is reincarnated into the body I have prepared for him.
He said it with confidence, as if he had expected this, but it was not the case. He didn't know why Leman Russ came, why he could come, and where his special power came from.
But since he took the initiative to enter the darkness, he must abide by the rules set by Serafax.
If the Fenrisians could hear this, what would they think? No one knows the answer, but one thing is certain-Leman Russ will sneer at it.
Wolves howled and snow filled the sky. The wolf king of Fenris slowly straightened his back, stretched his muscles, and smiled as he touched the two giant wolves that were clinging to him.
Opposite him, the hunter who had no intention of fighting and the king with a frown on his face were looking around in amazement.
"What's the matter? Haven't you been to Fenris?" Russ asked with a grin. "This is a great place."
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