Seraphs of the Emperor’s Judgment

Chapter 46: A Bitter Victory

"Ugh..."

When Soshyan drew his sword from Morinit's chest, the World Eater let out a low groan.

Subsequently, he blindly swung his chainaxe, as if wielding a torch to drive away the darkness, but failed to strike any target.

The aura of icy revulsion radiating from Soshyan intensified. Morinit felt as if what stood before him wasn't a Space Marine, but a miniature black hole, tearing his soul from its mortal vessel bit by bit.

This sensation left him utterly terrified, for his soul belonged solely to the Blood God. If he could not return to the Blood God's throne, everything he had fought for would be meaningless.

"Get away! Get away!"

Morinit roared, trying to drive his opponent back, but it was useless.

The silver-grey silhouette blurred past him. The next moment, with a heavy clang, the serrated battle axe dropped to the floor, accompanied by the hand that had gripped it.

Wherever the World Eater's blood flowed, it gleamed like molten gold against the metal deck. The fuel tanks were still burning, and sparks were whipped into the air by the wind like swarms of fireflies, turning to charred ash as they drifted back down.

Drawing the combat dagger strapped to his calf, the World Eater tried to rise to his knees, but the tip of the sword was already resting just beneath his jaw."You have failed. Your so-called god did not protect you."

Soshyan said, panting heavily. The transcendent sensations had left him, and icy blood was freezing his heart.

Yet, he remained standing, pressing the tip of his sword against the soft joint of the World Eater's throat armor. The kaleidoscopic colors of the disruption field cascaded around the silver blade, yet didn't touch the surface of the gorget in the slightest.

"The Emperor will spit on your soul. Die."

That moment was imminent. With just a slight flick of his wrist and a touch of pressure, the World Eater's head would roll off his shoulders.

Soshyan gritted his teeth and flicked his wrist.

But the blade did not move. It rested quietly against the World Eater's throat, but could not thrust forward.

There was no gasp of a severed windpipe and severed artery, no sensation of a head separating from its neck.

Soshyan felt a block of ice lodge in his throat. His limbs felt as heavy as cast iron. He struggled to command his sword arm, but met with resistance. The blade still refused to move an inch.

As his body rebelled against him, a trembling numbness spread from his fingertips and crawled up his arm.

"Why now..."

A wave of intense dizziness smashed into Soshyan's mind. The muscles in his sword arm spasmed, taut tendons compressing against bone.

A biting chill inundated his senses, his vision narrowing until everything before him compressed into a single line.

The next second, all sound ceased, and a wave of vertigo stole the balance from his legs.

"Blood God above—"

It was a freezing, heavy impact that forced Soshyan's world back into focus. Morinit surged upward abruptly, slamming directly into his chest. The combat dagger sank halfway into his torso.

Now unhelmed, Morinit spat out a large breath through gritted teeth, his ruined face contorted into a mosaic of pain.

He strained with all his might, trying to drive the short blade entirely through his opponent's chest.

He almost succeeded.

The dagger penetrated the ceramite plate, the black carapace, and the bone-shield of the ribs, but just before it could touch the heart, an intense chill crept up the blade and into Morinit's shoulder. He found he had instantly lost control of his arm.

"Blood God! The Blood God is opening his arms to me!"

The World Eater laughed maniacally, falling backward and drawing the dagger out in the process.

Instantly, sticky blood began to flow intermittently down the silver-grey armor. Just as he was about to thrust a second time, Soshyan's longsword impaled his head from top to bottom.

Accompanied by a gargling death rattle, the World Eater's nearly cloven skull sprayed its final mouthful of blood, defiling the aquila on Soshyan's chest, before he went limp on the deck.

"Urg..."

Soshyan released the sword, stumbling several steps backward before dropping to his knees, clutching the wound on his chest.

He was lucky; his opponent's blade tip had been just a hair away from his heart. Although not a fatal blow even if it had connected, he would still need a period of recovery before he could fight again.

"Chapter Master!"

The Chapter's recruits immediately swarmed around him anxiously, including Apothecary Nasim Balitaem. He instantly injected a massive dose of combat stimms and coagulants into Soshyan's body, but when his fingers brushed Soshyan's neck, he jumped in shock.

"Chapter Master! Your body temperature—"

Soshyan raised a hand and shook it gently, signaling him to keep quiet. Balitaem immediately shut his mouth and silently tended to Soshyan's wound.

Noticing that his core temperature had already begun to slowly rise, Soshyan grasped the Apothecary's busy hands and said:

"I'm fine now. Hurry and harvest the gene-seed of our fallen brothers."

"Yes."

Balitaem stood up and began tallying the casualties.

During the earlier skirmish, three Battle Brothers had perished in action; another was severely wounded, and three others sustained minor injuries.

The lightly wounded could already move on their own. The severely wounded warrior had primarily lost an arm, along with some head trauma. Balitaem provided rudimentary treatment and prepared to transfer him back to the medicae deck aboard the 'Starfire' for further operations, before turning his attention to the three fallen warriors.

He knelt beside the remains of one Battle Brother. The warrior's armor had been hacked into a mess, but it still retained enough of its original shape.

Balitaem rolled the corpse over, the dead man's helmet striking the deck with a heavy thud.

Subsequently, he extended his hands, setting to work on extracting his brother's gene-seed. First, the narthecium gauntlet trembled, then its built-in servos whined like buzzing insects. Driven by the hum, the reductor's diamantine saw and vibro-scalpel began slicing through the shattered ceramite.

However, due to his lack of experience, Balitaem's progress was slow. The Apothecary gritted his teeth, pressing the reductor tool against armor plating that had fused together from impact and extreme heat. Only after applying enough force did he finally carve open a fissure through the blackened shell.

Then he quickly inserted his fingers, peeling back the warrior's gorget.

The fallen warrior's face was terrifyingly pale, smeared with dried blood. His eyes were wide open, as if he were still glaring furiously at the enemy even in death.

For a moment, the Apothecary didn't recognize the dead man's identity, but he finally remembered.

Moria.

A Battle Brother attached to the First Tactical Squad, and a recruit who had undergone augmentation during the same period as himself.

The Apothecary closed his eyes for a moment, mourning the passing of his comrade. Then, pressing the narthecium gauntlet beneath the corpse's jawline, he activated the extractor.

With a wet, sickening pop, a chunk of pinkish-grey flesh shot into the reductor's glass vial. The Apothecary then visually inspected the tissue mass, and after confirming it remained intact, sealed it within the storage cylinder.

Upon returning to the 'Starfire', he would still need to conduct further examinations on the harvested gene-seed to ensure there were no anomalies before it could be preserved as part of the Chapter's reserves.

Following this, he plunged the drill directly into the chest of the slain warrior, burying it deep to extract the second progenoid gland.

Though they were recruits, they had all undergone augmentation for over a decade, meaning their new gene-seeds had fully matured.

After securing the first fallen warrior's gene-seed, Balitaem moved on to the second. With the experience gained from the first, his progress on the second was much faster.

During this process, Soshyan's body temperature had more or less recovered. After touching his wound to confirm the bleeding had stopped, he used his vox-caster to summon a Techmarine to recover the wargear.

Just then, a stumbling red figure crashed into his vision.