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Chapter 97: A Long Day
🕑 Added 2025-08-18 14:27:47 +0000 UTCChapter 97: A Long Day
[741.M41-P | AM 13:13]
January 4th, Terran Standard. This was destined to be a long day.
The Hive Fleet's bombardment had not ceased for three days. The dust cloud it had kicked up had almost completely blotted out the sky, turning the noon-time zone where the Shrine was located into perpetual night.
The dim light illuminated the dust-covered weapons of the soldiers. As the shelling paused, the crusade-militia automatically shook the radioactive dust from their bodies. Yulia grabbed a new recruit by her side who had forgotten the shelling had stopped and was still screaming, and quickly ran out of the blast-proof shelter.
"Quick, fireteams, reset positions!"
A single shot from her lasrifle melted a Gaunt that had slipped through the net. Yulia's voice spread through the wireless.
"Yes, Captain!"
A few scattered responses came from the other end.
Yulia let out a long sigh of relief. Thank the heavens. When the heresy had first broken out, even the electric stove in her house wouldn't turn on.
She then climbed up to a fire-point. The field of view here was somewhat narrow, but the advantage was that the thick steel on her flanks provided cover, which was a lifesaver in the salient they were holding.
At the tip of the defensive line, the Hive Fleet had already broken through the heavy artillery's kill-zone. A few scattered Biovores that had survived the Astartes' precision strikes were beginning to provide direct fire with their back-mounted cannons, while driving large swarms of bioforms forward in waves, giving the humans no quarter.
The metal of the fortifications had been charred black. Flesh, carapace, and metal had been fused together by the heat into a strange, inorganic substance. Wails, shouts, and roars came from the distance. An armed militiaman ran to the front of the trench. The moment he stood up, he was hit by a random projectile, and his head exploded like a watermelon.
The flamer-crews responsible for close-in defense swarmed forward, reducing the corpse and the fleshborer beetles within it to ash.
The horrific scene did not frighten the others. Their muscles tensed, they continued to maintain their fire, laser beams lancing into the dense Tyranid swarm, holding back the tide of the assault.
"Fire a flare towards the swarm's position!"
Yulia chewed on a mouthful of nutrient-porridge, listening to the order from her superior. She quickly fired a flare towards the Hive Fleet's line of advance. At the same time, the other two fireteams also launched flares into the densest areas. Three coordinates lit up like beams of light. At the same instant, the artillery, having corrected its aim, quickly resumed its barrage.
The density of fire had decreased.
'Looks like the situation in the other sectors is even more critical.'
Tossing aside the overheated power pack and slapping in a new one, Yulia looked coolly at the swarm ahead, mechanically aiming and firing.
After all this time fighting, their morale had fallen and risen several times. In less than a week, it had become the most stable thing they had. Because everyone had come to accept a simple fact: these enemies were here to wipe them out, and the Astartes would fight with them until the very last moment.
What else was there to say?
Fight! Fight until not a single enemy, or not a single human, was left standing!
War was cruel. It would use death to weed out the weak and select the strong. The bodies of the dead would be turned to ash to prevent the swarm from reclaiming them. And the surviving warriors, bathed in the ashes of their comrades, would only have their blades sharpened.
If there was anything to say, it was pure exhaustion.
Lord Romulus had provided them with sufficient weapons, food, and medicae. But after all this time, their digestive systems were desperately trying to extract nutrients, and the combat stimms were pushing them to the point of mental exhaustion. And still, the bugs kept coming.
The intensity of the fighting reminded her of the platforms below, which had changed hands several times. The bodies there were already piled into small mountains, carbonized by the searing flames, firmly propping up the regimental standard that had been on the verge of collapse so many times.
Life, in the struggle for survival, had already burned itself out.
"!"
Her hand touched the barrel of her gun. The searing heat brought Yulia, who had been mechanically pulling the trigger, back to her senses. She quickly fumbled for the medicae pouch on her lower back.
The stimms were empty.
Slightly adjusting her angle so that her continuous fire could cover more enemies, Yulia pulled another combat stimm from her collar. According to regulations, the use of combat drugs should not exceed the human body's threshold. But with the battle at this stage, the quartermasters had stopped caring about such things. Basically, everyone had an extra dose of combat stimms. The only reason they were packed separately was to remind you that after this shot, you were basically dead. The kind of organ failure that couldn't be saved.
Heh, if I don't inject it, I'll die right now.
Yulia looked at the hive in front of her, preparing to plunge the injector into her neck.
And just then, the building of the salient they were in shook.
The stimm, to Yulia's frustration, was knocked to the ground. Just as she blindly reached out a hand to feel for it, she touched a cold, iron plate.
?
Yulia tilted her head, the finger that had been continuously pulling the trigger freezing. The Tyranid Biovore's plasma had already blasted the elevation of this position down by ten meters. Was there still any metal that was cool to the touch?
Just then, she heard the sound of a heavy bolter firing.
Yulia was shocked. She quickly rolled into a backup safe zone. She then glanced over and saw a scene she would never forget for the rest of her life.
It was a Space Marine, wreathed in flames.
She couldn't see his livery, couldn't see his face. Only the flames burned eternal.
"Fall back, soldier," he said, stepping forward. He took over the work of her entire fireteam, the bolter in his hands spewing a seemingly endless stream of shells. "We will take it from here."
Yulia stared blankly at the shattered injector on the ground, then nervously pressed her comm-bead and began to report.
"Report. I have sighted an unknown Angel of the Emperor. His body is wreathed in flames."
There was silence on the other end of the comms. Just as Yulia was about to assume her commander had been killed, the middle-aged man, a former factory foreman who had been promoted to commander, slowly spoke.
"...Yes."
On a higher point of the battlefield, he was staring blankly at the scene below.
An ethereal flame had ignited. And in the scattered embers, one burning Space Marine after another appeared.
"I see them too."
"Lord Romulus, the defenders of the second salient have suffered forty percent casualties."
"Lord Romulus, Chaplain Oliver has been killed. The losses of the 31st Armed Faithful cannot be confirmed. The command node has been disconnected."
"Lord Romulus, the rearguard has not completed its reinforcement. Shall we contract the defensive lines?"
In the command center, the atmosphere was particularly grim. Runners constantly brought in new data. The cold, hard numbers represented group after group of people who had sacrificed themselves on the front lines.
"Salient, compress the defensive formation. Have the 14th Reserve replace the 31st's defensive line. Rearguard, abandon reinforcement and press forward," Romulus commanded coldly, his gaze sweeping over the lists of names.
There was not much he could do. The quality of his troops and their organizational structure did not allow for any fancy maneuvers. No amount of black technology could be used for anything other than a rigid, sweeping bombardment. Romulus could only remember the soldiers' names and then order them to their deaths.
"Yes, my Lord!"
Thanks to the shadow the Hive Fleet had cast in the Warp, at least the annoying static on the wireless was gone. But there was also bad news. The pressure from the Hive Fleet was also growing stronger.
"My Lord! Urgent communication!"
"Patch it through."
"Lord Romulus, a new force of the Emperor's Angels has appeared on the front line. Their bodies are wreathed in flames."
Hmm?
Romulus frowned. He almost immediately thought of the Legion of the Damned, and then instinctively thought of his two partners who were still fighting in the Warp.
"Their location?"
"They are everywhere," the frontline commander's reply was incoherent. "Almost every defensive line has reported sightings of these Emperor's Angels. These Angels are taking over the defense of the salients. Their numbers are great, and they are ordering us to fall back."
"I understand. Have the troops withdraw to the reserve defensive line."
A look of surprise appeared on Romulus's face. His link to some of his Space Marines had been cut. He could still receive their visual feed, but he could no longer perfectly control their actions, as if someone were fighting him for the controller of a game character.
What has Ramesses done now?
Romulus's thoughts paused. He was about to spawn two new Space Marines to check on the situation when the sound of iron armor hitting the ground came from behind him. Almost all of his Space Marine forces had already been deployed. The only ones left guarding the command center were a ten-man squad composed of the company champions of the Black Templars and the Carcharodons.
Everyone turned as if electrocuted to look at the Space Marine who had just walked into the command center. Such a scene had almost never happened in the nearly three months of the offensive.
"The defensive line is well-designed," the man said, first looking over the combat data in the command center, then offering his assessment. "But it is not aggressive enough."
The transmigrators, by instinct, valued human life too much. In this universe, this was a fatal weakness.
"Let them in. Free up the fireteams that are filling the lines. Concentrate your fire and bleed them."
The Space Marine seemed to be a bit unused to his height. He held out his hand, then awkwardly lowered it, before drawing a few lines on the holographic display.
Such a maneuver showed a complete disregard for the lives of the defenders in the salient. And it required an extremely high quality of troops to withstand the siege. They would have to endure attacks from all sides, and at the same time, be ready to provide fire the moment the enemy could no longer sustain their losses.
But it seemed the troops in the salient right now were not human.
"Can you command the Legion of the Damned?" Romulus asked, frowning, looking at this Imperial Fist who was wearing the livery of the Black Templars.
"I can," the Space Marine replied without hesitation.
"Are you still willing to fight for humanity?" Romulus asked again.
"I guarantee you, no matter how much steel is left in the soul within this body, I will always fight for humanity," the Space Marine nodded again. "I will show you how I will defend against such an attack."
"Command of the defensive operation is yours. I will handle the details." Romulus decisively ceded his position.
"Good." The Space Marine nodded, then began to regroup the forces, using the constantly appearing Legion of the Damned to relieve the exhausted troops. The reason for doing this was to free up enough combat power that could enter the Hive Fleet's psychic shadow.
Because on a distant battlefield, not far from Karna, a high-energy individual was rapidly approaching, wrapped in a massive swarm of Tyranids.
The Hive Mind was determined to cut down that burning banner, to completely drown humanity in despair.
"Karna," Romulus warned. "Another high-energy individual is approaching."
"It doesn't matter," Karna's reply came from the other end of the comms.
"Let them come!"
(End of Chapter)
