Chapter 193: Mortal Baer and the Swarm Tide

Dante's feeling was not good; he could feel the earth trembling, and his own soul trembling as well.

Bar's sun hung high above the desert, its crimson rays trailing from the horizon, sweeping across three wailing moons.

Dante summoned all inhabitants of these three planets; every civilian must take up arms, become his warrior, become a line of defense for Angel's Keep.

This was, of course, brutally cruel—it stirred immense fear among the people—but with the cooperation of blood slaves and priests, Dante successfully gathered Bar's locals into Angel's Keep amid their wailing.

Yet on Bar's three planets today, besides the native Barrians, there was another force.

Survivors from the Underworld system.

Among them were shepherds from Laxio, gang thugs from Asford, workers and Death-Worshippers from the Undercity.

They had once stood firm alongside the Cadia Shock Troops, holding the Underworld for days; those who survived were equally hardened.

But before Dante issued his summons, these refugees had already begun migrating on their own, gathering almost entirely in this town and nearby settlements.

This town was called Magda Town, named after the great nun who once held Laxio, primarily built by Laxio refugees.

That great nun had gained something strange in the Underworld; she seemed to have been forced to rush to Terra.

If that great nun were here, her prestige would have easily mobilized the refugees.

Of course, the revered Saint Doraemon could have done so too.

But lately, that Saint Doraemon had been preparing with Mephiston to deal with Kabanha's problem; Dante rarely saw him, let alone asked him to command the refugees.

Dante sighed softly, noticing that all these refugees were already armed.

He hoped no conflict or tragedy would erupt—he did not wish to have to raise his blade against mortals.

Protected by the Holy Blood Guard, Dante entered the square, where a statue of Saint Doraemon stood.

The statue still bore its round, raccoon-like form, but around it were adorned skulls symbolizing death, cogs symbolizing machinery, and a black, gaping maw symbolizing the Eternal Dragon.

Dante stood before the statue, gazing at the crowd packed before him—thousands of Underworld refugees gathered here.

And in this town, and in surrounding areas, even more Underworld refugees waited.

Representing them were four figures standing at the front of the crowd.

A one-eyed old PDF, a female Death-Worshipper assassin, a grotesque old man, and the shepherd elder of Laxio.

They were mere mortals, yet equally indispensable.

The Emperor made us to protect mortals—yet now we must make mortals protect themselves.

"People of the Underworld!"

Dante took a deep breath, letting his voice carry weight:

"Warriors of Asford and Laxio, you have fought through swarms of insects, standing with the Cadia Shock Troops, the Battle Sisters, and with us—you have made sacrifices far beyond what mortals should bear for the Empire, for the survival of our species."

"But now the swarms still advance toward us—Bar, the ancestral home of angels, will soon be drowned by them. I must ask even more of you."

"All among you capable of wielding weapons must act under the angels' command to aid in defending Bar."

"We will provide you with arms—you must fight, or all of us will perish."

Dante's words did not produce the effect he had expected.

The mortal survivors from the Underworld stared at him with stubborn eyes, silent and unmoving.

"Death—we will bring death to the swarms," said the Death-Worshipper assassin, Dishi, slowly. "In the name of the Emperor and Saint Doraemon, we will not refuse any chance to bring death."

She bowed her head slightly, clearly accepting Dante's authority.

"They took our salt, our sea, our moons, our people," rasped the Laxio shepherd elder. "But they could not take our blood. Blood for blood—only vengeance!"

A roar erupted among the Laxio shepherds—they bellowed for vengeance, demanding the swarms pay with more blood for devouring Laxio.

The one-eyed old man exchanged a glance with the one named Ragg.

Ragg hesitated, then took one step forward, bowing respectfully to Dante.

"My lord, for most of my life I was a hive gang thug, and I understand little."

"But I had a good friend—he knew much. When we were still drinking in the bars of Asford, he told us a story."

"He said it was an ancient war: Khan Chagatai asked the Archangel, 'In your vision, if I leave the city, how many will I save?'"

"The Archangel answered, 'Countless.'"

"Then Khan Chagatai said, 'Then I shall go forth.'"

Ragg lifted his wrinkled face, gazing at Dante, who wore the Golden Mask of Saint Guilliman's Fury.

That face seemed to see through all Ragg's fear, hesitation, cowardice, and baseness—yet Ragg gathered a sliver of courage and asked:

"My lord… if we die for this, will the Emperor and Saint Doraemon be pleased? Will our deaths have meaning? Will our souls return to the Golden Throne?"

Dante remained silent for a long moment, then gave Ragg a slight nod.

"Then, my lord, we will fight," Ragg bowed his head humbly.

Chapter Masters and representatives of each chapter stood in the Crimson Grand Hall; those stationed on Bar's two moons and fleet appeared via projection.

The hall now held no noise or pomp—only the star map suspended in the sky, still blazing brightly.

They followed Dante without deceit, political maneuvering, or power struggles.

They were all warriors—Dante's blood brothers, sharp weapons.

Now they offered only loyalty—to the Empire, to Saint Guilliman, to Dante.

Dante gently touched the Golden Mask of Saint Guilliman on his face, silently praying.

They now lived in an era paler, more ignorant, and darker than ten thousand years ago; Dante was but a shadow of Saint Guilliman, and the warriors gathered on Bar were but shadows of the old Ninth Legion.

Yet even shadows still carried Saint Guilliman's blood—may that blood grant them strength.

Suddenly, a crackling static burst through the comms—a star-seer transmission from another galaxy, relayed through Bar Two's star-seer station to the Crimson Grand Hall.

". ay fate listen… Calyptos reporting, this is Deno Five. Commander, they are here—their numbers are too vast to count."

The recording grew noisier, countless insectoid screeches rising, sharp and piercing:

"Cannot retreat—repeat, we are surrounded—for the blood of Saint Guilliman."

The recording cut off, followed by a roar and explosions.

"It has begun," Dante whispered. A nearby star on the map—Deno Five—went dark, replaced by a crimson line marking the swarm's advance.

More star-seer transmissions followed.

". etreating—retreating. Arnold system—the swarms are advancing."

". eviathan has come—this is Maria system."

"Numbers are immense—they may have millions of bio-ships!!!"

"Horus!!!!!!"

One star after another went dark; the swarms came from all directions, forming crimson spears stabbing toward Bar.

All seven star systems near Bar—once inhabited, now destroyed by Dante's extermination order—reported the swarms' appearance.

Yet clearly, the swarms did not linger in these systems, nor attempt to harvest biomass.

The swarms advanced without regard for losses, rushing full speed toward Bar.

Bar's tremors grew stronger; the entire system shook from the gravity waves of the swarms' FTL travel.

". e denied the swarms biomass replenishment in the systems—the swarms, in turn, are rushing forward at full speed. We have weakened them as much as possible, yet their fleet remains vast."

"Meanwhile, shadows are falling—the entire system will be plunged into darkness in the Warp. We will receive no more reinforcements—we must rely on ourselves."

Dante gazed at the star map and spoke softly.

All Chapter Masters and representatives remained silent—until—

"They're here," growled Skabban, Chief Librarian of the Flesh Tearers, who commanded the Flesh Tearers on Bar One via projection, replacing Seth.

He was also a powerful psyker, second only to Mephiston among the living on Bar.

Then the projection of the Loyal Angels Chapter began to flicker; the projections of other Chapter Masters stationed on starships also shook.

On the star map, a red dot ignited on Bar's system, then hundreds, then a long, winding ribbon of red dots—like a coiled serpent—wrapping around Bar's outer rim.

Then Angel's Keep trembled violently; groans of stone rose from earth and walls; the star Balor dimmed.

"This is the edge of the Bar system—Glory's Wing, Elwin, Loyal Angels!"

"They're here!!!"

The star map flashed, revealing empty space filled with the green glow of bio-plasma thrusters—dense with bio-ships, armored in chitinous shells, bristling with tentacles and spines, swarming the stars like a torrential rain of blood and flesh.

The psykers of the chapters let out a piercing cry—they saw the Warp being swallowed by profound shadow.

"Come then, brothers," Dante whispered. "The war has begun."

(End of Chapter)