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Chapter 124: The Crusade Begins
🕑 Added 2025-09-01 13:28:02 +0000 UTCChapter 124: The Crusade Begins
[Codex Entry L1792 - Gavin - Imperial Feudal World]
Within a towering complex of snow-white buildings, a crowd gathered in a wide plaza, a complex and oppressive atmosphere hanging in the air.
At the front of the plaza, neat ranks of soldiers radiated a solemn authority. Before the stage were piled heaps of weapons, coins scattered across the ground as if carelessly discarded.
In the crowd, some stared greedily at the gold and silver treasures, a fiery glint in their eyes. Others looked with longing at the high-tech weapons that shimmered with a deadly luster, as if weighing their value. They had come here for various reasons: to resist oppression, to seek a worthy death, or just to fish in troubled waters.
However, faced with the dozens of towering Knight mechs in the plaza, everyone held their breath. No one dared to make a rash move.
The crowd grew larger and larger, the noise gradually subsiding, but the Prince remained silent, looking down on it all from his high perch, as if waiting for a critical moment.
A moment later, a tremor came from the distance. A Dominus-class Knight Valiant strode slowly down the wide road reserved for the castle. It was more massive than the Armiger-class squires. With every step, the ground trembled slightly, small fragments of debris shaking loose from the cracks. Its massive body was nearly as tall as the surrounding buildings, its broad shoulders and thick limbs displaying an unparalleled strength, like a moving war fortress.
Only when it reached the center of the plaza did the people get a true sense of its absurd scale.
In stark contrast to this magnificent Knight mech was its owner—a young man who seemed exceptionally frail. He was filled with an unsuppressible panic and disarray. All eyes immediately turned to him. This made the young man instinctively want to straighten his clothes, to maintain his composure. His toe caught on the marble, and he almost stumbled and fell to his knees.
"Your Highness, you cannot be hasty. Otherwise, my etiquette lessons will likely have to be extended by another two hours."
An old man's strong hand caught him.
"Uncle, they are here." The young man's face was pale. He took a deep breath, trying to force the blasphemous images from his mind, wanting to report secretly, but the old man cut him off.
The old man took a step aside and pushed him towards the vox-caster.
"Speak it aloud, Leonardo. The sole heir of the House of Gavin has no reason to hide things."
"This... is this really a good idea?" Leonardo looked at the crowd, which was three layers deep, and recalled the scene he had witnessed, his face filled with confusion. Even he, a Knight, had been so terrified he had made a mistake. How could these commoners withstand the blow?
"Speak," the old man's tone grew heavier. The kind old man who would usually let Leonardo skip his etiquette lessons was gone, replaced by an intense pressure.
"Yes."
Leonardo steeled himself and stepped up to the microphone. "The scout team has detected the movement of the heretics. They are at—"
"Louder!"
Feeling the explosive emotions behind him, Leonardo gave up and roared, "At a distance of one hundred and twenty kilometers from the principality, the reconnaissance force has detected the movement of the heretics! Approximately three hundred Knights and six million auxiliary troops!"
With the aid of the Imperium's excellent vox-system, the report echoed through the massive city, which housed millions.
Leonardo truly felt his uncle had gone mad. On one hand, he was genuinely terrified of the traitors' army. On the other, he really didn't want to talk to these commoners. What role could they play in a war? Even if the House of Gavin had its own industrial production lines and could arm them with all sorts of melta-weapons, wouldn't they just rebel first?
Just as Leonardo had thought, a dead silence lasted for a moment, and was then broken by a chaotic sound, like a passing storm.
"Knight-lords! Three hundred Knight-lords?!"
"It's over! We're dead this time! Why do I have to be dragged into the quarrels of these damned nobles?"
"Why don't we just surrender? It's just a cult, right? I can convert."
"If you want to die, don't take me with you—Arbites! There's a heretic here!"
"...Are you satisfied, Uncle?" Leonardo looked at the chaos below. With his psychological advantage established, feeling that his own willingness to fight was far beyond that of an ordinary person, he had regained his composure. He looked back at the old man, speechless.
Of course, there were brave men. They had passed through the layers of the armiger-guards and had each received their own weapons. But they were too few compared to the chaotic crowd in the plaza.
"I want this city to become a meat-grinder that will make the heretics bleed. A few tens of thousands of professional soldiers is not enough. Even if they fight for ten years, until they die, they will not be able to expend the weapons the dynasty has stockpiled. It will only benefit the heretics." The Prince stood at the front of the stage. His close-combat specialized Knight Acheron, as if sensing his intent, released its giant sword.
"The commoners are ignorant, and they are afraid of death. But to make them give their lives, you only need one thing."
The noise was exceptionally chaotic. A visible fear was spreading through the crowd. Many had already ignored the authority of the Knightly House and were beginning to flee.
"What is that?" Leonardo asked, watching the giant sword-tip fall to the ground.
"Despair."
DONG!
The Knight Acheron slammed its greatsword down. The sound of the tip striking the steel foundation of the plaza echoed, silencing the chaotic crowd. The commoners, frozen in their various strange poses, all looked at the high platform in confusion.
"Citizens of the Imperium! How long will you continue to deceive yourselves?"
"Among you are refugees. You may be holding onto a sliver of hope. You think you can still run. Among you are the subjects of the Principality of Leinster. You think this is just a dispute over a change of lords. But—" The Prince's booming voice echoed. At the same time, the images of the slaughter filmed by the scouts were projected onto every white marble wall.
"You will not survive."
"This has never been a dispute between nobles. From the moment of the Constatton Massacre, this war has been inseparable from you. When the heretics' butcher's knife falls on your heads, when the last principality of the House of Gavin falls, where do you expect to run?"
Perhaps it was the Prince's long-standing authority. No one dared to refute him. Everyone stared blankly at the scenes of slaughter. The skin of humans was being flayed by the cultists, their sinews stripped, dried, and made into harps.
"But I just want to live... I just want to live..." someone screamed, falling to his knees. His voice was so loud in the silent plaza.
In an instant, the Arbitrator squad had found him and dragged him onto the high platform.
"You are lying to yourself," the Prince said. "I know you. You are a logistics officer. You control the trade routes of all the dynasty's territories. You know better than anyone what has happened in the other territories. You have been panicking, wanting to escape. But the various merchant caravans you sent out to scout the route have not returned for a week."
"I—" The man opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
"And you—" The Prince then looked at a sturdy soldier. The projection began to play a recording of him secretly letting a group of young people escape.
The soldier quickly knelt.
"Your compassion let you release a group of youths who longed to escape. But tell me, what news did your scout comrades bring back?" The image changed. The youths had been disemboweled by the cultists, their bodies turned into marching banners. The technology of the House of Gavin was quite good. Everyone could match the faces, which had been filled with joy a moment before, and were now twisted in despair.
The commoners were stunned. The noble lords were really not good people, but the things in the images... they weren't people anymore, were they?
"Do you see?" the old man asked, looking at the stunned crowd, his voice still loud and powerful. "From the very beginning, you had no chance of survival. We will lead the army to resist. We will defend the property of the Imperium. But when we also fall, who do you think the successors to this land will be? Will they show mercy?!"
No one answered. The answer was already in everyone's heart.
BOOM!!!
Just then, a terrifying roar came from the distance. Leonardo instinctively wanted to dive back into his mech, but was held fast by the old man.
It was a saturation barrage of artillery fire, slamming into the void shield. The brilliant light that flared in that instant almost swallowed the entire sky.
"Uncle, the enemy has engaged," Leonardo growled. But the old man did not move. He just stood there, looking at the distant city wall being pushed down, at the fields within the territory being polluted by a blasphemous purple, at the cultists, holding banners of human skin and bone, charging into the fields. Their bodies were severely mutated. Behind their thorn-covered vehicles, they dragged countless struggling humans, torn and bloody.
Everyone watched.
"Now, you have only one chance," the Prince roared. "The dynasty will grant you weapons! Use your lives to fight those heretics! To fight to die as a human being! And we, the Knights, will always charge at your front!"
As for the rest, they could not give. Even the Emperor could not give.
The artillery fire continued to roar, blocked by the void shield. The Prince decisively abandoned the defense of the open areas, intending to make the battlefield the inner city, which was protected by the void shield.
"..."
The first person silently picked up a weapon. Then the second, the third. The two who had been detained were also released. This was not the time to worry about their dereliction of duty. Death was at hand. They could only use their lives to fight for a chance.
Leonardo watched all of this, a bit lost.
The old man patted Leonardo's shoulder and asked, "How do you feel, Your Highness?"
"I'll be honest with you. If I don't die in this battle, I'm definitely abdicating in your favor," Leonardo, who had been on the throne for less than twenty-four hours, said with a bitter smile. "Secondly, I think my impression of them should probably be revised a little."
"They are the descendants of pioneers, just like us. It's just that we have Knights, and they do not."
The old man looked at the ripples in the sky, at Leonardo's nervous expression. "Don't be anxious. We have the void shield. These traitors have no fleet. They can only fight us in the city."
"Right." Leonardo nodded with a sense of helplessness. He felt his uncle was really not in a hurry. The enemy was already at their gates, and he still looked so relaxed.
"This is your first time in a Knight battle?" the old man suddenly asked.
"Yes. As you know, before fleeing Gavin, I had skipped too many lessons," Leonardo replied awkwardly.
"That's perfectly normal. I also ran away the first time I had a history lesson," the old man said, a look of reminiscence on his face. "I still remember the first time I went to the battlefield. I was so excited, I forgot all the military formations and my family history. I charged into a pile of enemies. It was your father who pulled me out of a pile of dead men."
"And now, I am a veteran of a hundred battles." He let out a long sigh. He had never imagined that the corruption of the Prince of Pleasure would fall upon his own brother's family.
"Then you command me," Leonardo said decisively. Besides a life of leisure, the only thing he had practiced was a fairly proficient skill in piloting a Knight. He knew nothing else. He then added with a look of shame, "I'm sorry. I have been neglectful in my studies."
"To know how to use people's talents is also a fine quality," the old man replied, patting the young man with a look of relief. No matter how rebellious this child was, he had not run from his duty, had not fallen to the corruption of Slaanesh, and was now willing to pilot a Knight into battle. That was enough.
"Uncle, is there still hope?" Leonardo suddenly asked, making the Prince pause.
He then patted his nephew's shoulder again. "Of course there is, my boy. Of course there is."
"Go on. To your post."
"Yes." The numerous Knights strode forward, all heading for the front of the formation.
Ten minutes later, at the top of the city's defensive wall.
The rumble of war machines was already audible. Any soldier with a bit of experience could feel that the battle was about to begin.
"My Lord, say something!" a commoner with a volkite rifle shouted from a watchtower not far from the Knight. No squire would come to slap his mouth now.
"I am Leonardo Gavin, the sole legitimate heir of the House of Gavin," Leonardo said, looking up at the man, then at the expectant faces of the people around him, his voice clear and direct.
"Can't hear you!" a troublemaker shouted.
"I am Leonardo Gavin, the sole legitimate heir of the House of Gavin! Hell is before us, but it is no big deal! I am the 'Oathkeeper's Blade'! I will charge before you! I will die before you!" Leonardo subconsciously raised his voice and turned his Knight. The Knight's vox-system, which could kill a beast at close range with its sound, broadcasted his booming voice to the surroundings. It sent people and horses tumbling.
"...Now you're satisfied," Leonardo said with a sense of helplessness, looking at the commoners as he made his Knight stride forward.
But before he could get far, a dull but heavy sound came from behind him. It was a rumbling sound, like a tidal wave.
"?" Leonardo looked on in surprise.
"Forward! To the very front!" his uncle's voice came over the comms. Leonardo had no time to think. He drove his Knight with his mind, and the behemoth showed an unusual agility, weaving between the towering buildings.
BOOM!
The inner city wall was pushed open the moment the "Oathkeeper's Blade" advanced. Three Chaos Knights approached like daemons, their silhouettes twisted, as if they had crawled from the abyss of the Warp.
One was covered in exquisite studs, its deep purple and black body like congealed blood, its chain-axe tearing the air with the roar of its engine.
One dragged writhing mechanical tentacles, covered in skulls, making a nauseating clicking sound.
One was filled with the bloodless bodies of its victims, its steps silent and deadly, the muzzle of its melta-cannon glowing with an eerie green light.
The three of them moved in unison, their suffocating malice pressing down on the "Oathkeeper's Blade."
One against three. All Questoris-class.
Leonardo gritted his teeth, feeling every vibration of the mech through the neural interface, and closed his eyes.
It was his extension, his faith.
He drove it with his mind. The mech roared and charged, the ground cracking.
The "Oathkeeper's Blade" raised its giant reaper chainsword. The blade accelerated into a blur of silver and clashed with the purple mech's axe. Sparks flew, the wail of metal piercing the fog. The moment the two behemoths were locked, Leonardo heard a whisper from the enemy cockpit.
"Oh, my dear Leonardo, how can you refuse an invitation from your aunt?"
"Shut up!" he roared, a shot from his shoulder cannon hitting the purple mech's chest plate. The armor exploded, fragments flying like rain, but the enemy only staggered a step before laughing and counter-attacking, its chain-axe cleaving at the "Oathkeeper's Blade's" left arm. Leonardo twisted the mech's body, the axe blade scraping past, leaving a shallow scar.
The furnace roared, his heart beating rapidly. In an instant, Leonardo, now fused with the spirit of his ancestors, entered the zone.
The thundercoil harpoon lit up with a magnificent blue light. The "Oathkeeper's Blade," with an absurd agility, dodged the second cleave and, ignoring the whip-like strike from behind, sent its harpoon into the enemy's cockpit.
BOOM!
The power field tore the mech apart with a crisp explosion. Leonardo quickly controlled the triple-barreled flamer to sweep the surroundings, the scorching flames engulfing the suicidal assault vehicles that were trying to break through the squire-knights' blockade. Then he quickly turned to his next opponent.
"Next!"
The vox-system roared, carrying his explosive battle-lust to the distance.
There may be foolish Knights, and incompetent Knights.
But there should be no cowardly Knights.
At this time, besides the valiant battle of the Knights, the auxiliary troops behind them were also watching the dueling mechs.
Those who, still holding onto a sliver of hope, had not chosen to throw themselves into the battle at the first moment—they watched the dueling Knights, watched the houses that had been turned into ruins, watched the cultists who had also been crushed into pieces under the toppling buildings.
The enemy doesn't seem so tough. They can die too?
"Follow! Follow! Don't let those heretics with the explosives get close to the Knight-lord!"
Then countless professional soldiers followed, trying to output firepower in the gaps between the giants, wanting to kill as many enemies as possible.
"Charge! Let's charge with the Knight-lord!"
The armigers fanatically followed.
"Charge! Break through with the Knight-lord!" the troublemaker shouted.
The armigers and the commoners all fanatically raised their weapons.
"Charge! The lord is dead! Avenge the lord!"
Who said I was dead!
VMMMVMMM
Leonardo had lost track of how long he had been fighting.
A Chaos Knight had tackled him to the ground, its tentacles coiling around his mech's leg like venomous snakes, its sharp bone-teeth biting into the armor. A hydraulic pipe burst, spraying hot liquid.
Leonardo grunted in pain. The neural feedback was like a needle in his spinal cord. It brought him to his senses and also made him realize his predicament.
The mech's triple-barreled flamer was gone. Its ranged weapons were out of ammunition. Only the harpoon was still usable.
DONG! DONG!
The Chaos Knight was using its broken dagger to continuously chip away at the "Oathkeeper's Blade's" cockpit. He quickly tried to struggle, but found that his left arm was pinned under the wreckage of another Knight. He tried to turn, but found that the Chaos Knight's legs still had power, a perfect triangular structure pinning him to the ground.
Leonardo's face was filled with despair. He could only watch as his cockpit was slowly pierced.
This was too pathetic a way to die.
"Charge! The lord is still alive! Let's save him!"
Just then, another familiar roar came. Leonardo instinctively turned his head and saw that the troublemaker who had made him speak before the battle was now leading a large group of commoners.
"Charge!"
The troublemaker held his gun high, firing round after round at the cultists. Then a mutant charged at an absurd speed, its mutated long fingers slashing at the troublemaker's neck.
The troublemaker was dead.
The headless body knelt forward, but with him fell the body of the mutant.
"Charge!"
The slightly pale, chubby logistics officer charged forward with an explosive, and as his stomach was torn open by a chain-blade, he could only throw it at the Chaos Knight from a distance.
More and more people surged towards Leonardo. They saw that the Knight was still struggling, still fighting.
Guns and explosives were brought forward, carried by human bodies, engulfing the enemy and the legs of the Chaos Knight.
BOOM!!!
The Chaos Knight, its energy shields long since overloaded, could not withstand such an impact.
Screech—
The pressure from above lessened.
The "Oathkeeper's Blade" quickly got to its feet. As it turned, its harpoon blasted the Chaos Knight's cockpit.
Leonardo had never imagined he would see this scene. He had hoped that his remaining Knight-squires would help him, that his uncle's reinforcements would arrive in time, that the armiger-troops would drag some artillery over to blast this damned enemy away.
He had never imagined that he would be saved by a group of commoners, with their flesh and blood.
"The lord is still alive!"
"My Lord, lead us on another charge!"
People scrambled to the Knight's side. Their vulgar words did not sound so harsh to Leonardo's ears anymore.
In the past, he had despised these commoners. Now they were standing in the same trench, all fighting for survival.
Because he understood where the power he had wielded so selfishly in his daily life came from. Now, it was their time to fulfill their obligation.
"Yes." The "Oathkeeper's Blade" nodded. Its vox-system had been destroyed in the previous battle.
Of course Leonardo could still fight. He could still fight on, leading his subjects to fight on.
But where was the hope after the bloody battle?
"My Lord, can we win?" someone shouted.
"Of course we can!" Leonardo's voice came from the breach in his Knight's armor.
But could they really win?
No. There was no hope.
Only honor.
To die as a human was the greatest honor they could give these mortals.
The Knight strode forward. Leonardo led his subjects on another charge.
In that moment, he so desperately wanted to lead these subjects to live, to win.
It was just—
Was it possible?
The fall of this planet was already pre-ordained. The corruption of Slaanesh had come so quickly. By the time Imperial reinforcements arrived, this planet would probably no longer exist.
Can't win?
The Knight charged, locked onto an enemy, and engaged again.
But the moment they made contact, this Chaos Knight, as if it had lost all its strength, fell straight forward and was pierced by Leonardo.
He looked down in surprise and saw that the Chaos Knight's entire leg had been blasted away by a melta-cannon.
At that moment, Leonardo heard a series of roars coming from beyond the abandoned territory. He immediately turned his head.
They were tall warriors, completely encased in steel.
They rode vehicles that hovered in mid-air, ignoring the countless ruins and corpses, and began to sweep through the battlefield.
They cut off the tide of the heretics' attack, tearing a deadly breach in the bog-like battlefield with an unparalleled impact.
They would bring victory.
Like a divine army descending from the heavens.
The Valkyries of the Astra Militarum flew towards the winter, against the rising sun.
It was September 9th, 741.M41. The nobles who had embraced the Prince of Pleasure were cheering, holding an endless party. The Slaaneshi Knights, wrapped in human skin and sinew and linked to a vox-array, began the hunt, vowing to crush the principality that dared to resist to the last into dust.
At 13:39 in the afternoon, the sun rose over the traitor Knights' fortress. And at this time, countless Stormbirds descended. Ten minutes later, the ramps opened, and Astartes poured into the battlefield like rain.
"With sword and fire, we shall burn the land of the heretic."
A black sword swept across the star-chart, dropping flecks of gold.
"With the ashes of the enemy, we shall fertilize the soil of humanity."
Under the magnificent lights, the General, the Knight, the Angel, and the Sorcerer gathered.
Around the four of them, the commanders of every social strata looked on with fervent eyes at the lines that were gradually extending across the star-chart.
Then, the teleportation beacons on the planet's surface lit up. Aside from the General who was coordinating the entire battle, the various commanders all unhesitatingly threw themselves into the fray.
The crusade had begun.
(End of Chapter)
