Seraphs of the Emperor’s Judgment

Chapter 58: Daemonic Ship (4)

"This is..."

Sensing something, Soshyan turned his head and discovered a sealed airlock at the end of the right-hand branching corridor. The blast door was covered in claw marks and gouges, as well as many indescribable glyphs and images.

Instinct told Soshyan that the life signal was likely emanating from behind that door.

What was worse, tidal waves of monsters were surging toward them from both the front and rear; the only safe direction was toward that door.

"This way!"

Left with no other choice, Soshyan could only lead the squad straight for the airlock.

Upon arriving, he discovered that the door was actually locked from the outside. Seeing the tide of chaotic spawn surging ever closer, Soshyan immediately ordered his warriors to turn the heavy locking wheel.

Amidst the anguished screech of stressed metal and earsplitting friction, the heavy metal blast door, which had been sealed for who knew how many years, slowly groaned open just a crack. Soshyan peered inside, but there was only a thick, viscous darkness that even his night vision goggles could not penetrate.

"Get inside, quickly!"

Soshyan waved his hand, directing the warriors to slip inside one by one. He then pulverized three leaping monsters with a single sword strike, slipped inside sideways himself, and forcefully pushed the door shut.Strangely enough, the creatures ceased their commotion the moment the heavy doors sealed shut.

A deathly silence enveloped the squad. Gripping their weapons tightly, everyone vigilantly used their tactical lights to dispel the boundless darkness.

This space appeared to have once been a brig. The squad walked down a wide central thoroughfare, flanked on both sides by individual cells. Most of these consisted of metal bars as thick as a man's arm; some had been destroyed, with snapped metal pipes scattered across the deck.

A massive amount of dust hung suspended and motionless in the air. As the squad passed through, tossing up turbulent air currents, it was as if time itself, which had been frozen, resumed its flow.

"Sir!"

Armin's voice rang out over the vox. The squad followed the beam of his tactical light and discovered a set of remains.

The remains of an Astartes.

Soshyan stepped forward and cautiously prodded the corpse with his sword. The grey veins on his face had already vanished; he currently no longer possessed his potent anti-Warp capabilities and had to be exceptionally careful.

After confirming there was no danger, he crouched down and examined it closely.

In reality, this was a nearly empty shell of Power Armor, containing only some decayed skeletal remains. Clearly, time was not entirely stagnant in this place.

Judging by the crimson color of the Power Armor and the faintly visible insignia on the pauldron, this corpse had been a Word Bearer. The cause of his death was a penetrating wound straight through the faceplate of his helmet.

Based on the width and thickness of the gash on the helmet, Soshyan deduced that the weapon that killed him was a sword—a razor-sharp broadsword.

Furthermore, the attacker's strike was incredibly clean and swift. A single thrust with absolutely no wasted movement; the entire wound perfectly conformed to the blade's profile, with no fracturing around the edges.

A terrifying killer.

Soshyan stood up, confusion welling within him. They were aboard a Word Bearers warship, yet the Word Bearers themselves were the ones who had been slain.

Did the prisoners in this brig riot?

Or had there been a boarding action?

Pushing these questions down, Soshyan knew full well that now was not the time for exploring mysteries. The melta bombs' detonation timers were rapidly running out.

Just as he thought of this, Soshyan felt a tremor transmit through the soles of his boots.

The melta bombs had detonated.

"Sir—"

It wasn't just Soshyan; all the Space Marines felt the tremor. The vibration grew increasingly violent, as if the entire warship were beginning to tear itself apart.

"Move out!"

Seeing that their objective was complete, Soshyan didn't overthink things and immediately led the squad to find another exit.

They pressed forward, crossing the cell block, and sure enough, found a large blast door at the far end of the compartment.

However, the Space Marines all raised their bolters.

They had all noticed a clump of shadow huddled in the corner about thirty meters to the right of the blast door.

The moment everyone focused their gaze and tactical lights on the shadow, it moved.

With unbelievable speed, the entity charged straight at Soshyan's squad with heavy, thundering footsteps.

"Open fire!"

No further words were needed. The muzzles of the Space Marines' bolters flashed with fire, but without exception, their rounds all fell behind the entity. It was too fast.

In the blink of an eye, it had crossed the distance of nearly a hundred meters, arriving directly in front of Soshyan.

Soshyan raised his hand, thrusting the Holy Flame Sword straight at the entity like a thunderbolt, but immediately felt a massive force transmit through his grip.

His sword had been deflected.

Sparks flashed in the dark compartment for half a second. Soshyan then felt something hurtling straight for his face.

The grisly demise of the Word Bearer instantly flashed in his mind.

In order to avoid becoming the second corpse to hit the floor, he twisted his wrist, bringing the Holy Flame Sword around in a sweeping semi-circle to parry the incoming weapon.

But he miscalculated.

The threat before his eyes suddenly vanished, yet something hard pressed against his chest.

"This—!"

The six Space Marines around Soshyan instantly leveled their bolters at the entity standing opposite their Chapter Master. Under the harsh glare of tactical lights, a clean slit appeared in the tabard over Soshyan's Power Armor. The fabric fluttered to the deck, revealing the gleaming aquila emblem on his chestplate.

A broadsword, as bright as new, with its tip still razor-sharp, rested precisely against the aquila.

Only then did everyone realize clearly that their attacker was astonishingly a Space Marine!

Or rather, he looked like a Space Marine.

The man possessed the hulking physique of a Space Marine. A messy, weed-like mane of greyish-white hair cascaded down to his elbows, completely obscuring his face.

He also wore a heavily damaged suit of Power Armor, though its original appearance was very difficult to discern. Even the power pack was hastily patched with metal plates. One could only faintly recognize that the armor might once have been biased toward purple.

"Who are you?"

After a moment of silence, Soshyan and the mysterious Space Marine spoke simultaneously.

Then followed another stretch of silence.

"I am Soshyan Alexei, Chapter Master of the Astral Knights."

Ultimately, it was Soshyan who introduced himself first.

But after hearing this, the man did not respond, nor did he lower his sword.

Soshyan could feel that with a simple flex of intent, the blade could instantly pierce his heart.

"Lower your weapon!"

Armin couldn't hold back any longer. Aiming his bolter squarely at the mysterious Space Marine's head, he bellowed.

"Which Legion..."

Subsequently, a hoarse, ghostly voice drifted out from beneath the tangled hair.

"...Do you belong to?"

The squad exchanged glances, momentarily unsure of how to answer. In the end, it was Soshyan who spoke:

"We are the Sons of Dorn."

"Dorn... the Imperial Fists."

The man let out a long sigh, carrying complex emotions that Soshyan found difficult to fathom.

Then, he withdrew his sword.

"So then, Terra... was it held?"

"Just who are you?"

Faced with these bizarre words, Soshyan had formed a hypothesis, though he wasn't certain—after all, it sounded utterly inconceivable.

The man, however, finally confirmed his guess.

He planted his sword into the deck and used both hands to sweep the hair off his face, revealing a visage caked in grime yet undeniably handsome.

"Third Legion, Captain of the 10th Company, Saul Tarvitz."