Chapter 401: What Have We Won, My Lord?
Wind and rain raged, the world constantly shifting between light and darkness.
The wails and battle cries never ceased.
Both sides found the battle exceptionally difficult.
So far, the holy Karna posed the greatest threat to the Nurgle daemon army.
His burning flames and the holy light purifying all emotions were deadly to daemons.
The roaring Typhon Plagueheart swung his wooden ladle, striking at Karna's eternally burning armor.
He had gathered with another Great Unclean One who had also polluted the Dawnstar Sector, Festering Bonebreak, representing Dengue Fever.
Another one had died early, slain by the Raven Lord before the Grandfather's counterattack could reach its position.
Relying on the power gained from polluting the Dawnstar Sector, they were still powerful, barely coping with the attacks from the Burning Angel.
A straight charge, unstoppable.
Just one person seemed to display the effect of a Legion charge. The Angel flying close to the ground rushed to the front in the blink of an eye. These postures were simple and plain, but every movement was born for killing.
Too late to use spells to intercept, those mosquito-like long-range attacks were directly ignored, and that lethality was enough to make any daemon attempting to block regret it.
Typhon Plagueheart verified this.
Hesitation almost equaled death. His already scarred arm bubbled from the heat of the flames.
A series of broken green body parts spun into the air.
Festering Bonebreak turned wordlessly, moving steps, leaving this area blocked by burning corpse piles back-to-back with his brother, waving a big club attempting to force back the Angel, but was sent flying the moment the club touched the weapon.
An emotion called panic accumulated in his heart.
Crash!
A Greater Daemon on the periphery fell silently. As it fell, Kaldor Draigo shouted a war cry, devoid of any obscure words of the past, just a roar of contempt. He slew a champion under Nurgle with two slashes.
The 'Swordbearer' beside him immediately stepped forward, locking it into a shrine with obscure words.
These trophies would become good medicine for further analyzing daemons in the future, allowing Grey Knights to kill them more efficiently.
These Grey Knights and the elite kill-teams of the Ring of Unity fought a bloody path back-to-back, covering each other while turning to drive away the surrounding diseases.
They parried, stabbed, and hacked, breaking rotten weapons, plunging weapons shining with golden light deep into the enemy's bodies.
"For humanity!"
Karna roared.
"Faithful unto death!"
Sarpedon shouted loudly.
Endless shouts of Blood Angels came from behind them, roaring along with all troops.
They beheaded the bloated and foul daemons of the Plague Legion one by one.
Howl!
A headless corpse of a Plaguebearer fell, a dying scream issuing from the eternally smiling face. A Nurgling crawled on the ground for a long time looking for its partner's severed head, then was crushed into fragments by silver iron boots.
Crunch!
An Astartes' body was grabbed and torn in half by Typhon Plagueheart. As he cheerfully threw down the corpse, the other roared, grabbing the shattered bones piercing him with bare hands. His knees fell to the ground, arms tightly clasping the Great Unclean One, holding the arm that tore him apart with both hands.
Then intense light burst from under his armor.
BOOM!!!
Typhon Plagueheart rolled away in a pool of blood.
When these fearless troops rushed forward again, Festering Bonebreak knocked him out of the encirclement, pushing away the surrounding people.
They wrestled with each other, as if possessed by something, but only one side was daemons.
Typhon Plagueheart watched his partner who couldn't help but flee, watched the enemy who didn't fear death at all, thinking his side definitely wasn't the daemons.
War cries entered his ears. Perhaps his heart was still hesitant, but his partner's escape gave Typhon Plagueheart a glimmer of luck.
Maybe retreat a little more. The opponent's offensive couldn't be endless in the same environment. The later he died, the more hope of survival.
He retreated in panic.
They kept retreating.
"Don't think about escaping!"
Karna chased directly, glimpsing two figures in the shadows out of the corner of his eye.
"Now."
This low shout was different from the previous consistency, and the existence in the shadows did not hesitate.
The moment the two most powerful Nurgle Greater Daemons retreated, the formation deadlocked on a jagged curve suddenly thrust forward like an amoeba preying on microorganisms, swallowing this area that suddenly lost resistance.
Chains thrown by the golden-masked sorcerer bound the wooden ladle. Swarming Grey Knights rushed up, cutting open Typhon Plagueheart's yellow skin.
Ah!
Typhon Plagueheart was caught off guard, feeling pain all over his body, wanting to release the virus again to drive away these annoying ants.
Squelch—
Blood splattered like fermented viscous bacterial colonies, leaving only mottled marks on the silver-white armor.
Squawk!
Not far away, the Lord of Dengue Fever screamed.
Karna kicked him to the ground. This high-heat Greater Daemon emitting steam all over fluttered and fell downward, falling into the burning darkness that had extended to his feet at some unknown time.
"No—"
Squelch~ Squelch~
The messy sound like hunters devouring prey sounded again.
The bodies of these Great Unclean Ones were too fat. Weapons cutting into their bodies were like cutting into bottomless wax.
However, wax only meets the fate of melting when encountering fire.
"No, no!"
Feeling his vitality gradually extinguished under hacking, the face that was extremely excited about spreading pain not long ago was covered with despair.
In different areas, two daemons were executed by slow slicing in almost the same way.
Meanwhile, Karna cut down another seven Greater Daemons with his spear.
Their corpses surrounded him, turning into lumps of pitch-black carbon.
"Retreat!"
The ceaseless rage paused.
With the tactical objective achieved, the entire front line began to shift from offense to defense, contracting inward.
Mobile units began to concentrate towards the area where the Primarchs were, ready to deal with counterattacks that could come at any time.
They lost thirteen thousand compatriots.
The last few died in the green nest, flames swallowing their bodies so they wouldn't be desecrated.
When the brilliance belonging entirely to the Emperor shone overhead again, as medicine was injected into bodies, vitality began to recover, and cheers erupted on the battlefield.
Exhausted, blood-soaked soldiers ran along the retreat route amidst the flashing light connected by armor. Covering troops constantly fired artillery. Spirit-Forged Titans swept their weapons, sweeping across the path after the troops left, ploughing bottomless gullies in this domain originally belonging to Nurgle.
They shouted the war cry of the Dawnbreakers proudly at the approaching green tide.
The unwilling roars of Nurgle daemons echoed on the battlefield.
Having someone rush into their home and kill their people was an unprecedented humiliation.
But could they retreat?
Letting the Garden be further burned would make their deaths worthless!
Not everyone was a favored guy like Mortarion and Ku'gath!
Corax also chose to retreat at the right time, scooping up a wounded soldier before a keen-sensed Blood Angel could.
Many people chose to do this. They lifted up those scarred compatriots and left calmly.
Corax looked down.
It was a Raven Guard.
The Dawnbreakers always knew about the internal divisions of various Chapters due to ten thousand years of separation, so they actively promoted communication between Chapters.
The Feast of Blades, the Ring of Unity, and a series of exchanges around resource points gradually established by the Dawnbreakers across the galaxy.
These were excellent warriors. With their return, they would grasp the voice within various Chapters, further easing the stiff relationships between Chapters due to lack of communication.
"My warrior, the Apothecary will be here soon."
Sensing the warrior's struggle, Corax's expression changed for a while, finally speaking to comfort him.
Karna told him.
"Did we win, my lord?"
The warrior gripped his weapon and asked.
Corax glanced at the dog tag written in ancient Kiavahr text around his neck, reading 'Kayvaan Shrike'.
"Won."
The Primarch replied briefly.
"Is that so, my lord."
Kayvaan Shrike exhaled.
The moment he relaxed, he felt an unprecedented warmth enveloping him.
"Is this the feeling of victory?"
He asked somewhat incredulously: "My lord?"
"This is the feeling of victory, my child."
Corax protected his son and said: "I will do my best to ensure you survive, until we all get used to this feeling."
"What have we won, my lord?"
The Captain of the Raven Guard 3rd Company closed his eyes, words issuing from behind the film of blood in his mouth.
"Quick, report the data. Don't let the Primarch do this kind of thing in the future."
Teams of psychic squads carrying data and samples, led by Inquisitors and Grey Knights, passed through the gap between reality and the warp, running towards completely safe areas. They carried data containing ways for humans to deal with daemons, and a series of supplements after practice.
Maybe not ways to destroy daemons—
But for those battlefields not yet touched by the brilliance of the Dawnbreakers, even methods to weaken them were precious.
These results obtained from various areas would undergo analysis, integration, and verification before being promoted, popularized, and applied to battlefields where they should play a role.
This was a raid that didn't count for a large-scale war, but its opponent and location destined the extraordinariness of this war.
In any case, in this costly battlefield, they gained benefits and made the enemy pay the price.
War brought them what they deserved.
Completely different from any moment in the past.
"..."
Watching the daemons continuing to surge towards them, Corvus Corax's heart was no longer filled with irritability and unwillingness.
"The future."
He answered from the bottom of his heart.
"It is the future."
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