Chapter 229: Trazyn: I Surrender!
Gor'bash had been fighting on this planet for decades. Before that, he had been nothing more than a gladiatorial slave in the dark city of Commorragh. When an Aeldari Farseer had bought him from his slave-master and given him his freedom, Gor'bash had been suspicious. But the Farseer had sent him back to the savage reaches of the galaxy, telling him he must raise an army and cross the void to participate in a war so grand, so vast, it was beyond his wildest dreams.
And so, Gor'bash had come to an Ork tribe on this feral world, used the powerful body he had honed in the fighting pits to kill the old Warboss, and then had led the tribe out into the stars, hungry for more battle and blood.
And then he had been stuck at his very first destination for nearly a hundred years.
Now, the situation on the battlefield was completely beyond his expectations. Where had these 'umies gotten reinforcements? And what was this "Boss-killa" the boyz on the front line were reporting?
His kunnin' mind began to work. In an instant, Gor'bash had pieced together the situation. The sudden appearance of the 'umies meant they were going for a decapitation strike. They were tired of the pointless attrition. And the target was, naturally, him.
"How'd da 'umies find us? I just painted da outside purple," a Kommando officer said. Gor'bash's grim look shut him up. They were long past the stage of needing paint for camouflage. Did he think a splash of purple paint would make the building invisible?
"Maybe me tek ain't gud enuff. Da 'umies' shootin' is too WAAAGH!. I've been too focused on da bigger, stompier meks lately," another Mekboy mumbled.
"I don't fink dat has anyfing to do wif how dey found our position," Gor'bash grumbled. The Orks were all confused. Even the veteran Nobz were baffled as to how the 'umies had pinpointed their command center.
'Da boyz are morons. Not kunnin' at all,' he thought, his patience wearing thin. He raised a hand, silencing everyone.
WHOOOM—BOOM! A massive fireball erupted in the distance. The Nobz all covered their heads. Gor'bash watched silently, then suddenly snatched an Ork Weirdboy and pulled him close.
SQUELCH! His claws punched through the Weirdboy's chest, the tips of his talons hooking the psyker's skull. "Da smell of a pointy-ear. I know it." Gor'bash crushed the Weirdboy's head. He then stood up, remarkably calm amidst the confused boyz. He looked towards the fortress's main corridor. His life in Commorragh had taught him to be kunnin', to know that pure brute force would only lead to his own demise.
But that did not mean Gor'bash feared a challenge. The blood of a duelist began to boil. He tossed the corpse aside, the psychic light in the Ork's eyes already gone. Gor'bash flexed his hands, his joints cracking, his claws extending as he strode out of the command hall.
"Let's go, boyz! Let's get to krumpin'!"
Something's wrong...
Inside the Gargant, Arthur slowed his pace, his black sword still dripping with blood. It had been less than an hour since they had entered the Ork fortress. He had led his decapitation squad in a highly efficient slaughter, using hit-and-run tactics to their fullest, and had already killed hundreds of high-level units within the fortress. The number of basic combat units was countless.
"What is it?" Chang Wei slowed, his flesh-and-blood body under the living metal armour panting slightly, his eyes filled with excitement. Under Arthur's lead, the joint force had suffered only a dozen or so casualties, yet had eliminated nearly twenty times their number of equivalent-level enemies.
"..." Arthur said nothing. He turned his head and looked at Chang Wei. He felt something was constantly watching him. He had felt something was wrong for a while now. But he still couldn't sense where the feeling was coming from.
"Bah, the infiltrator got whacked. I can't give you a precise location anymore," Ramesses's complaint came over the comms. "The Orks' local network is a bit too high-tech. Even the Aeldari can't stay hidden for long."
"Ramesses," Arthur said, signaling his squad to be on alert. The Dreadwing began to destroy the fortress's internal moving structures to prevent the surrounding buildings from suddenly closing in and crushing them. "I feel like I'm being watched. It doesn't feel like Orks."
"Ah, it's probably just battlefield jitters," Ramesses replied, using his other psychic viewpoints to supplement the details for his companion. "Don't go too deep into the fortress. The moving structures aren't something you can just stop by destroying a part. The forces outside will be wiped out quickly without a Warboss. These guys will come out on their own."
"Now that Arthur mentions it, I have a similar feeling," Karna's voice came in at the right moment.
"Then it's not jitters," Ramesses's expression turned serious. "I'll provide the overall intel. Karna, you help me run a playback and find the source." Master Arthur didn't touch the warp. His 'not right' feeling was more of a neural reaction. But Karna was different. The Angel's intuition was pure warp-metaphysics, far more accurate than a scientific neural reaction.
"Master Arthur, finish up as quickly as you can on your end. Don't let your guard down. I suspect the Mechanicus is up to something."
"Understood," Arthur nodded, and quickened his pace, black sword in hand. He glanced into the distance. A few hundred meters away, the unique roar of the Orks could be heard. A massive berserker was leading the charge, and at the same time, Arthur also chose to advance.
"Stay here. Prioritize cleaning up the grunts. Retreat if the situation calls for it."
"And you?" Chang Wei asked, looking at the dense mass of Orks.
"I can return at any time," Arthur replied. From a series of encounters, he had determined that the enemy was very cautious and skilled in feint tactics. He had a rough idea of his opponent's habits: sneaky, and highly efficient. Now, it was just a matter of waiting for the opponent to make his move.
He made a tactical hand signal, indicating for the Dark Angels to be wary of changes in the environment, and then advanced alone.
"WAAAGH!"
The red-eyed Orks lunged forward. The Human Federation's living metal armoured units fired their gauss rifles at the same time.
Zzzzap—
A chorus of screams erupted from the heavily armoured Nobz. The few in the front instantly fell, but more swarmed around from the sides, the WAAAGH! field protecting them, reducing the damage from the gauss weapons. Power-armoured boots stomped on the ground, and they leaped towards Arthur. A bunch of suicidal beasts.
Arthur didn't dodge. He kicked away an Ork that had lost the protection of the WAAAGH! field as it got close and had been half-disintegrated, the flying metal fragments like a shotgun blast. His black sword followed, cutting down.
SQUELCH!
Blood splattered everywhere. Several heads flew into the air. He twisted his right hand, swinging the black sword horizontally, cutting a Kommando Nob disguised as a regular Nob in half. He then raised his left hand to block. A foul stench washed over him. A Nob with a mouthful of power-steel teeth leaped at him, trying to bite off his head.
SHLICK!
With a slight exertion of his arm, before the opponent's jaw could close, he had sliced off half its head. The Primarch's stats were reliable. Shaking the brain matter from his vambrace, Arthur continued to block the corridor. There were many enemies, but the fully unleashed gauss weapons, firing past the knight's sides, gave these top-tier warriors no opening.
Gradually, the Nobz, who had suffered huge casualties, did not change their tactics, but instead charged with even greater ferocity.
"WAAAGH!"
As his blade cut down another, Arthur turned his head and noticed that, on the flank of the main force, a massive, all-black Ork had torn through the steel and leaped out. It was clear that the opponent was cunning, using cannon fodder to attract attention while the truly powerful being went for a sneak attack from the rear.
CLANG! A blade cut down, taking a head.
BOOM! A heavy shield and a sharp weapon clashed, sending sparks flying, illuminating the two suits of predominantly black armour.
"WAAAGH!!!???" The furious roar suddenly went off-key, as if expressing Gor'bash's confusion. How did this big git get back here? He had just been about to launch his surprise attack when he had looked up and seen the sword-wielding warrior waiting for him. He had frozen for a moment out of instinct.
In that instant, he had deployed the chain-axe on his arm, but the blade, glowing with a faint golden light, was already showing its edge in his blind spot.
DIE!
Stop, thrust. As if practiced a million times, Arthur's strike was without a moment's delay. The air, cut by the blade, was searing hot. The heat had already curled the hair on the Squig on Gor'bash's head. The massive Ork's body showed an unprecedented agility, and he dodged half a step to the side. But he saw the blade that had passed his chest twist and sweep towards his neck.
BOOM—
An explosion of sparks engulfed the two, and they were then blasted apart by the shockwave. Gor'bash was thrown back several meters, his crimson eyes narrowing. He felt his strength was diminishing. Something's wrong!
Arthur was also thrown back half a step by the reaction force, but he flexibly used the momentum to turn, the residual sparks tracing a curved trajectory.
CLANG!!!
The sword slammed into a claw. The all-black Ork hastily blocked. A burning pain spread through his body, his vision filled with the clear figure. Behind him were the eager, fanatical gazes of countless Nobz. His iron boots held firm, but before he could counter-attack, another whistling sound came to his ear.
SHUNK—
The straight sword was unsheathed, passing the embers and the claw, and with a soft sound, stabbed up from his jaw, piercing his entire head.
Arthur twisted his hand, about to split Gor'bash's head in two, when he suddenly felt something and dropped to the ground in an instant. With a few crisp sounds, the wall behind Arthur was disintegrated, the impacted area turning into particles that were invisible to the naked eye. You think you're the only one with a guard?
"Protect the Prince!" Cypher was the first to charge, leading the members of the Order of the Crown to block the subsequent charge of the Nobz.
Arthur crouched on the ground like a panther. He pushed off the ground with his longsword and shot sideways several meters.
BOOM! An invisible shell slammed into the ground, sending debris flying. A red and black figure charged out. He was almost scraping the ground, leaving a trail of fleeting sparks behind him.
Five or six Weirdboyz in the distance tried to lock onto the flashing knight and, without hesitation, unleashed their full power. Big 'umie? Get outta here!
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Light illuminated the corridor. A deep green ball of light exploded above Arthur's head, and countless deep green fangs covered a ten-meter radius. The Great Maw of Gork!
Arthur had no time to raise his shield. His iron boots scraped sparks on the ground, forcing his body to a halt. He then twisted his waist and swung his sword back.
SNAP!
A power-whip and a throwing-axe were both knocked away. Time seemed to slow in Arthur's perception. His eyes moved, and his figure flashed. The broad side of his black sword was held before his head.
Eh?
A shadow fell over them. The Weirdboyz were in disbelief, unable to believe that the other party was unharmed under their psychic influence. This... this is... this is too WAAAGH!
"Gah! Da Boss-killa's comin'! Fall back!"
"Wot da zog, ya git! Wot's dis 'fall back'?! Pathetic!"
"To face such a strong opponent, it's worth it even if we die!"
CLANG, SQUELCH!
A few sparks, a dull thud. Blood splattered on his body. Arthur's gaze turned to the left. The whip that had just been knocked away had coiled back like a snake, wrapping around his right arm, the power field constantly eating away at his vambrace. Fortunately, the living metal repair module provided by the Human Federation was helping. The vambrace was constantly being destroyed and then repaired. Arthur took a half-step back, pulling the whip taut. As they were locked in a struggle, he fired his bolt pistol along the direction of the whip.
BOOM!
The force on the whip suddenly weakened. Arthur pulled his right hand, dragging a tall Nob in front of him. It had been shot in the chest, its red eyes wide, as if complaining that its opponent was too cunning and treacherous.
Arthur glanced at him, then tucked his shoulder and used the body as a shield, charging forward.
"WAAAGH!"
"REPENT!"
The sound of melee was constant. A green impact came from another direction. Arthur still did not choose to dodge, but passed directly through the impact.
"Dis 'umie..." Gor'bash saw the knight charge out of the dust. He used both hands to press his half-cleaved head back together, his clawed hand trembling. Arthur's shield-body was riddled like a hedgehog, and he himself had been pierced by a lance-beam, but he was still moving forward, into the lances and crossbow bolts.
But Gor'bash felt a rare fear. The eager gazes of the boyz gave him no excitement. The roars of the battlefield gave him no joy. The roars of Gork and Mork no longer enveloped him. This made him afraid.
Gor'bash swung his claw. The air twisted rapidly, but before it could hit, Arthur kicked the corpse's abdomen. A roar in his ears, and the corpse exploded into a shower of flesh and blood a few meters in front of him. The blood mist obscured his vision for a moment.
A moment later, a dark trajectory pierced through the center!
With a single sword in hand, Arthur had reached the enemy in the blink of an eye. The black knight raised his blade. A few of the Nobz who had killed their opponents and come closer were so intimidated they instinctively retreated. The all-black Gor'bash met him head-on.
Twisted air and rushing blood mist passed each other. Arthur's knee touched the ground, and he used the momentum to leap forward. Two choppa-wielding Orks, caught off guard, quickly ducked and swung. But the knight's straight sword touched the ground, and like a stilt-walker, he bounced onto the heads of the two Orks.
This...
Arthur looked down from above at the two Nobz, who were looking up, their eyes filled with horror. The knight was silent. He crushed their gazes along with their skulls, then straightened his black sword and cut down.
CRASH—
Concentrating his entire body's strength into one point, and with the help of gravity and inertia, the black sword and the claw collided. The black sword cut from Gor'bash's left shoulder all the way to his groin. Gushing blood splattered everywhere. Arthur raised his hand, and before the hidden gauss weapon on the opponent's shoulder could fire, his left hand's melta-gun was pressed against it.
BOOM—
A mangled head flew in the chaotic battlefield, blood like a fountain. Then, the knight unconsciously looked at the Human Federation's guards, who were providing fire support.
There it is again, that feeling.
"Hiss."
Trazyn noticed the gaze that seemed to pierce through time and space and quickly leaned back, his hand steadying the telescope. He then put down the telescope, rubbed his eyes, and recalled the previous events. Truly dead. Utterly dead. The Orks' WAAAGH! energy had not been brought into play at all.
What in the galaxy is this?
"My Prince, the fortress's anti-air facilities have been disabled. We can support the Stormbirds' withdrawal," Askelon's voice came. The Ravenwing were not good at sieges. After separating from the Deathwing, they had focused on destroying the defensive facilities on the outside of the fortress.
"Well done," Arthur said, leaning on his sword, his body drenched in blood, standing on a pile of enemy corpses.
"My Prince, the annihilation mission is complete," Gareth and Cypher, having finished their clean-up work, also arrived. Behind them were the warriors who had collected the relics of their fallen comrades and had regrouped.
"Well done, warriors of the First Legion," Arthur said, removing his helmet and saluting the Dark Angels. "A brief rest, then prepare yourselves. There is still a war waiting for us."
Ramesses had already caught the one who was spying on them.
"By your command, my Prince!" Cypher, standing on the pile of corpses, took a breath. His wildly beating heart had not yet calmed, but was instead beating even faster. He looked up at the sky. The Stormbirds that would carry them to the next battlefield were approaching.
"Damn it! These heretics! These fools who should be executed!"
In the forge-city, Krik watched the harmonious scene and cursed. The harmonious and efficient communication between the two sides had given him an unprecedented sense of urgency. And when this urgency surpassed his current capabilities, all that was left was anger. The anger of not being able to achieve his goal.
"Solemnas, I order you, initiate an orbital strike immediately. I don't care what method you use. Even if you have to crash a cruiser into them. I want you to escalate the conflict..."
"Solemnas, acknowledge."
"Solemnas!"
"..."
The Fabricator-General's roars echoed in the communication system, but Trazyn had little mood to deal with this guy. He looked at the hovering Stormbirds and the circling Valkyries. He didn't know how he had been exposed, nor how they had found him. But the large-caliber machine guns under the Stormbirds pointing at him, the surface-to-ground missiles of the Valkyries locked on his position, and the stasis bomb that had already been thrown at his face, all pointed to one thing.
He was busted.
"I am Solemnas! I am the apprentice of the Fabricator-General of Mars, Krik! I am the discoverer and master of the underground ruins!" The staff radiated energy, blocking the encroachment of the stasis field. Trazyn, not wanting to be sent away just like that, raised his hands and shouted to the descending Stormbird, "I surrender!"
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