novelraw Chapter 86: Execution
Chapter 86: Execution
"M-My Lord! Th-this does not conform to the Lex Imperialis!"
West cried out loudly, but fear flashed behind his teeth.
"Other Imperial institutions will arrive to guide this city through the turbulent days ahead. As for your petty little gathering—"
Soshyan spat out the words clearly.
"It won't even be recorded in history."
In the next second, ten gun barrels aimed at the terrified West. Just as he picked up his feet to run, Soshyan clenched his hand into a fist.
In an instant, the Bolters erupted in a perfectly coordinated rhythm.
The intense sonic booms nearly shattered all the stained-glass windows, allowing the first rays of dawn to spill into the council hall.
"In the name of the Emperor of Mankind, we declare you wicked Traitors. The penalty is execution."
Before he could even let out a scream, West's flesh and blood exploded onto the Space Marines nearest to him—including Soshyan—painting their silver-grey armor with blood vessels and intestines. Even his bones were smashed to pieces, clattering down from their helmets and breastplates.A barely identifiable piece of sternum was even blasted up against the ceiling, leaving a grisly brand.
Even the white smoke venting from the muzzles was dyed a vibrant scarlet. Curling and twining in wisps, it added a scent of gunpowder to the blood-soaked dais.
"Cease fire."
At Soshyan's command, the Astartes halted the execution, but they did not lower their weapons.
The sudden and violent outburst of the Astartes truly shocked everyone present. The men and women clad in opulent garments convulsed in restless terror, tears streaming from their eyes.
Soshyan turned toward Sol at the bottom of the steps, finding that the other had stopped midway up.
A hundred local dignitaries in silk robes were staring at them, and fifty guards were doing the exact same thing. No one moved; most weren't even blinking.
Clearly, this was not the show they had been anticipating.
"What about them?"
Soshyan asked Sol, his voice sounding like a heavy, low growl through his helmet's vox-caster.
"Purge."
A High Gothic word formed on Sol's lips.
The Astartes raised their weapons once more, causing the people below to immediately scatter and flee in terror.
"YT-0001, lock these pests in."
Soshyan issued the command over the vox-caster, while the others began firing, mowing down the slowest runners or those who dared raise arms against them.
A few insignificant, small-caliber bullets struck Soshyan's armor. He indifferently raised his gun, the crosshairs skipping from one robed figure to the next, while lengthy white biometric data constantly flickered alongside.
All of this was unimportant; these people were pests.
He subsequently turned off his retinal display, firing at will as he strode forward.
On the other side, Sol used his sword to either bisect or decapitate those attempting to flee toward the side doors.
Throughout this entire process, his face bore no trace of emotion, as indifferent as a statue.
The dignitaries of Cetis had entirely lost their former graceful bearing. Instead, much like those Serfs who had once been driven to madness by starvation, they madly pounded against the doors of the council hall, shoving each other as they desperately attempted to escape.
Their terror coalesced into a discordant din, blending with the muffled thuds of fists striking solid bronze. Amidst their sobs and screams, they were consecutively blown to pieces by bolts, popping like overstuffed blood bags.
Yet beneath the onslaught of the dying nobles, the doors held fast. They completely failed to understand why these doors were so unyielding today.
Less than a minute later, all the guns fell silent, and swords were sheathed.
When Soshyan finally lowered his arm, the hinges of the massive bronze doors shattered instantly, revealing a silver-grey metallic construct standing outside.
The once-opulent hall had been reduced to an abattoir.
Torn corpses lay in pieces across the red carpet, emitting a foul stench.
The blood of an entire city's worth of dignitaries flowed across the floor. Soshyan stood ankle-deep in a lake of fresh blood, gripping his Bolter. Flecks of red blood on his face inadvertently formed a terrifying tattoo.
"It is finished."
His Power Armor, too, was dyed red with blood, making it completely impossible to discern where one bloodstain ended and another began.
"We will return to orbit."
Soshyan's voice echoed dully throughout the hall.
"Instructor Sol?"
At this moment, he suddenly realized that Sol had ignored his words and was instead scanning the corpses.
Following his gaze, he saw one of the guards half-slumped against the wall, his ruptured body scattered all over the red carpet—everything beneath his stomach was missing.
For some inexplicable reason, he was still alive. Glaring furiously at the Astartes, a Lasgun lay in his trembling hands, taking aim at the source that had destroyed everything.
Sol spotted this one who had slipped through the net at the exact same moment. He swung his sword before the guard could fire.
The Lasgun fractured the moment it fired. The beam hummed past Soshyan's right side, burning a crater into the gilded wall.
As for the guard himself, he was cleaved right down the middle of his face by Sol's sword, dead beyond dead.
"My thanks."
"I merely did what I should. Now we—"
Suddenly, a commotion arose from outside. Soshyan stepped out to take a look, discovering that a landing craft had touched down in the center of the city.
Following that, a bald man wearing the uniform of the Departmento Munitorum stepped out from the open cabin door, covering his nose with a handkerchief.
When he saw the blood-drenched Astartes, he froze.
Ultimately, stimulated by the overpowering stench of blood, this Departmento Munitorum official threw all caution to the wind and bent over, vomiting uncontrollably.
Soshyan cast him a glance before turning his head, shifting his gaze toward the hanging cages erected in the plaza. Inside were the last survivors of the rebel army, including that retired Lieutenant.
Two hours later—
"...We made a promise, allowing them to lay down their arms and guaranteeing the safety of their lives, yet these people broke our oath and deceived us."
"I see, I see."
The Departmento Munitorum official, while wiping the sweat from his brow with his handkerchief, used his Dataslate to record the situation as Soshyan described it.
Through the other party's identity, Soshyan finally learned that West had never possessed any so-called Departmento Justitiae authorization. What he had obtained was merely a Departmento Munitorum application for tax exemption investigation.
That bastard truly had guts aplenty, actually attempting to bluff an Astartes.
"Looking at it this way, that bunch truly deserved to die! Deserved to die!"
The bald man forced a placating smile as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Truth be told, an incident like this was far beyond what a petty clerk like him could handle.
An Astartes Chapter slaughtering the entire upper echelon of a city.
No matter where this was placed, it was an incredibly shocking event. At the very least, it required someone of the Planetary Governor's rank to have the authority to inquire into it.
However, the current situation on Volistad was highly unusual and not suited for attracting excessive attention. He couldn't go into detail regarding the inner workings with this Chapter Master, either.
Then the only way out—which was also the only response he received after reporting to his superiors—
Was to pretend nothing had ever happened.
"Then this matter concludes here. I thank the Revered Angels for your assistance in resolving the rebellion here. We and the Departmento Justitiae will further handle what remains. Do you Lords have any important matters here? If you require assistance, I can—"
"There is no need. This is our Chapter's own mission."
The implications behind the other's words were obvious enough. Soshyan nodded and turned away, having no desire to linger here any longer either.
As he led the warriors toward the gates, he saw that the people in the hanging cages had already been let down. They had all been tortured inhumanly. Leaning against the base of the city wall, they looked like a row of corpses.
Soshyan saw the Lieutenant. One of his eyes had been gouged out, leaving a terrifying, bloody hollow in his face. His head lolled lifelessly to the side as he slumped against the wall, congealed blood visible within his slightly open mouth.
His tongue had also been cut out.
Soshyan paused for a moment and was about to step forward, but the other noticed him, and his lips twitched.
From the shape of the man's lips, he read one word—
Liar.
Ultimately, Soshyan lowered his head and walked past him with heavy steps, marching straight on toward the wilderness outside the city.
(End of Chapter)