Youji's heart pounded. He hid behind the defensive line, breathing heavily, his fingers trembling as he clutched his lasgun.
They had just repelled the first wave of Tyranid attack, and according to the Angel Priests in their black armor and skull masks, this was only the first wave.
This was only the first wave!!!! It was only a test!!
The endless Tyranid, the tide of roaring beasts with flesh weapons, the biological bullets raining down like drops—Youji felt as if he would be engulfed by fear at any moment.
But he dared not retreat. The Angel Priests walked among the lines.
If anyone dared to take a step back, the Angels' scepters would shatter that person's chest, leaving him to die in agony.
The people of the Saint Doraemon Sect also handled similar tasks, urging everyone to stay on the battlefield, though their methods were relatively gentler.
Youji's body trembled as he tried to change the battery in his lasgun. Damn it, he had learned how to do this during the training a few days ago!
But Youji's mind was blank with fear, and his body trembled with fright, unable to properly install the battery.
"What the hell, are your hands cramped from jerking off?" A harsh curse rang out.
The guy named Lager snatched the battery and lasgun from Youji's hand, quickly installed it, and shoved it back to Youji.
"In a hive city, everything can be half-assed, but not a gun," Lager said, sitting down next to Youji, an lho cigarette dangling from his mouth. "It's what keeps you alive."
Youji stared at Lager. He found that these guys from the Netherworld Star System seemed fearless; almost no one retreated during combat, firing their weapons under the most intense shelling.
"Aren't you afraid?" Youji asked, his voice trembling.
"We're used to being afraid. We've been afraid for months."
Lager extended his hand, which was like a withered tree branch, and said, his hand subtly trembling uncontrollably:
"Every night I dream of Tyranids running rampant on the streets of Ashford, eating workers, thugs, children—they eat everything. I dream of One-Eye dying in his bar, of Sister Reyna falling on the front lines, of myself lying on the gravel, clutching my stomach and dying, of Alexander standing alone before four shadows of different colors."
"..Then I wake up in the middle of the night, curled up in a ball, trembling all night, feeling cold no matter how many blankets I have."
"You know what? In our settlement, all the local Baal bugs that used to chirp have been killed because we survivors instinctively get scared and grab our weapons as soon as we hear a bug chirping."
"Then you..." Youji looked at the other Netherworld survivors around him. "..Is it hatred?"
"Maybe, mostly, I guess," Lager said, leaning against the defensive line. "Life in the hive city wasn't great, actually. It was tiring and hard, and you never knew when you'd die in some alley. But the Tyranids came, and they didn't even leave us that much."
"The people of the Netherworld have lost everything, leaving them only the chance for revenge. It's this one breath that keeps them from falling."
"But me... I actually have another reason." Lager grinned and said, "My acquaintances, Boss Reyna, Alexander, Brother One-Eye—they are all top-notch heroes, the kind whose souls would return to the Golden Throne even if they died."
"But I'm not. I've lived for decades just as a small-time thug... Haha, I feel like I won't live much longer either. This last chance, I want to do something that can catch up to them... That way, maybe when I die, my soul can return to the Golden Throne and I can drink with them."
As he spoke, Lager couldn't help but laugh aloud.
Just as Youji was about to say something, the ground suddenly vibrated.
In the distance, a sky full of fire, composed of spore drop pods, fell, igniting the entire sky of Baal.
"They're here." Lager suddenly jumped up from the ground, raising his lasgun and staring intently at the purple tide surging on the distant horizon.
The Tyranid creatures emerging from the wet spore sacs let out deafening roars and howls.
Tyranid hive Tyrants, Warriors, Broodlords, Carnifex—all kinds of Tyranid creatures emerged from within.
Angel Keep's firepower began to unleash, and the mortals raised their lasguns, standing behind the defensive line.
The war began once more.
Within Baal's Heart, Alexander and Mephiston leaped out of the Warp rift, returning to the real universe.
A beast-like roar erupted from the Warp rift, which resembled a grotesque wound, and several Bloodletters, chasing Mephiston, jumped out of the Warp rift.
These lesser daemons from the Blood God's domain had not yet had a chance to taste the sweetness of reality, to offer more blood and skulls to the Blood God, when Mephiston suddenly flicked his hand.
A cerulean psychic lightning roared through the Bloodletters' bodies, instantly destroying their physical forms in the material universe.
These Bloodletters let out sharp, piercing roars, turning into dust and dissipating in reality, easily banished back to the real universe by Mephiston.
Seeing Mephiston and Alexander leave the Warp, the circling Librarians let out a collective sigh of relief. They immediately severed the blasphemous ritual.
The Warp rift, like a grotesque wound cut into the real universe, then closed. At the same time, the Librarians began to chant another blasphemous incantation, guiding the exit of the rift in the Warp to the Warp Engine within Alexander's four-dimensional pocket.
[Item: Bloodletters]
[Origin: Warp - Brass Fortress]
[Description: Khorne daemons wielding Hellblades, the most numerous daemons in Khorne's legions, fanatically and savagely pursue skulls, whether from allies or enemies. Hot in nature, pungent in taste, enters the heart and spleen meridians, has effects of warming the middle and dispelling cold, invigorating the stomach and promoting digestion, and seasoning in cooking. Can be used to treat cold-stagnation abdominal pain, vomiting, diarrhea, dysentery, and chilblains.]
[Production Time: ???]
[Status: Vigorous and Fresh]
[Value: 8888 credits]
[Item: Steel Bull]
[Origin: Warp - Brass Fortress]
[Description: A Warp daemon mount, a mixture of brass and beast, appearing as both flesh and machine, often ridden by mortals or daemons favored by Khorne. Hot in nature, bitter in taste, can induce terror, irritability, delirium, rashes, jaundice, hematemesis, epistaxis, bloody stools, carbuncles, and swelling.]
[Production Time: ???]
[Status: Vigorous and Fresh]
[Value: 8888 credits]
Bloodletters, Steel Bulls, and various other lesser Khorne daemons roared, brandishing their Hellblades, raising their brass horns on their heads, and whipping their steel whips as they surged out of the Warp Engine. However, what awaited them was not skulls worth cleaving or fierce battle,
Only a deep, cold, and dark void lay before them, with no existence of anything.
"Sell! Sell! Sell!"
Terrifying whispers echoed in their ears. These Khorne daemons stared blankly as their companions disappeared one by one into the darkness, until even they themselves seemed to dissolve into the dark void, vanishing into the four-dimensional pocket.
But Alexander waited for a moment, and Ka'Bandha still did not appear. This did not come as a surprise to Alexander.
Although many people thought Khorne and his daemons were just berserkers who only hacked and slashed, this was actually a misunderstanding.
Most of Khorne's daemons and followers were not brainless; they just didn't use their brains very often.
The Blood God's domain is essentially neither anger nor death or slaughter, but war—tactics and strategy are also his domain. He and his daemons not only know anger and slaughter but also excel at tactics and strategy.
Ka'Bandha was clearly not the type driven solely by bloodlust and rage. In the original timeline, Ka'Bandha, under Mephiston's influence, would be flung onto Baal Prime and would furiously hack at Tyranids there, creating a giant Khorne symbol made of Tyranid skulls covering the surface of Baal Prime.
Such satellite-scale artistic creation clearly could not be done by an idiot whose head was clouded by rage.
Alexander didn't expect him to fall for it. Even the Great Unclean One hadn't fallen for it back then, let alone Ka'Bandha, who was well-versed in tactics and strategy.
He reached into his four-dimensional pocket and slowly pulled out the anywhere door.
"What exactly are you two expecting?"
"Hoping I'd be blinded by rage and step into your trap?"
Ka'Bandha stood before the Warp rift that was supposed to lead to reality, a glint of shrewdness flashing in his yellowish eyes, and a mocking smile spread across his ape-like mouth:
"Do you think the Blood God's servants are all fools?"
Ka'Bandha was a Khorne Greater Daemon, not a daemon Primarch or a World Eater, and he didn't have Butcher's Nails hammered into his brain, so his thinking was normal and clear.
Through Mephiston and that sarcastic man's inexplicable retreat, he easily saw that the Warp rift before him clearly had a trap.
The Blood God praises courage and commends anger. Ka'Bandha always followed the Blood God's will, never retreating, always angry.
But Ka'Bandha's anger was autonomous, stemming from the Blood God and his own will, not artificially created by some machines hammered into skulls.
Therefore, Ka'Bandha's courage was not foolishness, and his anger was not idiocy. To knowingly jump into a trap, and even after jumping in, to be unable to offer more skulls to the Blood God, was not courage nor anger; it was purely a brain malfunction caused by too many Butcher's Nails.
However, Ka'Bandha didn't mind foolish mortals viewing him as a barbarian blinded by rage. He even enjoyed using this misunderstanding as his disguise.
Cunning didn't just belong to those blue-feathered birds; tactical and strategic deception were also part of war, part of the Blood God's domain.
He laughed at Mephiston's lack of intelligence and the sarcastic man's lack of foresight!
Ka'Bandha would use Mephiston and that sarcastic man's mistakes to open a new Warp rift and enter reality.
Click!!!
A crisp opening sound suddenly rang out behind Ka'Bandha. Ka'Bandha sharply twisted his head around, only to see a pinkish-red wooden door open very close behind him. The sarcastic man stood behind the door, humming a tune as he looked at Ka'Bandha.
"You're from Terra, give me back my blood, won't you~"
"I want to eat palace food~"
Alexander hummed a tune as he extended his hand towards Ka'Bandha, who stood before the Warp rift.
With his other hand, he pressed a button on the mechanicus device. Scorching starlight burst forth from Alexander's body—it was the radiance of Astramael from the Saint's Treasure Vault.
"Ka'Bandha, are you ready to repay the Emperor's favor?" Alexander asked softly.