Chapter 158: If You Have Nothing to Do, Go Get Two Butchers

Two hazy, indistinct figures emerged from the blood-red mist,

tall and muscular, stepping forward one by one under the glow of crimson scars toward Zhou Yun and the others,

resembling nothing less than the colossal ogres of Terra's ancient legends.

Zhou Yun sprang to his feet, frowning as the figures drew nearer through the blood mist,

his nose catching the acrid stench of thirst and blood, his ears catching the mournful sighs of the winged figure within Bai Guang.

"What's going on?" Danton startled at Zhou Yun's sudden rise,

turning his head to follow Zhou Yun's gaze into the blood mist.

Danton's vision paled beside Zhou Yun's—he could barely make out faint dark shapes within the mist.

Had Zhou Yun not pointed them out, he might never have noticed.

"Grab your weapons!" Danton barked,

immediately yanking open his tunic to reveal a laser rifle bound tightly with cloth strips beneath his coarse linen shirt,

clearly brought back from the Asford battlefield.

Danton raised the laser rifle, aiming it at the two dark shapes in the mist,

and the other Asfordians reacted swiftly,

all survivors of the swarm invasion, every nerve taut with survival.

The driver, responsible for the vehicle, yanked an automatic infantry rifle from the cab and hurled it to Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun caught it but merely slung it across his waist, not raising it to his shoulder.

"What is it? Can you see clearly?" Danton lowered his voice. "Some kind of beast?"

Zhou Yun shook his head slightly, stepping forward to face the two towering figures in the mist:

"Leave this place. Nothing here belongs to you."

Zhou Yun's voice deepened:

"For the sake of Saint Guilliman's blood, Ba'al needs every soul's strength—don't let humanity waste its own."

The two towering figures in the mist halted, seemingly startled that mere mortals had detected them.

Yet a voice thick with thirst and fury still echoed from the mist's depths: "How dare mortals invoke Saint Guilliman's blood?"

They assumed Zhou Yun was begging for mercy, pleading they spare these mortals.

But Zhou Yun meant no such thing.

"I mean," Zhou Yun sighed, "for Saint Guilliman's sake, I hope your deaths come on the battlefield."

"To die here is dishonorable—and it makes the Archangels weep."

"Go. For his sake, I spare your lives."

Zhou Yun spoke truthfully,

knowing the two figures in the mist, though enslaved by the Blood Thirst curse, still carried loyalty in their bones,

they must be destroyed, must embrace death—but for the sake of the winged figure in Bai Guang, for Ba'al's need of every last strength, Zhou Yun wished them to fall on the battlefield.

"ROAR!!!" A bestial roar erupted from the mist,

and the two figures stepped fully out, their forms exposed to mortal eyes.

They were giants clad in red-and-silver power armor, Death Angels of the Emperor, sons of Saint Guilliman, fallen to the Blood Thirst, branded Traitor Blood Knights.

"Angels?!" one Asfordian gasped, lowering his rifle, nearly falling to his knees.

"Raise your weapons!!" Danton, drenched in sweat, trembled as he stared at the two Astartes,

sensing the thirst radiating from them, sensing the gaze beneath their armored helmets—the gaze of prey.

Danton's throat dried, his head spun—he couldn't fathom why Astartes would look at mortals like this.

"My lord!" Danton shouted, "We are Asfordians! We fought in the Underworld—with General Drostron, with Lord Dante!"

But the two Blood Knights showed no intention of speaking to mortals.

This is serious, Zhou Yun thought, watching the two Astartes,

he could sense they were nearly wholly consumed by the Blood Thirst,

had it not been for a sliver of lingering loyalty, they would have become full monsters long ago.

That sliver of loyalty was why they hadn't feasted in the Angel's Landing town—but chose to hunt in the desert.

Yet that sliver could not resist the Blood Thirst's hunger—for blood,

they could barely suppress the urge to devour flesh, so much so they ignored that these mortals had once fought for the Imperium,

even ignored Zhou Yun's warnings, mistaking them for mockery—if a rational Astartes, he would have been cautious.

Zhou Yun understood: neither the Emperor's name nor the Angel's name could dissuade these two Astartes from feeding,

their minds had twisted,

to them, mortals were cattle, the Emperor the shepherd, and they the shepherd's hounds,

as hounds, they had the right to consume some of the cattle.

But the Emperor never wished to be humanity's master, mortals were never his cattle, and the Angels never desired their sons to be shepherd's hounds.

"."

The winged figure in Bai Guang let out a heavy sigh, as if pleading with Zhou Yun.

"Please..." Zhou Yun faintly heard his voice.

It was not a plea to spare their lives, but a plea to stop them from committing this sin.

One Blood Knight moved—faster than mortals could perceive—reaching for Danton's head.

Danton didn't hesitate; though he couldn't see the Blood Knight's form, he fired without delay,

but it was useless—before he could squeeze the trigger, the armored hand of the Blood Knight, sheathed in ceramite, was already before his skull. Yet a mortal hand suddenly shot out, gripping the Blood Knight's massive, ceramite-clad fist with iron force.

"Huh?!" The Blood Knight stared in shock at the short-haired mortal with wide eyes.

"I was going to say you're the spiritual successors to ghouls in the 40th millennium."

Zhou Yun said, amid the stunned gazes of mortals and Astartes:

"But I reconsidered—that's an insult to ghouls. The Ninth Legion before Saint Guilliman's return was far stronger than you."

"You mock the Crimson Blade and misunderstand your Father—believe me, Guilliman is at least not the worst Primarch. You two..."

"You two have also misunderstood your Father. Sons of Saint Guilliman—you may be the product of Angron's robust gene-seed."

"If you've got nothing to do, go get yourselves two butchers' nails."

The two Blood Knights roared in near-furious rage, drawing their chain swords and charging Zhou Yun.

Then, before Danton's stunned eyes, Zhou Yun moved faster than the Astartes,

his form nearly vanishing from mortal sight—only the two Astartes could track him,

the one closest swung his chain sword at Zhou Yun,

sparks flew from the blade, its machine-soul seeming to sense fury.

But not the Blood Knight's fury—Zhou Yun's.

The chain sword suddenly jammed, frozen mid-swing.

The Blood Knight froze in confusion, and Zhou Yun seized the moment, grabbing the chain sword,

!. ead

his strength surpassed even that of an Astartes—he wrenched the weapon from the Blood Knight's grip in an instant,

ZZZZZZ!!!

The chain sword screamed, nearly roaring.

The moment Zhou Yun gripped it, he felt its blade thrumming with resentment, fury, and pain—

it had served many warriors, each roar meant to cleave humanity's enemies, but as the Blood Knights fell, those it slew became humanity itself—its soul rebelled, seethed, suffered... and mourned.

Like a wronged child, it whispered to Zhou Yun,

begging him to free its wielder from this shameful existence.

"... lright." Zhou Yun agreed—and the roaring chain sword plunged straight into the Blood Knight's chest,

the blades tore through flesh like butter, as if the power armor itself aided the blade's entry,

Zhou Yun yanked the chain sword free, blood gushing—the Blood Knight let out a dying cry and collapsed heavily onto the sand.

The other Blood Knight roared, raising his bolter and aiming it at Zhou Yun,

then—

BOOM!!!

The bolter exploded in midair, sparks spraying across the Blood Knight's face.

In the next blink, Zhou Yun stood before the Blood Knight, his chain sword slicing through the power armor, cleaving the body in two.

The Blood Knight split in half, falling onto the sand. The Asfordians stared at the two angelic corpses, faces pale,

their gazes toward Zhou Yun now filled with disbelief—

a mortal had slain two angels, and almost in the space of a breath.

"Brother Huang Daxiong," Danton drew a deep breath, touching his scarred cheek. "Thank you."

He hesitated, then asked: "But what exactly—"

"... s this? These aren't Blood Angels. They're a kind of beast on Ba'al."

Zhou Yun turned seriously to Danton and the other Asfordians:

"They grow taller and larger when they encounter people, manifest fake power armor and chain swords, and have a strong blood-drinking habit..."

Danton and the other Asfordians stared blankly, as if unable to comprehend what Zhou Yun had just said.

Danton fell silent for a moment, then looked at the Asford people behind him: "Yes, Brother Huang Daxiong is right—I've heard of it too. It's a shapeshifting beast from Baer."

"Remember this: we were attacked by beasts. And for everyone's sake, don't speak of today's events."

Zhou Yun nodded in approval, and the other Asford people quickly agreed.

Zhou Yun glanced at the two blood knight corpses on the ground, rubbed his brow slightly, then turned to Danton and said:

"Go on ahead. I'll catch up later."

"Huh?" Danton blinked. "What are you going to do? We can clean up the traces together."

No, you can't. If you saw the faces of the blood knights beneath their power armor helmets, you might cause all sorts of trouble.

"I'm hungry. I'm going to eat these two beasts," Zhou Yun said seriously. "I don't like being watched while I eat."

"Huh???" Danton stared, utterly baffled.

Dammit, if you got lucky, message me in the group! Even if I had a portal door, I still need your address!

(End of Chapter)