Chapter 153: Tyranids: Shh, Can We Make Peace? (Patreon)

With a flicker of teleportation light, Jool, Colonel of the Blood Knights, arrived with his entire Chapter inside a fairly secluded passage.

He knew this was where he would die. But every holy relic of their Chapter, along with the records of its history, had been left behind.

That great being had promised to rebuild their Chapter anew, free of the curse. The only price was that these old men die gloriously.

After all, every one of them was a heavyweight in the Imperium, and just one step away from becoming a traitor. What stung even more was Loken. Jool didn't know exactly who he was.

But he was clearly a true veteran of ten thousand years. And his first reaction on seeing them was neither anger nor disgust, but … confusion.

"Why have you turned back into what you were before Sanguinius returned?"

That single sentence silenced the whole group, Dante included. The Red Thirst was no great secret to a genuinely old-guard Marine. No wonder that Dragon Emperor had understood everything at a glance.

What humiliated them most was that their genetic father, Sanguinius, had given everything to change the Blood Angels. Now they had slipped right back, which amounted to a complete denial of their own gene-father.

Right then, swarms of Lictors and Tyranid Warriors came charging in. The Marines, freed from their restraints and lost to the Red Thirst, hurled themselves at the enemy.

*

Outside, Heydrich frowned. The war had only just begun, and there were heavier hitters than the Blood Knights still to deal with. The Flesh Tearers, for one.

That Chapter was an old-guard force even among the Blood Angels, split off from the parent Chapter during the Second Founding.

Unlike the Lion and Rogal Dorn, who had resisted fiercely at the time, the Blood Angels were one of only two Legions left without a father. They had no say, so they dutifully split as ordered. And then the split caused problems: the Red Thirst went completely off the rails.

"You Blood Angels really are hidden dragons, crouching tigers. Seth, right? For some reason, I feel like laughing every time I look at you. Never mind. You hold this area. Your Black Rage isn't severe, so use your own judgment."

People say the Dark Angels are full of unspeakable secrets, but their secrets are really just for a laugh. The stability of the Lion's gene-seed was about on par with the Ultramarines, with no obvious mutations.

By Heydrich's understanding, the most stable gene-seed belonged to the Ultramarines, the Dark Angels and the Imperial Fists. The Imperial Fists' main issue was that their gene-seed had degraded from missing two processes. They also had Dorn's Darkness, but it wasn't a serious problem.

The Blood Angels were the real heavyweights. No wonder they were the Primarch and Legion Khorne chose in the first place. Like Mortarion and Magnus, when Erda threw them out to drift in the Warp.

The Dark Gods of the Warp had planted landmines in all of them. In the end, Angron was what they harvested, but the curses were passed down regardless.

"Yes, my lord."

At Heydrich's words, Seth couldn't help scratching his big bald head, but in the end he said nothing more. At least the Flesh Tearers had held the final line, and what plagued them was not the Red Thirst but the Black Rage.

That was easy enough to explain. Many Apothecaries who had served in the Deathwatch understood their problem well.

"I'm putting the Death Company under your command. The rest is up to you. And wake every Dreadnought. This isn't Baal, but victory or defeat here bears directly on Baal's safety. They must join the fight."

Dante took a deep breath. After handing the Death Company's Dreadnoughts and soldiers over to Seth, he let him choose a suitable battlefield himself. They had no supporting troops either.

"Yes, my lord."

At Dante's words, the Blood Angels' Techmarines began awakening their Dreadnoughts.

As for Heydrich, he blinked. He had empty Dreadnoughts of his own, but nobody at all to put in them. With his medical capabilities, as long as you didn't die on the spot, he could heal you even if only your head and heart remained.

Entering a Dreadnought was mainly for those whose injuries weren't merely physical but carried some Warp corruption. In Warhammer 40K, some ancient Dreadnoughts had been quietly corrupted, then sprung a nasty surprise on their Chapters.

Of course that was impossible here. Souls couldn't be corrupted, though bodies might fail to withstand it, and so far Heydrich hadn't met a single unlucky case like that.

So his Dreadnought roster came down to exactly one: Rylanor.

"He won't hit me, will he?"

Thinking of Rylanor sleeping in his base, Heydrich couldn't help muttering. He wasn't sure whether this counted as bullying. After all, Akurduana had taken every newly born Emperor's Child to the battlefield, while this old veteran was left to sleep.

"Forget it. Pretend I forgot."

Heydrich quickly tossed the thought aside, because the Tyranid swarm was already appearing before him.

This time both Heydrich and the Lion had left the command room. General Dhrost was now in charge of command and coordination.

The front line had contracted considerably, which eased the pressure of command. Or rather, they only had to watch the fighting right in front of them. As long as this line wasn't broken through, victory was just a matter of time.

Sure enough, almost the next instant a Lictor leapt at him.

To Heydrich, the thing was a speed bump on the road. One casual slash cut it down.

Before long, as the biggest and flashiest hulk in the area, he drew the attention of the entire field. Countless Tyranid Warriors charged at him. This time the swarm was going for attrition.

In other words, they would make him kill until his arms went numb. He was still a creature of the physical universe, after all. Surely he had a stamina bar.

A standard Marine could slaughter mortals with ease, but pitting a lone ordinary Chaos Astartes against a single Astra Militarum regiment was unrealistic.

As long as the regiment's morale held, it could wear a Marine down to death. Ceramite armor was fearsome, but the Astra Militarum had plenty of can openers.

"Time to show my real skills."

Looking at the endless Tyranid swarm, Heydrich smiled. Those besieging him were all Tyranid Warriors at the least, so the swarm clearly valued him highly.

He was now rather curious whether a Tyranid Norn Emissary was hiding somewhere in there. He had also prepared to detonate the Memetic Virus he'd hidden earlier. With the right timing, it could crush this Hive Fleet completely.

They loved to eat, and they had never met anyone who could directly corrupt … sorry, sanctify their units. Their first encounter was bound to cost them dearly.

"The timing isn't ripe yet. The Invincible Reason hasn't reached its battle position."

Even as he kept instantly killing the charging Tyranid Warriors, Lictors and Executioners with his hands, most of his attention was on the planetary orbit, where the Dark Angels' and Blood Angels' fleets sat.

They finally had some space power to trade blows with the bugs, though they were still certain to lose.

Fighting a Hive Fleet in close quarters was practically suicide. It also needed coordination with the Hive Fleet that Heydrich had secretly Ultra-fied.

Now, with the Hive Mind going all-in, Heydrich could clearly sense how weak the Hive Fleet had become.

Assembling such an enormous army had cost the Hive Fleet dearly. It had already hurled many of its mother ships down as raw feed, and the rest were severely weakened.

Warhammer did still care about science a little, though not much. Biomass couldn't be conjured from nothing, and producing numbers like these had drained the Hive Mind badly.

When they were at their weakest, that would be the moment for Heydrich to deliver the final blow.

"They have to get into the planned position before I can trigger it. Pity the Imperial Navy is all dead …"

Heydrich cursed the navy out once more, though cursing was all he could do.

They were wiped out to the last ship, and he couldn't even find a target to vent on.

All he could do now was strike a fatal blow while the swarm was at its weakest, so he had to make do with this chance.

*

As the battle began, every sector erupted into close combat.

"Please, don't let anything go wrong with these people …"

The Lion was in much the same situation as Heydrich. He knew a few psychic power tricks, but at heart he wasn't much different from Guilliman: both fought with one cut, one kill.

Heydrich had many techniques, but without using the special abilities of his Path, on raw stats alone he and the Lion were about even.

So their combat efficiency was about equal, and the Lion felt only moderate pressure. He started keeping an eye on Heydrich's Solar Auxilia, because he truly didn't dare let Heydrich's soldiers be wiped out.

After all, Heydrich had once asked him …

"The Imperium is in turmoil now, and Imperium Nihilus especially is a hotbed of Chaos and xenos. So the Imperium needs a Warmaster of Imperium Nihilus. If Guilliman returns to Holy Terra, he can recommend a new Warmaster directly."

So, for the sake of the Warmaster's seat, the Lion absolutely could not let Heydrich's people suffer too heavily.

Meanwhile, elsewhere on the battlefield, Asmodai had led a squad up to the front.

He might rave like a lunatic all day, but his fighting strength was no joke. If it were, he'd have died long ago.

The charging Tyranid Warriors couldn't stop him. The great hammer in his hands swung like a spear. With one blow he blasted a Tyranid Warrior to pieces, then backhanded a stomp that crushed it to pulp.

Another swing killed a Lictor lunging from ambush. But just then …

Bang!!!

With a dull thud, Asmodai went flying. A massive figure then slammed down in front of them, and everyone took a sharp breath at the sight of it.

An Executioner.

Heydrich and the Lion might casually disembowel these things, but it was a heavy-duty bug built to match a Dreadnought.

Now even Asmodai had been caught off guard by it. The trick was that it used a mass of Tyranid Warriors as Hormagaunts, then struck out of nowhere.

In that situation, never mind Asmodai. Someone of Dante's or Calgar's caliber would suffer badly from a single slip.

Ordinary Hormagaunts working with Tyranid Warriors were enough to kill a Marine. In the prologue of Space Marine 2, Titus's squadmates met exactly that fate.

"Gah …"

Asmodai pulled off his helmet and abruptly spat out a mouthful of blood, flecked with fragments of organ. Although his Terminator power armor had blocked much of the blow, the damage was still severe.

But right then …

Boom!!!

A deafening explosion went off on the Executioner's body, blowing a huge gash in its flesh.

"Roar …"

The Executioner bellowed in pain and turned, almost in disbelief. Its defenses could take boltgun fire head-on without much trouble. How could a mere mortal …

"Volkite weapons!!!"

Asmodai had risen from the ground. He leapt onto the Executioner's head in one bound.

The great hammer in his hands crackled with thunder, and then he brought it crashing down.

Squelch!!!

The already badly wounded Executioner staggered under the blow. Swarms of Tyranid Warriors rushed in, but lasguns and Volkite weapons fired in sequence and suppressed them for the moment. At the same time, light flared in the sky and several Voidrangers were teleported onto the battlefield.

"For the Emperor!!!"

At the sound of their fanatical war cries, the Tyranid Warriors scattered as if they'd seen a ghost.

But the Voidrangers moved fast. They were Path-touched creations that Heydrich had strengthened. The main problem was that they were far too unstable and could only be used as suicide bombs.

Their numbers were still sufficient, though. In an instant, the Voidrangers grabbed the nearest Tyranid Warriors and then …

Hum!!!

With a low, muffled thrum, the man vanished along with the Tyranid Warrior.

The other Tyranid Warriors weren't killed in the blast, but they scattered anyway.

Dropping Voidrangers this time was different from before. Now they were mainly used to block the enemy's advance.

"Come on, face me, you scum!!!"

A few other Voidrangers roared with laughter at the Tyranid swarm that eyed them like a plague god. Their gaze swept across the field and landed on the Executioner that Asmodai had wounded.

At the sight of those men's eyes, the Executioner's fierce gaze actually cleared.

"Shh … can we make peace?"

"Hahaha, come on, scum!!!"

In that instant the Voidrangers charged at the Executioner, and both the Executioner and Asmodai were scared out of their wits. Even Asmodai didn't hesitate and turned tail to run. Even he gave this thing a wide berth.