Chapter 211: The Winged Figure: I Did It

The bodies of the Norn Envoys and Norn Acolytes dissolved into afterimages, streaking across the desert before Angel's Keep.

The defensive lasers behind the Void Shield converged into a beam, firing a brilliant blue blade toward the three-headed beast.

Yet the Norn Envoys and Norn Acolytes moved with speeds utterly inconsistent with their bulk, flickering effortlessly between the laser beams.

Though the garrison's artillery and heavy explosive rounds from within Angel's Keep occasionally struck the three-headed beast, they meant nothing against the psychic shields raised by the Norn Envoys.

A burst of psychic sparks erupted from the massive brain tissue beneath the chitinous crown of a Norn Envoy; two searing psychic lances tore through the battlefield's smoke, stabbing directly into the Void Shield.

Instantly, ripples surged across the Void Shield, as torrents of heat from the Highest Heaven exploded against its violet surface.

On the ramparts, the humans behind the Void Shield screamed in terror; the shield trembled violently, like a bubble on the verge of bursting.

"Don't panic! This is energy dissipation! The Void Shield won't collapse!!" Lag shouted, his voice raw with urgency as he sensed morale crumbling.

As a gang thug who had survived the Underhive, Lag understood better than anyone what people feared.

BOOM!!!!

The ground shuddered suddenly; a colossal, serpentine head reared up outside the Void Shield, its tongue hissing with a sharp, sizzling sound.

Taking advantage of the ripples stirred by the psychic lances, which obscured the defenders' vision, two Norn Envoys forcibly teleported the massive Norn Acolyte directly before the Void Shield using raw psychic power.

"Concentrate fire!!!" Dante roared, and instantly, the entire firepower of Angel's Keep turned upon the Norn Acolyte.

But the beast paid no heed, enduring the relentless barrage with its sheer bulk and thick carapace.

The sharp spines on the Norn Acolyte's chest sprouted like tentacles, piercing the Void Shield with ease; these barbed tentacles erupted streams of inky green pus.

This toxin, meticulously engineered by the Tyranid swarm, splashed across the ramparts; even Astartes power armor dissolved, the children of Saint Guilliman screamed as flesh rotted and liquefied, bones turning to sludge.

The entire rampart of Angel's Keep began to crumble as the Norn Acolyte drove its claws into the Void Shield, slowly burrowing inward.

The Void Shield was fundamentally a warp field, not a physical barrier—it could absorb thermal energy, redirect kinetic force, and annihilate projectiles.

Any living being could pass through the Void Shield, though most of their kinetic energy would be consumed in the process.

But this attack by the Norn Acolyte was precisely the kind the Void Shield could not defend against.

Instantly, the line began to collapse, and the two Norn Envoys surged forward to the front.

Dante let out a mournful sigh; no wonder, in Zhou Yun's account, the Norn Envoys and Norn Acolytes were the most terrifying units.

Just three of them had nearly shattered Angel's Keep's entire defense.

"Overload the Void Shield!" Dante gave the order without hesitation.

Streams of thermal light erupted from the Void Shield's energy core, flooding it with energy far beyond normal capacity.

Instantly, the entire Void Shield became a blinding orb of light, nearly opaque; the Norn Acolyte trapped within was nearly consumed by the radiance.

Crackling explosions rang out, as if reality itself was screaming.

Then the Void Shield shattered under the overload, exploding into a warp torrent; the shockwave whipped up a sandstorm around Angel's Keep.

The Norn Acolyte let out a mournful cry; the intense release of warp energy had nearly torn it apart. Its mangled body crashed onto the rampart, crushing a section of the wall, while toxic fluid continuously oozed from its wounds, forming a bubbling poison pit on the ground.

Many humans and Astartes were crushed beneath the Norn Acolyte or drenched in its venom.

But regardless, the beast had lost all combat capability—only the two remaining Norn Envoys would not be so easily dealt with.

The Norn Envoys shrieked, unleashing waves of psychic pulses that hammered against the broken ramparts; Angel's Keep trembled violently.

The swarm surged forward again, pouring through the breaches behind the Norn Envoys.

Dante sighed, igniting his power axe.

Such a beast would require at least a knightly house as Dante's reinforcement to oppose.

But now, Dante could rely on nothing but his power axe and the wrath of the Archangel.

In Dante's eyes, one of the Norn Envoys' silhouette gradually merged with Horus—

A silver sword slashed through the air; pure feathers drifted to the ground; white light shimmered like morning dawn.

For an instant, Dante thought Saint Guilliman stood beside him—but when he looked up, he saw a golden mask.

Saint Guillen descended above Angel's Keep.

"Finally here!!!" But before Dante could rejoice, the scene below surpassed his imagination.

He had witnessed Saint Guillen's descent many times before—but never anything like this.

People were dying; the swarm roared through the rampart's breaches into Angel's Keep, turning the entire perimeter into a killing zone.

Lag and the other Asfordians emptied their laser rifles—but once the Tyranids closed in, human trigger speed could not match their speed.

Lag watched Asfordians torn apart by the swarm, saw the Laxians' forces drowned beneath the tide.

Before being swallowed, the Laxian shepherd elders pulled the pin on their glory charges; the shepherds followed with suicidal charges.

Their sacrifice bought a brief window for other human units to retreat.

But it was nowhere near enough—the swarm closed in almost immediately.

Lag's squad and Old One-Eye's squad were scattered; Lag didn't even know if Old One-Eye was still alive.

A blade insect leapt up, effortlessly tearing apart an Asfordian near Lag.

That Asfordian had once been a worker from Fardia City—he'd punched Lag outside Old One-Eye's bar.

Lag gripped his laser rifle and fired at the blade insect—but the Tyranid moved too fast; before he could pull the trigger, it was already before him.

The biological blade swung down; Lag saw death closing in.

Finally—

A sound of steel slicing through air—a long, unfamiliar blade wreathed in flame flashed past, effortlessly severing the blade insect's limb and cleaving its body in two.

The sword rested before Lag, its blade curved with elegance, engraved with strange runes—beautiful and razor-sharp.

"This sword's name is Aoshun."

The sword's master seemed to speak—or perhaps said nothing at all—but Lag distinctly heard the voice:

"In a dead language, its meaning is Dragon Sword."

Lag held his breath, staring at the scene before him.

A skeletal figure clad in armor stood before him, holding back the swarm.

Around him, countless warrior-like figures materialized as if from the dead.

Dreadnoughts painted purple with double-headed eagles, Berserkers in crimson Terminator power armor, warriors in unadorned power armor wielding massive power swords, Shadows with crow-helmets and sniper rifles, Librarians wielding power axes and draped in scrolls.

All were wreathed in flame, burning upon the battlefield; black armor covered their pale bones, fire erupting from their corpses, swirling in rings above their pure skulls.

The monarch of humanity blew the war horn; the dead returned from the past to fight once more for humanity.

The Oathbound Legion descended upon the battlefield of Baal.

Anggras's bloodaxe cleaved through a Blood Knight's power armor; the corpses clad in silver-and-red armor piled into mountains of blood and flesh beneath his feet.

Only seven or eight warriors remained beside Yor, gasping as they faced Anggras's fury.

But Anggras sensed the Blood God's will—within the warp above Baal, ripples were rising.

A powerful warp entity was about to take physical form; Saint Guilliman would return in the process.

Just a little more. He must reach Baal Prime quickly—before the resurrection—to plant the Blood God's wrath.

No more time to waste on Baal Two.

Anggras violently flared his wings, nearly launching into the void.

"No!" Yor roared, his chainsword screaming as it swung toward Anggras. "Fight me, Anggras!!"

Anggras cast a mocking, disdainful glance at Yor—in the blink of an eye, his whip lashed across Yor's body, shattering his silver-and-red power armor.

"Look at the face beneath your helmet—you're no longer human. You were born to serve the Blood God."

Anggras let out a sharp, mocking laugh as his black, fleshy wings began to vibrate.

"You belong with us, Yor. Submit to me."

Yor lay on the ground, pain flooding his chest; Anggras's whip was so sharp that even an Astartes' superhuman body bled uncontrollably.

He remembered Zhou Yun's words on Baal Prime, when he handed Yor the relic at his waist.

"I'm going with Mephiston to deal with Kabanha. If we fail, Kabanha will be thrown into Baal One's orbit—you hold him off."

Yor's fingers gently touched the relic wrapped in cloth at his waist; it glowed faintly warm—this was what kept him from succumbing to Anggras's rage.

"Kabanha was supposed to come—why is it you, Anggras?" Yor cursed, struggling to his feet.

The cloth at his waist unraveled; in his grip, he clutched a dull, toy sword.

"Anggras." Yor lifted his head, locking eyes with Anggras: "By the name of rage. By the name of the rage Saint Guilliman gave me—you will not leave."

Yor raised the toy sword toward Anggras. It might be meaningless—but now, Yor could only hope this relic would grant him strength.

SSSHHH—

In the astonished gazes of Yor and Anggras, the toy sword flared with Saint Guilliman's power.

The short blade ignited, golden lightning bursting forth with thunderous force.

"Famous Blade: Denkōmaru Charging: 15%"

A strange notification flashed through Zhou Yun's fourth-dimensional pocket—he glanced at it, paused in brief surprise, then realized it referred to the famous blade Denkōmaru given to Yor.

"I did it." The winged figure in white light nodded slightly to Zhou Yun.

In Zhou Yun's vision, the figure grew steadily clearer—as if a mass of light was acquiring a physical body in the material universe.

But Zhou Yun paid it no further attention; before him stood a deadly opponent awaiting him.

The chainsword known as Bloodson roared, hurtling toward Zhou Yun with unstoppable force, like a predator's maw devouring the air.

This great axe had once been wielded by Angron, forged from electrum, edged with the lower jaw-teeth of a cloud-dragon, its gauntlet made from the skin of the weak slain by Kaen himself; it could effortlessly tear flesh without any power activation.

Though the weapon was oversized for Kaen's frame, he moved as if unaffected by its mass—faster than any mortal could comprehend.

He was the fastest Astartes Zhou Yun had ever seen—faster than Yor, faster than Dante, and far beyond any other Astartes.

He was the mortal Chosen of Khorne, blessed by the Blood God.

Iron chains coiled around Kaen's arms clinked and groaned—but to Kaen's surprise, Zhou Yun casually blocked his Bloodson with a toy sword.

Kain immediately launched his next attack, standing on one leg as he spun his body and slammed the back of his axe like a hammer against Zhou Yun's head.

Zhou Yun's famed blade, Denkōmaru, blocked Kain's strike with a sharp clang, but Kain quickly realized close combat was useless against Zhou Yun.

The plasma pistol aimed at Zhou Yun's head.

But Zhou Yun's figure flickered violently, vanishing from his spot in the blink of an eye.

Kain turned on instinct, squeezing the trigger of his plasma pistol.

Yet the plasma pistol, which had accompanied Kain for years, inexplicably jammed—he felt his weapon resisting him.

Before Kain could react, the psychic cap on Zhou Yun's head suddenly pointed at him.

A powerful telekinetic force slammed into Kain's chest, but Kain absorbed the blow with brute strength.

Then Kain crushed the machine-spirit within the plasma pistol with his own rage-fueled will, and searing plasma fire roared toward Zhou Yun.

BOOM!!! BOOM!!! BOOM!!!

Searing plasma light exploded across Zhou Yun's body; though its power was far weaker than normal, plasma flame's intensity meant one hit—

Zhou Yun's figure instantly appeared before Kain.

His skin and flesh had been blasted open by the plasma, yet no blood spilled—only clumps of charred clay flew everywhere.

Beneath the clay lay a layer of silver metal; the silver power armor bore blackened scorch marks from the plasma, but no true damage had been done.

"Aversion AI? Or something else?"

Kain growled, and his blood-axe arced through the air, slashing toward Zhou Yun's skull.

Zhou Yun swiftly tucked Denkōmaru into his fourth-dimensional pocket and drew his mechanized device instead.

Then he simply extended a finger toward Kain—

(End of Chapter)