Seraphs of the Emperor’s Judgment

Chapter 155: Freeblade

Baron Olga, the final knight of House Du Pont de Nemours and pilot of the Knight Mech Scorpion Sting, cursed the rune panel to his right as it flickered from amber to red.

Ammunition depleted—

The melta cannon had also expended its last drops of fuel, having turned the surging Ork tide into bloody mist.

Just as they had done all day, the xenos scaled the fortifications, and he annihilated them.

He had guarded this landing zone through the night, because he had to.

The thunderstrike gauntlet on the Knight's left arm was active, the air pulsing around the massive fist cloaked in an aura of blue lightning.

The damned greenskins had breached the bastion, swarming around his feet, hacking feebly at the House's sacred Imperial Knight with crude axes and cleavers.

There were no longer any Astra Militarum forces left to drive them back; the final detachment of Imperial troops had sacrificed themselves nearly half an hour prior.

The sentinels flanking him had long since been torn apart by the xenos torrent.

Friendly forces were almost completely wiped out. He was alone.Yet the Orks continued to pour forth in an endless tide.

He brought a foot down in a savage stomp, accompanied by a horrific crunch, pulverizing a pack of the vile xenos.

A backhand sweep of his gauntlet obliterated three or more scaling the parapet, their roars vanishing amidst the crackling thunder of the fist's terrifying energy discharge.

Another backhand pulverized two more Orks.

As mighty as he was, Olga knew he was not invulnerable.

His Imperial Knight's armor was fragmented from the sustained damage, the House's aquamarine heraldry marred by cracks and craters.

The Knight's pain flowed into his consciousness through the neural pathways of the command Throne. Over a dozen fresh scars and countless lacerations stung his mind.

However, compared to the proud battle-fury of the Machine Spirit, it was nothing.

He would die here, before the sun set, but he would fulfill his House's duty unto death: purging the enemies of humanity.

For he was a Freeblade, a sword of the Emperor.

Imperial Knights were humanity's steadfast and reliable protectors. Peerless warriors piloted these towering mechs into the fray.

Equipped with armaments capable of effortlessly scattering massive enemy hosts, Knight Mechs fought shoulder-to-shoulder amidst the vast armies of humanity.

Thousands of years before the rise of the Imperium, fleets of the Martian Mechanicum had already voyaged among the stars, establishing colonial outposts on distant worlds. Among the myriad colonial assets, Knight Mechs were highly revered as war machines. Serving as protectors, they stood between the colonists and anything that truly threatened them.

Millennia later, the pilots of these mechs had cultivated their own rich cultures, establishing noble councils sworn to defend their homeworlds.

The first Knight worlds were established when humanity spread across the stars. They survived the Age of Strife and returned to humanity's embrace during the Great Crusade.

Each Knight world was a concentrated, formidable army, swearing allegiance either to the Imperium's Departmento Internus or the Adeptus Mechanicus.

Due to their differing allegiances, these Knight worlds walked divergent paths.

Those loyal to the Emperor were known as Imperial Knights; they merely required the Adeptus Mechanicus to maintain their Knight Mechs.

The others, who served the Omnissiah, were termed Mechanicus Knights. Although they also fought for the Imperium, in reality, they obeyed orders exclusively from Mars.

Certain exiled House Knights, or the last surviving nobles of a House, became known as Freeblades.

Though these wandering mercenaries no longer possessed official affiliations, they still fought for the Imperium. However, they sometimes exhibited peculiar traits or would accept employment from various Imperial factions.

Despite their differing masteries, Imperial Knight worlds and Mechanicus Knight worlds still shared several commonalities—these planets were ruled by one or more Houses, with all Knights swearing loyalty to the planet's supreme ruler, typically styled as the High King or High Lord.

All inhabitants of a Knight world lived within a feudal society. Serfs labored to provide for the nobles, while the nobles protected the serfs from xenos, beasts, and heretical attacks.

Everyone was surrounded by layers of tradition and ritual, ceremonies passed down for millennia. In fact, many nobles sought war merely to escape the drudgery of these rituals.

Knight worlds occasionally engaged in civil wars or honor duels, but such losses were swiftly replenished by rapid Imperial aid.

Another commonality among Knight worlds was the presence of Sacristans—specialized Tech-priests responsible for maintaining the Knight chassis.

These individuals were trained by Mars, well-versed in all knowledge pertaining to Knights, ensuring they remained combat-capable.

Numerous records emphasized the importance of Sacristans on martial Knight worlds, highlighting their role in keeping reactors and weaponry operational.

Therefore, it was a common sight post-battle to see a Knight enter a servo-gantry, immediately swarmed by Sacristans. They would spend considerable time repainting the Knight's armor and repairing various damages.

An interesting point to note was that according to the Chivalric Code, a Knight must not only be formidable in combat but also aesthetically pleasing.

Although Imperial Knights often struck commoners as strange and ancient, they remained superb allies.

Knight Titans were colossal war machines towering over the battlefield. Supported by powerful servo-systems, they charged into combat, punting tanks aside or grinding soldiers into bloody mulch upon the ground.

The vulnerable sections of their limbs and joints were plated with thick, robust adamantium armor. Furthermore, they housed integrated ion shields that could instantly respond to the noble pilot's mental commands.

Since the Horus Heresy, the need for Knights had only grown ever more pressing.

From the bastions of the Segmentum Solar to the fortresses of the Ghoul Stars, from the white-hot battlefields of the Cadian sector to the fringes of the Ultima Segmentum, Imperial Knights were at war.

For they understood the stakes of these conflicts: if the Imperium fell, humanity perished. If the Imperium prevailed, they would stand triumphant atop the corpses of traitors and xenos.

For the sake of honor, the nobles forsook everything to join the fray.

Olga had done the same. As a Freeblade, he accepted the Expeditionary Army's invitation to participate in the purge of the greenskins within the Vorenus system.

Yet, to his surprise, the xenos seemed to have grown somewhat cleverer after enduring so many defeats.

Instead of cowering on the planetary surface awaiting their doom, they had constructed several artificial orbital fortress-moons around Vorenus Prime. Each of these fortresses was as massive as a natural moon.

Initially, the strike fleets believed these to be ordinary satellites. But once the landing forces established beachheads upon them, the moons unexpectedly bared their fangs.

Colossal orbital macro-cannons inflicted severe chaos and casualties upon the fleet, while the greenskins hiding within the moons swarmed out, dividing, encircling, and slaughtering the landing forces.

Olga's position was both the first and the last landing zone. If this location fell, the astronomically costly planetary assault would end in absolute failure.

Thus, he continued to hold the line, hoping for reinforcements that would likely never arrive.

In his heart, he knew the fleet was in a tight spot, completely overwhelmed, and unable to dispatch any reinforcements for the time being.

"With our blood, we forge an eternal legacy."

Olga took the House sigil beside him, pressed a kiss to it, and prepared to launch a final, suicidal charge to show these xenos the true iron will of humanity.

Suddenly, a vox-transmission interrupted his thoughts.

He hesitated for a moment before opening the public vox channel—he feared hearing a voice declaring defeat. He did not fear death, but he dreaded failure.

However, the voice that echoed within was new. It was not the weak tone of a mortal vox-officer, but a deep, resonant, and powerful masculine voice.

"Hold the line, Knight of House Du Pont de Nemours. The Astral Knights Chapter has arrived."