Chapter 248: Is the Dreadnought Flying in the Sky??

Lynx? Primarch?

Leina's expression grew distinctly strange as she listened to Grayfax's words,

this familiar scent, this familiar style, this blasphemous act that should have been burned on a white phosphorus pyre from the Great Crusade era to the Fall of Cadia,

even with her not-so-smart brain, Leina knew this was definitely Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun! He is on this planet, and has been watching the Crusade force all along!

Since when? Since the Crusade force first set foot on this planet? Or even earlier?

How does he know the Crusade force's movements? Some strange artifact?

Does he know Belisarius Cawl's purpose?

Why does he only aid the Crusade force in secret? Is he planning to ambush Abaddon from the shadows?

A cascade of thoughts surged through Leina's mind, yet none of these questions found answers.

Not only Leina, but Belisarius Cawl beside her also seemed to have slipped into brief shock,

until Celestine spoke slowly: "The Omnissiah is helping us."

"Again, the Omnissiah?" Grayfax's voice grew slightly sharper: "Then why does he steal the appearance of Primarch Roboute Guilliman?"

"What connection does Roboute Guilliman have with us or the Omnissiah?"

"I think he's some blasphemous wizard cooperating with you—"

"No!"

Belisarius Cawl's voice cut in suddenly, cold and low,

yet everyone present heard the anger in it—directed at Grayfax,

as if her words had insulted the Omnissiah.

"Grand Sage—"

Before Grayfax could finish, Grand Sage Belisarius Cawl stepped forward, his massive frame nearly obscuring Grayfax,

and from his complex mechanical body extended a slender mechanical tendril, its tip a sharp needle,

"I will read your memories, and see for myself whether that is an abomination or the Omnissiah."

"." Grayfax lowered her head without hesitation, silently agreeing to Grand Sage Belisarius Cawl's demand.

The needle at the end of Belisarius Cawl's mechanical tendril pierced Grayfax's nape; Grayfax did not even grunt,

data points flickered continuously in the Grand Sage's mechanical eyes,

the expression on his single remaining half-face shifted constantly,

first doubt, then seriousness, then surprise, finally turning to reverence.

"There is no doubt—the Omnissiah's will is within."

Belisarius Cawl said solemnly:

"But with this memory alone, I cannot make a more specific judgment."

Grayfax clenched her teeth slightly,

"Grand Sage—"

"Inquisitor."

Grayfax was cut off again by Belisarius Cawl:

"Are you questioning my judgment?"

"Do you believe I—the Forge Lord's servant, the Omnissiah's servant—cannot discern the Omnissiah's radiance?"

"Inquisitor, long before the first Inquisitor was born, I served the Omnissiah as an acolyte."

"My soul once fused with Azarquiel Sandni, the designer of the Astartes' black carapace."

"I conversed within memory with the Omnisiah, whom you call the Emperor, and received the sacred task He bestowed."

"I have witnessed firsthand the forms of Primarchs Roboute Guilliman, Rogal Dorn, and Chogoris Khan, and forged weapons for them."

"And you—a mere Inquisitor whose body is controlled by alien nanomachines—dare question my judgment?"

Grayfax fell silent.

As an Inquisitor, her authority was theoretically limitless within the Empire,

but theory remained theory; there were still a few individuals whose power could not be crushed by an Inquisitor's authority,

and Belisarius Cawl happened to be one of them,

as he himself said, even before the first Inquisitor was born, he had served the Omnissiah, served the Emperor,

even Grayfax could not override him with Inquisitorial power,

and if she did, the Crusade force would undoubtedly fracture.

"Have you not seen?"

Belisarius Cawl's tone softened slightly, as if instructing a foolish child:

"Would a normal Dreadnought move with such speed? That is unquestionably the power of the Primordial Drive—he granted those twenty-two warriors' power armor and weapons immense propulsion!"

"There is no warp presence within it—only pure, material, real-universe propulsion."

Grayfax fell silent.

She knew Belisarius Cawl was right; she had detected no warp energy in those memories,

but some corruption hides deep, and this memory might have been altered.

Yet Grayfax understood she could only temporarily submit to Grand Sage Belisarius Cawl's judgment.

"So, what do we do next—"

"Advance. Of course we continue advancing."

For the third time, Belisarius Cawl interrupted Grayfax before she finished speaking:

"The Omnissiah's will has removed an obstacle for us—how can we halt now?"

Belisarius Cawl's mechanical eyes glimmered faintly,

his tone brimmed with the longing of a pilgrim.

Grayfax's face twisted slightly, yet she forced herself to speak calmly: "We cannot advance recklessly any further."

"The Black Legion knows our position. Charging ahead blindly will only lead us into an ambush, surrounded on all sides."

"This fortress is good. Though alien, it is sturdy enough to hold back the pursuers behind us."

"She is right," Celestine spoke softly in agreement with Grayfax's suggestion.

Grayfax was surprised Celestine would support her.

"We need someone to hold this position," Celestine continued.

Grayfax nodded in agreement.

". I will." Kalen, the Captain who had remained silent, spoke up,

gripping the Blood Angels' holy relic, the Hammer of Baal, flanked by over forty Blood Angels Terminator warriors,

all knew staying here meant no hope,

under the Black Legion's overwhelming numerical superiority, forty Blood Angels could not hold indefinitely,

yet no one objected, for all in the Crusade force knew they must have someone guard this fortress,

or else the pursuing forces, combined with the newly landed Black Legion ahead, would crush them from both sides.

The Crusade force warriors, excluding Captain Kalen of the Blood Angels, rested briefly, then marched into the endless snow sea, following Celestine.

Kalen watched their retreating figures vanish into the blizzard,

his grip tightened on the Hammer of Baal; a single snowflake drifted gently onto his face, then melted in the heat rising from his Terminator power armor,

snow.

Kalen looked up at the sky,

when he was a boy, snow was merely a legend,

on Baal's sky, even clouds were rare, let alone snow,

he remembered the excitement of his first time seeing snow as a recruit, on another planet,

boundless, world-covering white, stretching to the edge of the universe, making one forget they were within a cosmos,

but after two centuries of service, Kalen grew weary of such beauty, and began to miss Baal's sky,

that faintly orange-yellow dome, Baal Two and Baal One's twin satellites faintly visible, and when night fell, stars glittered beside them.

Kalen even recalled one night when Chapter Master Dante stared at the stars, then pointed at them with his hand, naming each star like an elder of Baal's tribes who had seen much,

how was Baal's sky now? Covered by swarms, or unchanged?

Was the Chapter Master still enduring his thousand-year battle?

Had Korbros found a cure for Bloodlust and Black Rage?

Was Lord Mephiston still as grim as death?

Had it not been for his duty, Kalen would have preferred to die in Baal's sands, his remains buried in scorching gravel.

Kalen's thoughts were chaotic, yet just then, black dots appeared in the sky, dense as flies.

Chaos Raptors!

Black Legion units equipped with jump packs,

Kalen's bionic right eye swiftly identified the enemies descending from above—the Black Legion, facing a fortress hard to assault from the ground, had chosen an aerial assault,

for the fortress's anti-air defenses had long since been disabled by millennia of decay and the shock of the Dark Prince's birth.

"Blood Angels, prepare yourselves."

Captain Kalen gripped his Storm Bolter and spoke to the forty-plus Terminator warriors of the Blood Angels' First Company.

"Good." A clear voice, like the morning light of Baer, sounded behind Kaelen, and his soul trembled inexplicably.

That voice was not one of the forty-odd Terminators who accompanied him.

Kaelen had just begun to turn his head when, suddenly, blood-red figures emerged from the snow sea.

These figures bore strange small propellers and flew straight into the sky, ignoring the blizzard, their initial speed faster than jump packs.

What stunned Kaelen most was,

he saw a black-painted Dreadnought, its coffin lid topped with a pale yellow propeller, soaring into the sky in defiance of physics, engaging in battle with the airborne Chaos Raptors.

"Bat-brats! Watch Casso! And get the hell out of the sky!"

"Remember whose Primarch has wings! The sky belongs to Sanguinius!"

Kaelen stared, frozen, as the Death Company Dreadnought swiftly slaughtered the Chaos Raptors overhead.

It was the Death Company Dreadnought "Cursed Casso."

Am I in Black Rage?! Sanguinius above! Bloody Dreadnoughts are flying in the sky!

Kaelen turned his head, dazed, toward the source of the voice.

He saw a man wearing a baseball cap, with a white pocket on his belly.

Kaelen quickly realized: this was the man he had met in Asford—Laine Rus, or rather, Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun smiled slightly, gesturing for Kaelen to look beside him.

Beside Zhou Yun stood a tall figure draped in a linen robe, hood drawn over his face.

The figure lifted his head slightly, his face partially revealed in the snow and wind.

Kaelen's soul was struck; a profound emotion and power surged from his Sanguinius blood.

(End of Chapter)