Chapter 249: Abaddon: Is Saint Guilliman Still Waiting for Me on the Ground?

On the throne of the Revenant Soul,

Abaddon felt rage, a deep wound visible to the bone across his face,

left by the Black Sword, a scar bestowed upon Abaddon by the life of Amarlich, Marshal of the Black Templars,

that descendant of Sigismund chose to await Abaddon aboard the Mechanicum's Arkship Iron Phantasm,

challenging Abaddon in the name of the Black Templars, in the name of the former Imperial Crusader Sigismund and the Black Sword he wielded,

the entire Black Legion heard Amarlich's challenge to Abaddon,

though fanatical, that Black Templar Marshal was no fool,

Abaddon accepted the challenge,

ten thousand years ago, after the Great Crusade ended, it was Sigismund who relentlessly hunted Abaddon and the other Traitors,

ten thousand years ago, when he became the Chaos Warlord and launched the First Black Crusade, it was Sigismund who stood before Abaddon,

for a thousand years, Sigismund persisted to kill Abaddon,

and the Black Templars he once led endured for ten thousand years,

even after ten thousand years, Abaddon still offered this old foe a measure of respect,

so Abaddon faced Marshal Amarlich, wielding the Black Sword, in single combat,

the boy's strength was far inferior, nowhere near that of their original Grand Marshal Sigismund,

yet at the final moment of battle, Amarlich abandoned all defense, attacking Abaddon with near-suicidal fury,

or rather, he charged straight into Abaddon's blade, Drakonion,

just as Sigismund had died in Abaddon's hands ten thousand years ago,

the blade of Drakonion, forged in the first murder of mankind, killed Amarlich in the blink of an eye,

yet his body, pierced through, still swung one final blow, carving a deep wound into Abaddon's face,

the wound was healing, yet Abaddon still felt the pain,

not from his face, but from his chest,

the wound left by Sigismund,

Sigismund had once pierced Abaddon's chest with a suicide strike,

though ancient and frail, he remained deadly,

Abaddon then tore Sigismund's body apart with the Hand of Horus, killing his old foe,

yet the wound Sigismund left on Abaddon was an eternal brand, remaining on his chest for ten thousand years,

part of the Black Sword that caused that wound now rested within the blade at Abaddon's knee,

Abaddon lowered his head, gazing at the black blade upon his leg—solemn, dark as night, inscribed with High Gothic script: "imperatorlux."

Sigismund's Black Sword was melted down into ten blades after his death; the one at Abaddon's knee was one of them,

he could almost sense Sigismund's soul within the blade—a dim, hollow, furious glow of light,

ten thousand years later, he was wounded again by it!

"Keep talking, Abaddon. Do you think I'm listening?"

"You'll die like your weak father—soul scattered, face twisted in shame, weeping with your head in your hands, sweating with humiliation."

Sigismund's old insults suddenly echoed in Abaddon's ears, as if the blade itself were speaking,

and at that moment, a searing defensive laser roared against the Revenant Soul, igniting sparks across its void shield,

seconds later, another defensive laser fired from the ice moon Krasus, detonating a nearby ship of the Revenant Soul,

"Damn it!!!"

Abaddon seized the black blade at his knee, ready to hurl it against the wall,

but suddenly a searing pain burned his hand—he screamed in agony,

he released the blade, staring at his palm,

no wound marred his skin, as if the pain had been an illusion,

then Abaddon seemed to hear the blade's machine-soul whispering a mocking laugh.

Abaddon erupted in uncontrollable fury,

damned by Erebus,

why is everything in the Cadia System so damned awful?

Cadia is destroyed, yet this ice moon Krasus still gives him trouble,

first, his initial Raven Squad,

lost contact for no reason,

then his Hellstriders,

shot down by strange defensive lasers,

then the Word Bearers' sorcerers,

their final transmissions screamed nonsense—"Why is the Warlord like this? Guilliman? Perfect City?"—

finally, the Ravens sent to investigate the sorcerers' occupation of the fortress,

their last words: "A Space Marine Dreadnought of the Blood Angels is flying in the sky??"

Why not say Saint Guilliman has returned and is waiting for Abaddon on this ice moon??

What tormented Abaddon most was the sudden, devastating defensive lasers erupting from the ground,

not only did the lasers strike, but many machine-souls of the Black Legion's ships began autonomously shutting down their void shields,

Abaddon could even faintly sense the Revenant Soul itself yearning to do the same!!

Had the Grand Archmagos Belisarius Cawl discovered some STC capable of controlling machine-souls?

Could the Omnissiah truly be manifesting, commanding the Black Legion's ships to commit suicide?

Abaddon could no longer endure these horrors,

neither could his subordinates—only worthless babble and lies returned to him,

he must go to the ice moon Krasus himself,

it might be risky,

but Abaddon feared nothing!

In this galaxy, beyond the gods and the dead Primarchs turned to dust, nothing remained to threaten Abaddon.

"What did you see?" Gravex sneered, using his psychic power to shred the brains of surrounding Black Legion troops, as he questioned the False Saint. Black Legion tanks and Astartes dotted the snowfields like stains, roaring, howling, moaning, cackling, coughing as they charged the Expeditionary Force,

Hellstriders screamed in the sky, locked in combat with loyalist knights of House Tarannus; the 184th Cadia Regiment held their line, barely resisting enemies a hundred times stronger with armored support,

Grand Archmagos Cawl moved like an avatar of the Machine God, sprinting across the battlefield on his multi-legged mechanical limbs, his Axe of Omnissiah smashing the skulls of Traitors,

Leina floated midair, the primordial power of the Empyrean raging around her like a storm—each gesture shattered a Black Legion Astartes, each cry summoned thunderous warp lightning.

"Hope," Celestine flew through the air, her silver longsword blazing with fire, drenching the snowfield below in flame.

"I see only death!" Gravex replied with cruel sarcasm: "Our death!"

"Perhaps even yours, lying False Saint!"

As he spat these words, Gravex paralyzed a Black Legion tank with his psychic power.

Celestine merely shook her head dismissively, descending from the sky to lead her Sisters of Battle's Seraphim squad in a charge, briefly tearing open a gap,

Gravex swiftly followed, expanding the breach with her psychic might.

"You serve the Emperor, you trust the Emperor—why not believe his hand guides me?" Celestine said sincerely to Gravex as they fought side by side.

"I don't trust you—you're a heretic, you've made us all more ignorant and superstitious!"

Gravex spat:

"You manipulate the gullible to achieve your secret ends—I should've let Abaddon kill you!"

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"If not for your followers, I'd kill you right now!"

Nearby Sisters of Battle clearly heard this, glaring at Gravex with fury,

Celestine swiftly silenced them with a glance, then smiled: "Should I take this chance to kill you, then?"

Gravex had followed the Sisters too deep into enemy lines, far from Leina and the 184th Cadia Regiment she trusted.

Celestine could kill her before reinforcements arrived.

"Yes," Gravex replied without hesitation, locking eyes with Celestine,

if Celestine killed her, it would prove Gravex's suspicions, revealing her true nature to all.

Celestine's smile vanished: "I won't, Katharina. He has plans for you too."

"I see it. Whether you believe it or not."

With that, Celestine soared high again, drenching the Traitors in fire.

Gravex snorted, her mood still dark, yet deep in her soul, for reasons unknown, Celestine's words brought her a sliver of comfort.

Leina watched the argument end and exhaled in relief,

she had been watching them closely,

had Celestine lost patience with Gravex's suspicion, or had Gravex attacked Celestine out of doubt,

Leina could have intervened between them at once,

since leaving Asford, Leina felt more and more that the Empire's great figures were each more extreme, each more antagonistic than the last,

none of them understood compromise or self-regulation like ordinary people,

Leina shook her head, waving her hand to tear apart a Raven attempting to fly in and attack her from above.

May they resolve their differences and become true companions.

Leina's eyes snapped wide open, a grim premonition echoing through her soul.

In the warp, she sensed an entity of extreme darkness, coldness, madness, and corruption drawing near.

Its twisted power reverberated horrifyingly through the warp; the blade in its hand seemed to carry the death of human fate.

A series of omens and visions flashed before Leina's eyes.

She saw an eagle, a hound, a serpent, and a fly.

Beneath them stretched twisted threads, manipulating a puppet.

The puppet held the stone tool used in humanity's first murder, its arms bound with its father's claws, striding toward Leina and the others with head held high.

Its face wore an expression of confidence and pride, as if saying: "Look, I used those four beasts without being controlled by them!"

Then the eagle cackled, the hound shook its head in disdain, the serpent smiled with delight, and the fly chuckled with indulgence and resignation.

Yet all of them tugged their threads, continuing to manipulate the puppet.

"It's him!"

Leina screamed in terror:

"The puppet! No—the Great Devourer Abaddon has come!!"

(End of Chapter)