Seth followed Zeke's gaze toward the capillary tower.
"The Tyranids will transport all corpses—whether enemy or their own swarm—to that tower to be digested into nutrients."
He pointed to the top of the tower.
"But today, no spore clouds are emerging."
The top of that colossal tower should have been spewing out spore clouds rich in biomass continuously.
"This means," Seth's voice carried a hearty sense of satisfaction, "the swarm came up empty-handed today."
The Wardens killed them, leaving nothing behind.
They killed the Wardens, and still, nothing was left behind.
The wind blew from the wasteland, kicking up red dust and unfurling the Blood Angels battle standard that still fluttered stubbornly over the ruins of the castle.
The golden winged crest on the flag faintly reflected a few rays of dim light in the afterglow of doomsday.
Seth turned his head to look at Zeke.
"This is thanks to you."
En route to the castle, the scent of blood lingering in the crevices of the rocks hooked the Knights of Blood being escorted.
Even the filthy, rancid blood of the Tyranids triggered the Red Thirst in the hearts of the Knights of Blood.
"I want... I want... I want want want..."
They began to tremble all over, their breathing becoming heavy like bellows. Their eyes, which had been clear, were once again veiled in a layer of burning red light.
Seth walked at the front of the group; he didn't need to look back. He was all too familiar with this state.
Zeke glanced backward, raising an eyebrow.
"Yo, milk withdrawal kicking in again?"
Zeke held up a milk bucket, decanted it into small bottles, and distributed a bit to the Knights of Blood behind him.
Dividing it into small bottles didn't weaken the effect anyway, and it allowed for more uses.
The Knights of Blood received it. This time, they didn't gulp it down like Pigsy eating ginseng fruit; instead, they carefully took a sip.
"Truly a delicacy on earth." They stowed away the remaining Milk, saving it for next time.
Seth looked at the Knights of Blood recovering from the Red Thirst, assuming it was some kind of white blood, and didn't ask further.
Zeke's rescue hadn't come too late, nor too early.
The moons of Baal had already shed too much blood.
Along the way, Zeke saw too many Blood Angels—or rather, warriors who were once Blood Angels.
Countless corpses.
"Horus, why did you betray us!"
A hoarse roar came from behind a pile of rubble.
Zeke stopped. It was a warrior of the Death Company.
His lower body was completely gone; below the waist, there was only charred tissue at the wound.
He crawled forward through the blood and mud just like that, using his elbows and remaining upper body strength.
His fingernails were shattered, finger bones exposed, plowing ten shocking bloody trails on the ground.
He attacked everything: rubble, bug corpses, the air.
In his consciousness, completely consumed by the Black Rage, everything before him was Horus, that traitor from ten thousand years ago.
Seth stopped in his tracks.
He looked at this dying Death Company warrior, compassion appearing on his face.
Seth saw his own end. Granting them death was the greatest mercy.
This was also the true origin of the name "Death Company."
Seth raised his bolter, aiming the muzzle at his compatriot who was still cursing.
His hand didn't shake; he had done this too many times.
"Wait a moment. I think he can still be saved."
Zeke's voice.
"Impossible!" Seth refuted immediately.
There were very few Blood Angels who could survive falling into the Black Rage and remain lucid. Do you think you're a freak like Chief Librarian Mephiston?
Zeke didn't argue. He took out the Milk and reached out.
The approach of "Horus" immediately provoked an even more violent reaction from the Death Company marine.
"Horus, I f**k your..."
"I am not Horus," Zeke said calmly. "My name is Zeke."
Dodging attacks from someone missing their lower body and crawling with only their upper limbs really wasn't difficult.
Zeke found the right angle, crouched down, and fed the Milk into the Death Company marine's mouth.
The milky white liquid poured in. As the Death Company warrior swallowed, the milk flowed into the depths of his soul, which had been burned into a desert by the Black Rage.
The Death Company marine stopped struggling. He blinked.
The hallucination of Horus gradually faded, and the Death Company marine saw the person in front of him clearly.
"Cha... Chapter Master Seth," the Death Company marine looked at his own hands. "I survived?"
"I survived... I actually survived."
Seth stood there as if struck by lightning. His bolter was still raised, but the muzzle had long since drifted away from the target. "You must be joking."
Zeke stood up. Seeing the loss of composure in Seth's eyes, a mischievous thought suddenly occurred to him.
He held up the bucket of Milk and shook it in front of Chapter Master Seth. "Does your Death Company have any intention of changing its name?"
"How about 'Milk Company'?"
Seth didn't respond to the joke.
His gaze was pinned to the bottle in Zeke's hand. "Can it really clear the Black Rage?"
The next moment, this iron-blooded Chapter Master of the Flesh Tearers stepped forward, gripped Zeke's shoulders tightly with both hands, and shook him.
"Really? Tell me, is it real?!"
He shook Zeke like a drowning man clutching the last piece of driftwood.
"Yes, yes, it can." Zeke was dizzy from the shaking and hurriedly patted Seth's hands. "Stop shaking, stop shaking! If you don't believe me, try it yourself and you'll know."
He shoved the Milk into Seth's hands. Seth looked down, raised the Milk, and drank it all in one gulp.
The fury that had burned him for hundreds of years didn't disappear; Seth could feel it still existed, dormant at the bottom of his heart like a hibernating viper.
But, it no longer hurt.
For the first time, Seth could truly breathe without burden.
"Wonderful."
Two lines of tears slid down the face of this man of steel.
No one could understand what the Black Rage and the Red Thirst meant to the Blood Angels.
It was a fate every son of Sanguinius knew they would eventually march toward from the first day they became a Space Marine.
One day, in some battle, you would be completely consumed by this eternal fury.
You would kill enemies, and possibly kill comrades;
You would die fighting in madness, or be ended by your brothers' own hands after the battle.
A doomed, tragic finale.
Before Seth was sent here to execute this suicidal bait mission, he had already prepared himself.
He even vaguely looked forward to it. Rather than gradually exhausting his will over centuries of struggle and ultimately being reduced to a slave of the Black Rage in humiliation...
It was better to be drowned by the swarm on this land far from the homeworld and die like a warrior.
Dying isn't bad, he had thought.
But now...
He raised his head, letting the tears mix with the blood dust of Baal, blurring his vision.
"Being alive is actually pretty good too."
His voice was very soft, like a sigh.
"I must report this to Chapter Master Dante immediately." Seth pleaded with Zeke, "I hope you can come with me."
--
Goal = 700 Powerstones (Not complete)