Chapter 157: No More Wailing

In the 42nd millennium of only war and darkness.

Death and cold seem to have become the main theme for all species in the galaxy. (Green Skin excluded~)

Especially for the Human Empire mired in the quagmire, hope spins in their mouths almost daily, yet countless humans never see even a trace before death.

But that does not mean the galaxy truly has only endless despair; countless faint sparks of humanity still shine steadfastly in the dead silence.

And among them, the two largest and most famous bands of light.

One is the fire lizard born of genetics.

The other is the Wailing, born of choice!

The Wailing's most renowned trait is its boundless love and friendliness toward mortals.

While the vast majority of Astartes treat mortals as expendables, only the Wailing regard mortals as individual living beings, willing to fight to the death for them, even to sacrifice themselves.

Yet a battle group with such camaraderie and humanity seems unaccepted by this cold galaxy, so the Wailing, whose human light flickers, has been a genuine tragedy since its birth.

The Wailing were born from a cursed conscription; this batch of Astartes were deemed potential traitors from birth, shunned by allies, naturally ostracized, and after enduring scorn, all were sent to the Eye of Fear for a redemption expedition, essentially supplying troops to the Eye in bulk.

Even though the overwhelming majority of Astartes eventually fell into Chaos, the Wailing were among the few who completed the entire redemption expedition and, upon returning, still chose to remain loyal to the Empire.

But misfortune did not depart because of this; rather, the Wailing's defiance seemed to intensify the adversity.

In the year 537 of the 38th millennium, allies, fearing the Wailing's "misfortune", actually abandoned the Wailing outright.

And the Wailing, unwilling to abandon civilians, faced Abadon alone for six weeks.

When reinforcements finally arrived, the Wailing had fewer than 200 left.

During the retreat they became lost in a Subspace storm and were declared "extinct" by the Empire, until over a century later a scar‑ridden "Crawler" returned, and after the Judgment Court repeatedly harassed them, they were finally allowed to cling to a small boat, huddling alone in a corner licking wounds.

Then in the year 904 of the 41st millennium, the Wailing finally earned respect from Xiulun and thought everything was on track, but were again deceived by Xiulun into joining the Great Rebellion, and only by confronting the Judgment Court's Minotaur Battalion—used to purge internal "issues"—with an almost "kill me if you want" attitude did they re‑establish their innocence.

Their loyal stance even led them to slay an unknown number of Imperial Minotaur Battalion Commanders, causing them to doubt whether they had struck the wrong person, and prompting an exceptionally rare proactive inquiry to the Judgment Court!

However, after the war, the Wailing were cut down to only three hundred and launched another century‑long redemption expedition.

The result: stepping out with one foot, they collided head‑on with the Terran Insect Tide, and the entire battalion was almost annihilated.

And then......

The Wailing returned, still choosing to shed their last drop of blood for the Empire!

Now, as the Wailing's iconic yellow armor and blood‑stained tears leap alone into the Insect Tide, merely to buy mortals a few extra seconds, Xisi's mind instantly flooded with everything about the Wailing.

Xiulun still walked toward the main gate, ready to follow the Empire's so‑called objectivity and efficiency, continuing the choices long habituated over millennia.

But this time, Xisi, watching the projection of a figure whose waist was severed by a warrior beetle yet, before dying, still raised an arm urging the mortals behind to run faster, suddenly spoke:

"Wait."

Xiulun, Fanluosi: "?"

Xiulun dared not even a hint of defiance toward Xisi; though Xisi's voice was soft, Xiulun stopped instantly.

Together with Fanluosi, he looked puzzled at his own superior.

Everyone does it, so is it right?

Xisi repeated the sentence in his mind, and as he kept questioning himself, he watched the figure completely engulfed by the Insect Tide, his body gradually straightening.

If everyone does this, then the Wailing's choice is utterly ridiculous!!

Xisi stood fully upright, then took a deep breath after straightening.

Then, amid growing bewilderment, Xisi quietly spoke:

"The cold in the galaxy is enough......"

When Xiulun and Fanluosi, furrowed in incomprehensible puzzlement, hurried out of Xisi Room, the surrounding corridor rang with continuous alarms.

A multitude of crew and soldiers, under glaring red light, rushed anxiously to their combat stations, while the massive fleet anchored in the void unfolded for the first time…

Combat formation!

On the surface of a distant planet.

A Wailing stood on the open ground behind a high wall, using his body to brace against a blast of Terran corrosive acid.

A painful sound came from his mouth, yet his body remained rigid, unmoving, until behind him a young mother clutching a girl fled in terror farther away.

Then, this Wailing, whose front was being corroded clean and whose green acid began seeping through the wound into his body, was granted a final gentle blast from a bomb by his battalion brothers at his incessant pleas.

"Everyone, hold on till the end!"

Witnessing another comrade die protecting mortals, a soaring voice echoed across the open ground behind the high wall.

The wall had fallen, and the few remaining Wailing used their bodies to keep the Insect Tide outside the refugee‑filled church.

And Battalion Commander Ma Lajin shouted, instantly receiving a rousing response from the Wailing.

"For those we cherish."

"We march to glorious death!"

The Wailing's battle cry, under Ma Lajin's lead, rang across the earth as they faced the endless swarm.

Then, just as everyone thought this would be their final declaration, the glow of the bombs in their hands was finally eclipsed by the fire of the Macro Cannon overhead.

Behind them, refugees hidden in the church cheered, and the remaining National Church Priest, increasingly agitated, rang the great bell, seemingly to signal the suddenly appearing alien fleet in orbit for rescue.

Only the refugees' faces were filled with post‑catastrophe fervor, waving excitedly at the fleet above.

Ma Lajin and the other Wailing who had shouted the last battle cry grew solemn.

Even though the Terran swarm ahead was stunned and retreated, they briefly attained long‑awaited safety.

Yet their gaze toward the mortals behind and the blood‑soaked, exhausted comrades beside them held only endless silence and helplessness.

Because even they knew that in this dark, cold galaxy, the human light within them could not be contained, not even by their own kind, let alone the enemy.

Facing thousands of Terran bio‑ships overhead, even if this suddenly appearing alien fleet truly had the power to save them, still…

Is it worth it?

For these broken soldiers, is it worth it?!

The other side's appearance in the Orbit is not to rescue them, but to exterminate the planet, thereby consuming as many Terrans as possible.

At least, in Ma Lajin's view, it should be so.

Only when the few remaining wailing ones silently bid farewell to their comrades nearby, and completely let down their guard, preparing to end their long suffering.

The radio, which hadn't responded for an unknown length of time, suddenly emitted a burst of speechless clamor.

Xiulun's voice was full of strained, ungrateful irritation, especially as he watched the wailing ones at his feet beginning to await death; thinking of Xisi, who would have to slap himself for killing a wailing one or a mortal, Xiulun became even more speechless:

"What are you doing?"

"Preparing to vacation back with your Corpse Emperor?"

"Hurry and get ready; the evacuation Yunxuji is arriving immediately, your vacation has been postponed."

"Next......"

"You have to work overtime for Lord Sisi!"