Chapter 1352: The Anomaly of Kalini Star in the Rear

Canaan Star Alliance Capital Star, Supreme Council Chamber.

Speaker Viridius sat before the conference table, the battle report of Chengjia Star before him.

His eyes were fixed on the golden figure on the holographic screen; Nuochaqigan stood amidst the swarm, his Spear piercing the skull of a Tyranid Warrior.

Morax stood by his side.

"Speaker, the combat effectiveness of the Xiuluo Saint is far beyond expectations. Their Krieg soldiers have suffered over forty percent casualties on the first line of defense, yet they have not retreated.

Their Adeptus Custodes, Nuochaqigan, guards the front of the line alone and has already killed at least a hundred Zerg elites. Their Primarch, Mortarion, has killed six Hive Tyrants."

Speaker Viridius did not speak.

Tailesi spoke up.

"Speaker, our fifty thousand reinforcements... in front of the Xiuluo Saint, they aren't even fit to be reserves; they do not need us."

Speaker Viridius finally spoke.

"Even if they don't need us, we must go. Not to help them, but to show our stance. The Xiuluo Saint is helping us fight the Zerg; our people must be present."

Morax nodded.

"General Bulake has been contacted; his troops are responsible for logistics and supplies behind Chengjia Star."

Speaker Viridius stood up and walked to the window.

"If Chengjia Star falls, the next target for the Zerg will be the Octavia Sector. Our fleet has lost seventy percent, and our ground forces are in total disarray. If not for the Xiuluo Saint, we might already be discussing how to evacuate the Capital Star."

Tailesi said.

"Speaker, the Dark Angels fleet is on its way, the Lion's legion."

Speaker Viridius spoke.

"The Lion, it is said he is colder than Mortarion, more like a monster than any Human."

Morax said.

"But he is helping us fight the Zerg."

Speaker Viridius turned around, looking at the red Zerg light points on the holographic screen.

"Have the engineering troops speed up their progress. As long as Chengjia Star can hold, we must keep repairing our defensive lines. The Xiuluo Saint has not retreated, and we cannot retreat either."

Kalini Star, outer perimeter of the Third District infirmary, late at night.

Kus felt no sleepiness.

His right leg was injured in the final battle of the Aelius Sector.

Lying on the cot, Kus stared at the tent ceiling.

Most of the surrounding soldiers were already asleep; some were snoring, some were talking in their sleep, and some were twitching occasionally.

He had retreated from the Aelius Sector, having seen too much death, having seen comrades dragged away by the tentacles of Zerg bio-ships, having seen transport ships have their hulls pierced, and having seen people around him suffocate in the vacuum of space.

Now he was alive, lying on the soil of Kalini Star, but he could not sleep.

Slight footsteps came from outside the tent.

These footsteps were very light, very cautious.

The footsteps stopped not far away. A rustling sound, as if something was being opened.

Then people spoke in low voices, the content unclear, but one of the voices was very familiar; it was his tent-mate, Dura.

Dura had come from the same barracks as him and had fought alongside him in the Aelius Sector for forty days.

Dura's bunk was on the west side of the tent, less than five meters from Kus.

"Dura?"

Another voice asked in a low tone.

Kus sat up slowly, and by the faint light filtering through a gap in the tent, he saw two figures crouching in the shadows outside.

One figure had his back to him, tall in stature; it was not Dura.

Dura was kneeling on the ground, his head lowered, as if being held down.

That posture did not look like an embrace, but more like... gnawing.

Blood rushed to Kus's head.

"Dura."

He called out.

The voice was not loud, but enough for both of them to hear.

Dura did not respond.

The tall figure slowly turned his head.

Kus saw his face, with something wriggling at the mouth.

It was not a tongue, but thinner, denser tentacles extending from deep within the throat, like the mouthparts of an insect.

Kus wanted to scream loudly.

His mouth opened, but a hand had already covered it.

His head was twisted to one side, his neck exposed.

He felt something warm and slimy pierce into his neck.

Something was wriggling, expanding, and spreading in his blood vessels, like a stream of warm liquid flowing from his neck to his brain, flowing through every nerve.

His consciousness began to blur, making his limbs go limp, making his brain give up resistance.

"Shh."

The tall figure said in his ear.

"Quiet, don't make a sound."

Kus wanted to struggle, but his body no longer obeyed his commands.

His consciousness remained; he could hear the sounds around him and see blurred light and shadows; he lay back on the cot, eyes open, staring at the tent ceiling.

Outside the tent, footsteps faded away.

Inside the tent, the other soldiers were still fast asleep.

No one knew what had happened here.

The next morning, when Kus woke up, there was a metallic, sweet taste in his mouth.

He touched his neck; there were no wounds, nothing at all.

He turned his head to look at Dura's bunk; Dura was sitting on the edge of the bed, putting on shoes, his movements no different from usual.

"Dura."

He called out.

Dura turned his head, looked at him, and smiled; that smile was the same as always.

"What's wrong?"

Dura asked.

"Nothing."

Kus said.

He did not know why he had not spoken up, nor why he felt there was no need to speak up.

It was as if what happened last night was no longer important.

It was as if it had only been a dream.

He stood up and went to collect breakfast.

The cafeteria in the wounded soldiers' camp was packed with people.

Soldiers carried their trays, lined up for food, and found seats to sit down.

Kus carried his tray to a table in the corner; Dura was already there.

Dura was eating meat; today's breakfast was synthetic protein and canned vegetables.

Dura ate very quickly, swallowing the protein in a few bites, and then started eating a second portion.

Kus remembered that Dura did not like eating this stuff before.

"Your appetite has improved."

Kus said.

Dura looked up at him.

"Haven't had a decent meal in forty days; now everything tastes good."

Kus did not say anything more.

He began to eat as well; the synthetic protein was hard, like chewing rubber.

Halfway through his meal, he saw a soldier sitting at the cafeteria entrance, and that soldier was staring at another soldier's neck.

In the afternoon, General Weisi came to the wounded soldiers' camp to inspect.

He walked to Kus's bunk and asked a few questions.

"How is your recovery? Is the food sufficient? Is there anything else you need?"

Kus answered them one by one.

While General Weisi was speaking, Kus noticed the Adjutant beside General Weisi, the young officer named Verick, whose pupils were slightly red, just like Dura's.

"General, you must pay attention to your rest."

Verick said.

Weisi nodded.

"I know; the war situation on Chengjia Star is tense, and the Xiuluo Saint's fleet is still holding on in orbit; we cannot drag them down."