Seraphs of the Emperor’s Judgment

Chapter 132: Excoriators Chapter

The Battle Barge, Endless Night, traveled steadily through the void. Its massive Engines maintained a low-speed operation, while Frigates nimbly accompanied its advance, weaving in and out of a reconnaissance area tens of thousands of kilometers wide.

The bottomless void contrasted against the Endless Night's blue-gray exterior. Like a vicious wolf on the hunt, the heavy armor on both sides of the hull was decorated with cold, staring skulls.

This giant ship had just emerged from The Warp a few hours ago. The aftershocks from the shutdown of the Geller field still emitted a dazzling white light, illuminating its adamantium hull.

The command bridge of the Endless Night was located at the rear of this massive vessel, heavily surrounded by towering spires, bulwarks, and sloped gun turrets.

A Void Shield rippled like sheer gauze over the several-meter-thick glass viewports. Below them were the bridge crew, who dedicated all their efforts to guaranteeing the ship sailed normally and keeping all its systems running flawlessly.

The space inside the bridge was absolutely immense. A cavernous Great Hall over two hundred meters long had been carved out of the central area of the warship.

Most of the hall's ceiling was transparent, with lenses arranged within steel grating, acting like a gateway to the Materium.

Beneath it was an open-air platform encircled by cranes, with armed Chapter Servants patrolling back and forth around each one.

Further down were the middle decks. Here, most of the personnel were Mortal crew members, primarily sailors and Mechanics clad in pearl-gray robes. Naturally, there were also anti-boarding troops among them, marching across the metal decks in their blast armor and transparent visors.

In certain places on the deck floor, there were openings that revealed the structures of the decks below.Crowded tactical workstations clustered here: rows upon rows of continuously vibrating Cogitator computers, and Servitors packed into dim trenches.

Many Servitors were bound by cables to their respective terminals, with massive tangles of pipes writhing across their spines or faces. The patch-like gray skin exposed amidst it all was the last remaining vestige of their humanity.

The way these people served was now different than before. Now, they were lobotomized slaves, forever shackled to the machines that maintained their lives, executing numb and rigid tasks over and over again.

Above all these levels, situated at the very rear of the bridge hall, was the command seat.

It was a hexagonal platform extending from an arched wall, ten meters in diameter and surrounded by thick steel handrails.

In the center of the large platform was a slightly raised dais, and in the center of the dais stood a throne—a heavy and sharply angular seat carved from solid granite.

It was so massive that a Mortal would struggle to sit comfortably upon it, but that wasn't an issue here—for no Mortal would ever dare set foot on this platform.

It had been completely empty for hours, but as the Endless Night approached its destination, all of this was about to change.

As the supporting pistons began to reciprocate and retract, the massive doors behind the throne hissed.

Then, they rumbled open.

A colossal figure walked through the heavy doors.

Magyar—Lord of the Sanctuary of Death, Chapter Master of the Excoriators Chapter, clad in his burly armor, strode onto the dais.

This redoubtable warrior wore Artificer Power Armour styled like a skeleton. The chest aquila was crafted from bent and twisted strips of ribs; the spread wings of the Imperial eagle seemed to gaze down the bone-lined corridor from high upon the throne. Every component of his power armor, from greaves to gauntlets, and from leg armor to gorget, was forged into a skeletal appearance. As he moved, the armor emitted a threatening, low, and rhythmic hum.

His demeanor was slow and unhurried; every action displayed caution and solemnity. The bones serving as trophies constantly swayed on his immense pauldrons, while his armor's back was draped in a bullet-riddled cape.

The Chapter Master's face shone like tanned leather, his full jaw framed by tufts of pitch-black mutton chops that were as glossy and neat as a predator's fur.

No one knew the actual age of this redoubtable Chapter Master, but most guessed he was at least seven hundred years old. He might be the oldest hero among the many Chapter Masters of the Imperium, second only to Dante, Chapter Master of the Blood Angels.

Arriving with him were other giants.

Astador, the Death Chaplain, clad in armor as pitch-black as a forge, his face hidden beneath the monotonous mask of his ancient helmet.

Hauganders, Captain of the 4th Company and Master of the Fleet, wearing battle-scarred armor, his rock-gray hair braided and hanging past his gorget—because of the customs of their homeworld, such hairstyles were not uncommon in the Excoriators Chapter.

The doors slid shut behind them, sealing off the platform where the trio stood.

Beneath them, the deck creaked under their weight.

Magyar examined the sensors with a bitter expression, the wrinkles on his forehead as deep as gray mountain ranges.

"Are we there?"

The voice erupted from his chest like a revving Rhino Engine.

The Brothers in the Chapter believed that he wouldn't even need to raise his voice during the fiercest of battles.

"Very soon."

Astador said softly:

"We will arrive at Nathan IV shortly."

Magyar muttered and plopped down onto the throne.

As a giant nearly three meters tall and two meters wide, his movements were incredibly relaxed and casual.

The Chapter Master's low brow was tightly furrowed, his green eyes flashing with clarity and vigilance.

"This is just too boring."

He said impatiently:

"Damn it, is it really necessary for us to spend time on this kind of socializing."

Generally speaking, as Astartes aged, they would become increasingly taciturn and stern, but Magyar was an exception.

Perhaps related to the Chapter's tradition—consuming the flesh and blood of their enemies—he maintained a fiery passion whether in battle or daily life. Because of this, he had not become melancholic over the passage of the years.

Of course, he would occasionally display a certain lack of solemnity.

The moment there was no battle, he would easily fall into a low mood.

For him, a life without a goal was a fragmented chore; a hunter needed some real prey.

"Chapter Master, we are going to visit a group of heroes."

Hauganders said, leaning his body slightly forward as if checking his helmet's visual feed.

As soon as he finished speaking, a semi-circular display screen wrapping around the command platform slowly descended and flickered on.

A brownish-red planet leaped into view, growing larger by the second, though the image was still a bit blurry and distorted because of the great distance.

"Nathan IV has already received our port entry request."

The 4th Company Commander said while carefully examining the data arriving simultaneously with the image.

"After entering the starport, we will take a Thunderhawk to arrive at their Monastery-Fortress."

As the images continuously transmitted back, Magyar stared at them, and his mood began to slowly change.

"They've established a Monastery-Fortress on it?"

"That should be the case."

Magyar leaped up from the throne, a smile appearing on his face that concealed a certain malice.

"If I remember correctly, this Chapter Master Soshyan is just a Recruit who has been in service for less than fifty years, isn't he."

The hazy image cleared up, and the planet's surface came into view. The dark brown was intermixed with dirty orange streaks; it looked like a rusted iron ball in the universe.

"Assuming the intelligence is correct."

"The young people nowadays really have a trick or two up their sleeves, huh."

He then let out a savage laugh.

"A Chapter with only thirty people left can actually rebuild a Monastery-Fortress, and poach from the Navy to boot."

He looked at Astador, then at Hauganders, his eyes radiating a gleam of excitement.

"I can't wait to meet him!"