Baal II
Listening to the water seller in front of him, Alexander paused slightly.
Baal II, Baal II, the second moon of Baal, the homeworld.
It was also the legendary crash site—oh no, the landing site—of the crash king Sanguinius.
Sanguinius grew up here and eventually unified Baal III.
But this wasn't Alexander's destination; Alexander wanted to go to Baal, the homeworld.
Sanguinius' remains should be there, and logically, they would be there.
Alexander had to get near the remains to find a chance to resurrect him.
However, the drawback of the anywhere door was precisely this: if the map wasn't precise enough, the arrival location could also be chaotic.
Alexander hadn't arrived at Baal but at Baal II, clearly because the map he obtained from General Drost was incorrect.
He didn't know if this was intentional or accidental.
Was it deliberately blurred to protect information about the Blood Angels' homeworld?
Alexander couldn't help but inwardly grumble.
"Friend, what's your name?" Alexander asked the water seller.
Water sources on Baal III were extremely scarce. This was because, in the years before the Archangel's arrival, wars had erupted on these three planets. The three factions threw various destructive weapons at each other, directly burning the entire planet into a wasteland. Almost all water sources were contaminated, and most humans underwent various genetic mutations, leaving only a small portion with pure genes.
So Alexander had always wondered: on Baal III, with so few pure-blooded humans, where did Sanguinius get an entire legion's worth of soldiers back then?
The Blood Angels' gene-seed seemed to not be picky about genes. Did Sanguinius use mutants as soldiers back then?
Tsk, thinking about it, the Blood Angels, completely consumed by Bloodthirst, weren't much different from mutants.
While slandering, Alexander looked at the faint white light in the corner of his eye.
Sanguinius trembled, then seemed to be grumbling and refuting Alexander's slander.
But because he had consumed too much power in the Underworld previously, his voice couldn't pass through the obstacles in the Warp to reach Alexander's ears intact.
Alexander grinned.
Along the way, he had told Sanguinius many blasphemous, dark-humored jokes, but Sanguinius could never get his voice to Alexander's ears.
And Alexander loved seeing others frustrated but unable to do anything about him.
"Youji, water seller Youji." The water seller seemed to have scrutinized Alexander for a long time.
Only after confirming that Alexander had no terrifying mutations did he speak with apprehension.
"Where is Dante? Has Chapter Master Dante returned?" Alexander asked the water seller.
"..He's been back for three months, and they brought many refugees, filling Baal II," the water seller Youji said, wide-eyed, looking at Alexander.
Neoth Da Xiong, this strange name, sounded nothing like a local Baal name.
"Outsider," Youji thought, looking at the man's face, which also didn't resemble a local Baal person.
Three months? Alexander paused slightly.
He had arrived at Baal II via the anywhere door. When he came, Dante's fleet was still in the Underworld and hadn't set sail.
Then, relying on the effects of the Adaptation Lamp, he crossed the deserted desert in just a few hours.
The Warp?
Dante's fleet, of course, used Warp travel.
There was no true concept of time in the Warp; traveling through it could even lead to arriving at the destination before departure.
Dante's fleet had clearly encountered such a situation, returning to Baal three months early.
By the timeline, their fleet, which had gone to support the Underworld, had likely only just left.
How fortunate! The Blood Angels thus gained three months of rest.
Of course, it might not have been luck, but rather certain entities in the Warp exerting their influence.
There was more than one entity in the Warp unwilling to see the Blood Angels devoured by the Tyranid.
Alexander stroked his chin, pondering.
He needed to quickly get a reliable map of Baal III to go to Baal and find the location of Sanguinius' remains.
Alexander had once asked Sanguinius about the exact location.
But Sanguinius' answer was that he didn't know either.
However, Alexander thought that the Archangel's remains were most likely in the Blood Angels' monastery—Angel Keep.
The Blood Angels were also unlikely to mark the Archangel's remains on a map, as it wasn't a tourist attraction for checking in. Alexander had to find a way to enter Angel Keep and search for himself.
"Where is the nearest town?" Alexander asked the water seller Youji, "Do you have a map?"
Alexander could sense that the red mist in the air had strong radiation toxicity, with the deepest parts almost enough to send a person to meet the Emperor in a blink of an eye.
He was only unaffected because the Adaptation Lamp's effect had not yet worn off.
Alexander hoped to reach a safe town and find a map before the Adaptation Lamp's effect ended.
Alexander currently had a lot of savings, over a billion.
But most of it would be used to exchange for the item needed to resurrect Sanguinius; the remaining amount wasn't much, so he had to be a bit frugal.
He hoped Sanguinius would compensate him for his losses after being resurrected.
Alexander glanced at Sanguinius.
Otherwise, Alexander would sooner or later find an opportunity to stuff him into the four-dimensional pocket and sell him to the Future Department Store to keep the Burner C'tan Shard company.
Sanguinius shivered, seemingly grumbling that Alexander even thought of selling him, and also seemingly promising to compensate Alexander for his losses.
Alexander hoped it was the latter.
The water seller Youji tremblingly pulled out a map for Alexander from the interlayer of a tattered blanket.
The map was quite chaotic, with all the scales messed up, only marking general directions.
Alexander knew at a glance that this was a map that the anywhere door couldn't precisely recognize. If Alexander used this map for positioning, who knew where he would be teleported.
Baal III was once a battlefield, and the Dark Age technology artifacts used in those wars still remained on Baal.
Among those many powerful creations, there was an ancient relic called the "Water of Thirst" that could even prey on large numbers of Tyranid.
Alexander certainly didn't want to step into something like the "Water of Thirst" after opening the anywhere door.
"Angel's Landing?" Alexander looked at the mark on the map with a slight surprise.
To the west of their current location, a town was marked.
That was Angel's Landing, the place where Sanguinius had once landed, built into a small town and directly managed by the Blood Angels.
Alexander nodded slightly, stuffing the map back to the water seller Youji.
At the same time, he silently took out a small, not-so-pure piece of bloodstone from his four-dimensional pocket and handed it to the water seller Youji.
This was something Alexander had brought from Ashford.
Bloodstone naturally originated from Baal, so it was also hard currency there.
Youji's eyes immediately lit up, and he couldn't help but pick up the bloodstone and examine it in the crimson sunlight for a moment.
Then Youji quickly tucked the bloodstone into his pocket.
"Thank you for your generosity, sir," Youji said involuntarily, his voice becoming much more respectful.
Alexander merely nodded slightly at Youji, then turned and walked into the red mist to the west.
Youji quickly called out behind Alexander, "Sir! Crossing the red mist is very dangerous."
"Not only is there radiation toxicity, but you are an outsider and don't know that in the red mist, the beasts and mutants adapted to Baal's radiation also move silently, waiting to hunt those who mistakenly enter the red mist."
"Especially the Fire Scorpions! Baal Fire Scorpions!"
When he said this, Youji's voice clearly carried fear:
"They're not like other scorpions; those things can grow up to eight meters, and just a tiny bit of their venom can roast an adult from the inside out into a pile of rotten flesh."
Hearing this, Alexander paused slightly, then remembered the information about Baal Fire Scorpions. These scorpions were very famous.
A young Sanguinius, still an infant by age, had once ignored the scorpion's venom and single-handedly torn one apart.
This allowed the tribe that adopted Sanguinius to have a hearty meal.
Sanguinius had once told Alexander that if these scorpions were properly prepared and roasted, they tasted extremely delicious.
A little drool trickled from the corner of Alexander's mouth, but he quickly wiped it away.
Having lived in Ashford for so long, he had hardly eaten any natural food.
Roasted fire scorpion, just thinking about it sounded delicious!
"Sir, why don't you wait with us until the red mist clears?" Youji advised.
"Just a fire scorpion." Alexander smiled. "I'll punish you by making you read the Baal Debt of Gratitude lesson, 'Young Grandfather Sanguinius Kills Baal Fire Scorpions with Stones,' a hundred more times."
"Huh?" Youji looked bewildered and confused.
Alexander shrugged and turned to walk into the red mist.
Youji was a bit anxious, almost wanting to step forward and stop him.
But the old woman suddenly spoke, interrupting Youji's action.
"Fool! He is the God of Death! He is the embodiment of death and ending! His gun will bring unavoidable death."
The old woman looked at Alexander in terror and said:
"He is death itself. Who can kill death?"
Alexander seemed to shrug helplessly.
He had been blessed by the Emperor in some strange way and was called a Death God's Chosen by the Dying-worshippers. This old woman probably had some psyker talent and had divined some information through the emperor tarot.
Suddenly, Alexander felt the air grow a little colder.
psyker! And a strong talent!
Alexander abruptly turned his head and saw Youji's son tremblingly emerge from the truck, his face showing idiocy, foolishness, and reverence?
The child knelt on the ground, respectfully saluting Alexander.
"Omnissiah God of Death eternal dragon," the child's mouth was full of fragmented words.
"Sorry!" Youji quickly hugged his child, saying in a panic, "Don't blame him, he's an idiot."
"He participated in the Angels' selection, but hit his head in the Angel's Leap Grand Canyon and became an idiot."
Alexander stared at the child for a while.
The child murmured to Alexander with even more subservient and jumbled words: "God."
"..I am not a god." Alexander's mouth twitched, and he shook his head, disappearing into the crimson mist.
The colossal statue of the Archangel stood on the eastern side of Angel's Landing, partially obscuring the bloody mist.
But even without the swirling blood mist, this small town still didn't resemble a holy city.
The buildings here were short, crooked, and dilapidated, even along the widest Sanguinius Avenue.
If Sanguinius had not once descended upon this city, it might have evaporated under the scorching sun 'Balor' like a drop of water lost in the desert.
The streets were sparsely populated, some being locals and others pilgrims from different worlds.
At the Blood Scorpion Tavern next to Peace Market, local drunkards gathered, savoring small cups of Baal's local brew.
This liquor was made from everything that could be gathered from the Scarlet Earth, with very low water content, high alcohol proof, and many strange impurities, making it as viscous as a mass of blood.
But for a water-scarce planet like Baal II, this was a rare luxury, and the high-proof alcohol could temporarily make people forget the hardship of life.
"Recently, many refugees have arrived, from the Underworld. They keep muttering about bugs or something."
"Those muttering about bugs are fine, but some have created a new saint not recognized by the Adeptus Ministorum, called...Doraemon?"
"Yes, yes, those guys who worship Saint Doraemon, there's even a group proselytizing in our town...Why don't the Angels do something about it?"
"Recently, there have been more Angels, and they're all very busy..."
"Damn-ha!" The alcohol gradually took effect, and a patron with a distinct scar on his face shrieked.
But the roar of a storm raven gunship landing outside the window drowned out his strange cry.
He licked his lips and looked out the window with curiosity,
then immediately withdrew his gaze,
because he saw a group of tall warriors, clad in silver-red Power Armor stained with dried blood, approaching Angel's Landing.
"Angels?" the bald man sitting opposite him asked curiously.
"Yes, Angels again, so many Angels," the scarred patron nodded.
Angel's Landing was directly managed by the Blood Angels, and occasionally, the Archangel's descendants could be seen.
But recently, there had been an especially large number; the scarred patron felt he had seen at least a hundred, whereas before, he had only seen one or two at most.
"They come to commemorate their father, the Holy Archangel."
The tavern owner nodded approvingly, a man with a thick beard:
"It's a miracle, one we are fortunate to witness."
"Speaking of Angels—my grandfather once participated in the Angels' selection."
The scarred man grinned, as if showing off:
"Unfortunately, he and his companions encountered a young Fire Scorpion, and they almost won, but in the end, he had two legs burned off. Of course, the third was fine, otherwise I wouldn't be here."
"Oh? Is that so?" The bald man raised an eyebrow and said dismissively, "I myself participated in the Angels' selection."
"My companions and I put in quite an effort and took down a young Fire Scorpion, which might even be the one that sprayed your grandfather back then."
Fire Scorpions grew slowly and lived long; juveniles were only about three meters long, while adults could reach eight meters.
"I misremembered! My grandfather almost defeated an adult Fire Scorpion back then," the scarred patron quickly corrected himself.
"Then I misremembered too; I and my companions took down an adult Fire Scorpion back then," the bald man retorted, unwilling to be outdone.
"I can take down an adult Fire Lizard by myself!"
The bald man almost burst out laughing when he heard this.
He pointed at the scarred patron and laughed, "Why don't you say you're the Archangel? When I was ten, I took down an adult Fire Lizard by myself!"
The scarred patron's face instantly turned red, and he slammed the table, stood up, and roared, "I'll f*cking extract a Fire Scorpion's venom sac!"
Suddenly, all eyes in the tavern turned to the scarred patron.
Just then, the tavern door was pushed open, and a heavy shadow blocked the sunlight at the entrance.
"Alright, show me."
A playful voice came from outside the door.
A man wearing a yellow shirt, with short hair, glasses, and a hint of sleepiness in his eyes, walked into the tavern.
A lasgun was slung over his shoulder, and his other hand was dragging the object behind him that was blocking the tavern's sunlight.
Sharp-eyed people immediately recognized it as a Fire Scorpion's tail.
The man pulled hard, and the four-to-five-meter-long Fire Scorpion was forcibly dragged into the tavern, between the tables.
The entire tavern watched in stunned silence, noticing a gruesome bloody hole in the Fire Scorpion's head.
The area around the hole was scorched, clearly indicating a one-shot kill from the lasgun, precisely hitting the Fire Scorpion's ganglion.
For a moment, the tavern fell silent, all eyes fixed on the man who could truly hunt a Fire Scorpion alone.
Solo hunting a Fire Scorpion, even on Baal, was only attempted by the most skilled hunters, and they often sustained significant injuries.
This large Fire Scorpion was clearly an adult, and the man had not only hunted it but also dragged it back alone from the depths of the red mist.
The man merely smiled, tugged the Fire Scorpion's tail, and looked at the utterly bewildered scarred patron.
He gestured with his eyes for the scarred patron to look at the venom sac at the Fire Scorpion's tail.
The scarred patron's face immediately showed a timid expression, and he quickly waved his hand.
A chorus of boos instantly erupted in the tavern, and the scarred patron's face was flushed with embarrassment.
How could he have imagined it?
That someone would suddenly appear, dragging a Fire Scorpion?
Damn it, he was sitting by the window; he should have noticed, shouldn't he? It was almost like witchcraft.
Alexander smiled slightly and dragged the Fire Scorpion to the tavern counter.
He had hunted this Fire Scorpion on his way here; its head had simply collided with the muzzle of his lasgun.
"Can you handle this thing?" Alexander asked, pointing to the large Fire Scorpion behind him.
The bearded tavern owner nodded: "It's this big, been an adult for a while, but not old yet. My cooking will make it smell delicious."
"Just remove the venom sac, scoop out the internal organs, sprinkle a little powder ground from Baal Blood Grass, and bury it with its carapace in thick sand, heating it with the scorching fire poison from its venom sac...Trust me, on all of Baal II, you won't find better cooking than mine."
Hearing the tavern owner's words, Alexander smiled:
"Give me a drink, then prepare this big scorpion. I'm treating everyone in the tavern to a meal, and whatever's left is yours."
"Generous!" the tavern owner said approvingly, gesturing to a few of his regulars to help carry the large scorpion to the back kitchen.
"Not a local of Baal, are you?" the tavern owner asked after pouring Alexander a cup of viscous brew.
"Ashfordian," Alexander took a sip of the potent, viscous liquor. The alcohol stung his tongue; its concentration was almost comparable to General Drost's flask of Axema.
"Neoth Da Xiong, famous gunman, governor Augustus' specially invited sleep therapist, legendary string figure master, and a child educator who raised twenty-one successful children."
"Child educator?" This title made the tavern owner raise an eyebrow slightly.
"Of course, among the children I educated, four obtained executive positions in four famous galactic corporations."
"But what I'm most proud of is that I taught a child how to make a phone call correctly."
The tavern owner raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding why making a phone call correctly was something to be proud of.
He just nodded and said, "That's really impressive."
"Don't underestimate making phone calls; who knows, one day, making a phone call correctly might decide the fate of the entire galaxy!"
Alexander said to the tavern owner with a serious expression.
The tavern owner looked utterly bewildered, unable to fathom any connection between making phone calls and the fate of the galaxy.
After taking a sip of his drink, Alexander nodded to the tavern owner and said, "That child was born with an intellectual disability."
"I see, no wonder," the tavern owner suddenly understood.
Sanguinius at the corner of Alexander's eye trembled slightly, seemingly unable to suppress a laugh.
What a clear bird song, Alexander thought as he drank his wine.
The bird song of Sanguinius suddenly became more urgent.
Before long, Alexander smelled a fragrant aroma emanating from the tavern's back kitchen, stimulating his nostrils.
The scent was a bit spicy, a bit pungent, and carried a strange salty savoriness.
After a while, the tavern owner directed his staff to bring out plates of Fire Scorpion meat served on earthenware dishes.
He himself carried a large, solemn plate to Alexander and personally poured a cup of viscous liquor over the Fire Scorpion meat for Alexander.
The Fire Scorpion meat was as rich and tender as large crab meat, white and fragrant, sprinkled with a local wild herb from Baal II that emitted a stimulating aroma.
Combined with the thick liquor poured over the scorpion meat, a fragrance that rushed straight to the nostrils instantly burst forth.
No wonder, no wonder the tribal people on Baal II, after a single bite of scorpion meat, fell so far as to worship Sanguinius as a god.
For a scarlet wasteland like Baal, a bite of scorpion meat was an absolute true indulgence.
Sanguinius seemed to say something, and Alexander could roughly guess that it was complaining that the tribal people didn't follow him just for a bite of scorpion meat.
"To the renowned child educator, Neoth Da Xiong from Ashford!" The tavern owner raised his glass and announced to everyone in the tavern.
"To Neoth Da Xiong!!" A clamor erupted in the tavern, and everyone expressed their praise for Alexander.
Alexander gently raised his glass and turned his head to return the greeting.
Suddenly, Alexander once again heard the sound of a storm raven gunship landing.
When he first entered Angel's Landing, Alexander had seen a group of Astartes land outside the town.
This time, it must be another successor Chapter of the Blood Angels.
Chapter Master Dante had issued a call to the entire galaxy, summoning all descendants of Sanguinius to protect the home of their gene-father.
Many successor Chapters of the Blood Angels—some even close to rebellion or already listed as Traitors—had answered the call.
Alexander glanced out the window, watching a group of Astartes walk by.
The Power Armor worn by these Astartes was a dull red, covered with ornate swirling decorations, studded with gilded bloodstones, but this shade of red was distinctly different from that of the Blood Angels.
Furthermore, they wore white helmets, and the trim of their armor was also white; their shoulder pad insignia was three drops of fresh blood spilling into a skull-like chalice.
The Crimson Blades, Alexander thought calmly.
This Chapter was considered relatively mild among the Blood Angels' successor Chapters, not deeply affected by the Bloodthirst and Black Rage. The most interesting thing was that for a long time, they believed themselves to be the progeny of Robert Guilliman, deeply influenced by Ultramarines culture.
Just then, the batch of Blood Angels who had entered Angel's Landing earlier emerged from the other end of the street.
Alexander's gaze fell on their silver-red livery, and his eyes stiffened slightly.
"These two Battle Groups are truly your devoted descendants," Alexander remarked, looking at the two Battle Groups standing opposite each other outside the window.
On one side was the Crimson Blades Battle Group, clad in red armor with white trim. Their founding date was unknown, but before the 41st Millennium, they always believed their progenitor Chapter was the Ultramarines, and their gene-father was Roboute Guilliman.
However, their Bloodthirst and Black Rage were due to an unknown gene-seed mutation that they tried to conceal.
It wasn't until Astorath the Grim, the High Priest of the Blood Angels, found them. This High Priest was the executioner of the Blood Angels, responsible for executing those Sons of Sanguinius, whether from the progenitor Chapter or its successors, who had completely succumbed to the Black Rage.
Astorath revealed their true origins to the Crimson Blades, making them understand who their real gene-father was.
Yet, even so, when Baal needed aid, many elders within the Battle Group still felt alienated from the Blood Angels and were unwilling to provide support. Only eight hundred relatively younger warriors followed Chapter Master Kaan to Baal.
Standing opposite them, and somewhat at loggerheads, was the Blood Cavaliers Battle Group.
Alexander's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze on the Blood Cavaliers Battle Group extremely wary.
In fact, the Astartes of the Crimson Blades Battle Group were also extremely wary, so much so that they couldn't even care about the gaze of mortals.
Of course, the populace on Baal II—at least the citizens of Angel's Landing—were well-trained. Almost all of them lowered their heads, not daring to look at the confrontation between the two teams of Angels, and even covered their ears.
The Crimson Blades Battle Group's wariness was justified.
The Blood Cavaliers were a group of traitor Astartes.
They, too, suffered from the torments of Bloodthirst and Black Rage, but they chose to succumb to Bloodthirst, sinking into the instinct and desire for blood-drinking.
They suppressed the Black Rage by consuming the blood of innocents, but ultimately, due to the numerous atrocities they committed in battle, they were declared traitors by the High Lord Council of Terra.
However, the Blood Cavaliers steadfastly maintained their loyalty, believing that mortals had no right to judge whether an Astartes Battle Group was loyal.
Even when confronted about their blood-drinking, their Chapter Master Yor argued, "Mortals are cattle, and we are the shepherd's dogs. Is it wrong for us to feed from the herd?"
The Emperor once created the Astartes to protect humanity, but now there were Astartes who saw themselves as far superior to mortals, even beginning to slaughter mortals for blood.
"If the Emperor heard such a statement, he would surely praise it greatly," Alexander said with a hint of sarcasm.
Sanguinius was uncharacteristically silent; he barely spoke anymore.
Alexander's gaze subtly rested on the Blood Knight.
The Blood Knight was indeed listed as a renegade Battle Group, and they were indeed controlled by Bloodthirst.
But they were still here to protect Baal, answering Dante's call to defend the home of their gene-father.
Whether it was the Crimson Blades, who had rarely set foot on Baal before, or the Blood Cavaliers, who were deeply mired in their predicament, their purpose in coming to Angel's Landing was actually very simple: to find some peace, courage, anger, and hope from the relics of their gene-father before the war arrived, before they faced death.
The tavern's patrons said the Angels came for miracles, which was, of course, wrong.
The Angels came for sacrifice.
"This is where our father descended; we cannot fight among ourselves under our father's gaze," said the leader of the Crimson Blades Battle Group.
If they had met outside of Baal, the Crimson Blades, who had long acted according to the Codex Astartes written by Guilliman, would probably have already opened fire on the Blood Cavaliers.
But this was Baal, and their father's gaze was watching them with sorrow.
A dry, cold laugh emanated from the helmet's air vent of the Blood Knight leader, the scent of blood almost overflowing.
"We know who our gene-father is," the Blood Knight said. "We know whose curse this is, whose blessing."
"We always remember his name; we are closer to Sanguinius than you, wouldn't you say? Sons of Guilliman?"
"Well said," Alexander couldn't help but exclaim.
Although Bloodthirst kept the Blood Cavaliers constantly in a state of craving and rage, it seemed not to have affected their tongues; their words were still venomous.
This attack directly targeted the Crimson Blades' long history of mistaking their father, which was particularly effective, especially since many Blood Angels successor Chapters disliked Guilliman.
In terms of aggressiveness, Bloodthirst clearly surpassed the Butcher's Nails of the World Eaters next door by a large margin.
The leader of the Crimson Blades Battle Group almost wanted to immediately attack the Blood Cavaliers on the grounds that they were listed as traitors.
But he quickly realized that the loyalty or disloyalty of an Astartes Battle Group should not be exposed to the nearby mortals.
Moreover, the leader of the Crimson Blades Battle Group knew that he could not provoke the Blood Cavaliers now.
They seemed to have been Sons of Guilliman for too long and had not yet learned the Blood Angels' style of mockery and sarcasm; their aggressiveness was far inferior to that of the Blood Cavaliers, who had long fallen to Bloodthirst.
"But you are right."
Before the Crimson Blades could figure out what to say in rebuttal, the Blood Knight spoke first:
"This is a place watched by the Angels, and you have no right to refuse us here. We possess a purer blood of Sanguinius than you."
"Furthermore, we have come to support and defend Baal, and no one except Commander Dante and the Angel himself can refuse our aid."
The leader of the Crimson Blades nodded, seemingly trying to show as much friendliness as possible, and said to the Blood Cavaliers: "We are allies; we can coexist."
"No, we dare not fight alongside you; you are not pure, strong, and angry enough," the Blood Knight leader sneered at the Crimson Blades, letting out an almost ferocious grin.
"Is purity determined by anger?" the leader of the Crimson Blades almost instinctively retorted.
Perhaps it was the teachings of the Codex that made them always feel that reason should outweigh anger.
Alexander, with keen interest, forked a piece of scorpion meat from his plate and put it into his mouth.
While savoring the delicacy native to Baal, he watched the internal strife of Sanguinius' devoted descendants.
"Hmph," the Blood Knight gently exhaled a breath of blood-qi. His body exuded a terrifying thirst and the red heat of anger.
The fangs hidden beneath his helmet were almost showing; it was truly frightening.
Anger flashed in the eyes of the Crimson Blades leader. He seemed to be somewhat infected by the Bloodthirst emanating from the Blood Knight.
He and his battle-brothers almost simultaneously placed their hands on their weapons.
These warriors still did not want this to escalate into a fratricidal conflict, but the aura of Bloodthirst emanating from the Blood Knight was too strong.
The Blood Knight leader let out a mocking laugh: "I thought you were really Ultramarines spies who had infiltrated."
"So you can get angry too. Good, very good."
The Blood Knight leader glanced around, seemingly searching for something:
"You don't need to worry," he said while searching. "We need to feed… but we also don't like being watched while we feed."
The scent of blood almost surged from the Blood Knight leader's mouth.
"Remember my name."
The Blood Knight leader was still speaking to the Crimson Blades, but his gaze subtly swept around.
Alexander had been observing the entire confrontation between the two Battle Groups.
This perceptive Blood Angel Chapter Master sensed the gaze but couldn't pinpoint its source.
Under the fake skin created by Body Clay, Alexander always wore the Phantom Thief DX Suit.
This item concealed Alexander's figure and aura.
"Sento Yor, Chapter Master, First Blade of the Blood Cavaliers." Chapter Master Sento Yor of the Blood Cavaliers, unable to find Alexander's location, snorted and turned to leave.
The leader of the Crimson Blades took a deep breath, seemingly suppressing the anger in his heart.
He lowered his head and recited a few regulations and precepts from the Codex, allowing himself to regain his composure.
At this moment, he looked less like a Blood Angel and more like an ancient Roman nobleman.
Subsequently, the leader of the Crimson Blades led his battle-brothers to the Great Square to pay homage to their gene-father.
"You should thank Horus. If it weren't for him, who crippled the Emperor, leaving him paralyzed on the Golden Throne…"
Alexander glanced at the direction the Blood Cavaliers left, then at the direction the Crimson Blades left:
"Otherwise, your descendants might have fallen to the same fate as the Thunder Warriors."
"Come to Angel Keep tomorrow. The Emperor will reward your merits. No need to wear power armor."
Alexander said with a slightly sarcastic tone.
But Alexander was actually somewhat serious.
The gene-seed of the Blood Angels was a bit too unstable.
Even with deliberate concealment, Alexander still detected clear traces of mutation on the Blood Knight.
And while the Crimson Blades appeared calm, when the Blood Cavaliers exuded the aura of Bloodthirst, Alexander vaguely observed a Crimson Blades warrior without a helmet, whose teeth had elongated and pressed against his lips.
Even the Crimson Blades, who firmly believed in the Codex and had long existed as a successor Chapter of the Ultramarines, would be easily affected and show symptoms of Bloodthirst.
Sanguinius' body trembled, almost with anger.
He babbled a long string of words, but due to the barrier between reality and the Warp, Alexander didn't actually hear what was said.
Alexander quickly cleaned the scorpion meat from his plate. This Baal specialty was very much to Alexander's liking.
He put down the plate, looked at the tavern owner, and quietly pulled a bloodstone from his four-dimensional pocket, placing it on the table:
"Do you have a vacant room? I'd like to rest for a while," Alexander asked.
The owner nodded slightly, indicating that Alexander could use the room behind the tavern.
Alexander nodded slightly, stood up, and looked at the item he had just exchanged from his four-dimensional pocket.
When in doubt, first divine whether it's right or wrong.