vncnus Chapter 63: Pre-battle Oath, Boarding the Ship
Chapter 63: Pre-battle Oath, Boarding the Ship
"..."
Kadan felt the atmosphere around him suddenly freeze, as if his back was being pointed at by weapon after weapon.
Astartes shouldn't be afraid; their years of training and fighting have forged them into steel-like toughness.
But at that moment, he felt a chill run down his spine, and the discomfort of his body being torn apart.
However, Cardan was clever; he asked nothing and said nothing, but simply continued to admire the interior of the Dawn.
Looking at the sculptures and paintwork full of Trojan style, as well as the portraits and artworks that are extremely out of place with the overall style and can be described as casual and elegant.
The most frequently appearing and largest statue is the olive wood statue of Hector located in the center.
From time to time, ordinary people would pass by and devoutly leave their own carvings in front of the olive wood statue.
"This doesn't feel like a war at all," Cardan couldn't help but say.
"It's more like going to an art exhibition for ordinary people in Terra."
Moriarty turned around: "I thought you would wait patiently for me to take you to the meeting room before you spoke."
"I would like to do that, but it's really hard to do as I'm told," Cardan said.
"I have seen the Iron Fist, Lord Marus's vehicle. Inside, there are mostly machines, ironworks, and blacksmith workshops."
"I also had the honor of seeing Lord Lupecal's Nemesis. His bedroom was exceptionally simple, and he often chatted and laughed with the perfect warrior Seyanus in the operations room."
"But I have never seen anything like this... anything like this..."
"My lord also said so," Moriarty explained, walking ahead. "This was not my lord's design, yet he is loved by all, and they spontaneously shaped and changed this place."
"Our Lord holds hope and respect for every warrior and every mortal. He respects their thoughts and beliefs, and we are giving back to Him in return."
"I heard mortals praying. Is this some kind of superstition?" Cardan couldn't help but ask.
He once burned down a church of feudal superstition on Terra, subjecting its believers to the wrath of flames.
In his eyes, this was the greatest blasphemy against the imperial truth and the emperor.
"Every warrior who goes to war will also pray and swear an oath to the emperor."
"You know that's not what I meant."
"If you want to go back alive, you'd better not say these suicidal things. You should know when to be careful with your words!" Moriarty roared.
"This is blasphemy against our Lord!"
"If you study in the Legion and serve by the side of our Lord, you will know how much our Lord detests superstition, gods, and religion."
"Look around you, Company Commander Kadan."
Moriarty fell silent. Cardin turned to look and saw that the Dawnbringer beside him had already pulled the trigger of his weapon, the crimson goggles flashing with a blinding light.
The road was particularly long, and Moriarty was in a bad mood. He kicked open the door to the reception room ahead and started walking.
Cardan followed closely behind, initially showing little emotion, until he saw the two of them.
He didn't recognize one of the people; he was wearing Mark II power armor with a specially made helmet that was much thinner than the usual expeditionary power helmet, just covering his face and revealing his entire face.
He still bore the stench of blood and unpolished dents, mostly from unavoidable heavy objects and gunshot wounds. Strangely, however, there wasn't a single blade wound on him.
His gauntlets rested casually on someone's shoulder.
The other person was someone Cardin knew.
Avimus! His pupils contracted, but he had already guessed what was going on, and the situation was even better than he had expected; at least he hadn't died at the hands of the aliens.
"Achilles," Moriarty laughed. "Well done."
Achilles released his hand from Avimus's shoulder, and, seeing the other's humiliated yet somewhat respectful expression, pounded his chest heavily with one hand.
"Sir!"
…………
…………
The Dawnbringers' counterattack was much faster than anyone had imagined.
As the steel behemoth wailed and plummeted from orbit, exploding, the debris of the ship became an adornment of the eternal starry sky.
The soldiers of the Ninth Company aboard the Executioner witnessed all of this.
They watched helplessly as the frigate, pulled by Iron Seven's gravity and fueled by atmospheric drag, burned fiercely, tracing a bright yet tragic trajectory.
Achilles stood still, surrounded by shouts and the sound of running on the deck.
He stared blankly as the magnificent steel behemoth fell, a tragic scene as epic as it was.
For the first time, he felt a mixture of shock and longing.
"Let's go, Achilles." Patroclus found Achilles, who was still standing in the same spot.
He was accompanied by the Dawn Messenger of the Ninth Company.
"Where to?" Achilles muttered.
He slung the power spear he was wiping over his shoulder without saying a word, following behind Patroclus, who was walking at the front.
They bypassed the hurried mortals and brushed past the dawn messengers from other companies.
During this journey, they could feel the ship beneath their feet rapidly advancing and vibrating, unleashing a barrage of fire at the alien vessel.
"The situation is urgent." Patroclus gestured, signaling the soldiers of the Ninth Company to board the aircraft quickly. A few of the soldiers were equipped with jetpacks and heavy flamethrowers.
"Chapter Commander Jefferson ordered us to board that damned alien ship immediately, at any cost."
They weren't the only company rushing to board the plane on the deck, eager to drink the blood of the aliens.
This chaotic and frenzied scene forced Patroclus to scream out loud.
"Chapter Commander Jefferson has already led the Hound Terminator squad to seize the landing port. We need to act immediately..."
Patroclus didn't hear what Achilles said next. The attack on the Primarch's flagship made everyone anxious, and panicked roars and howls replaced reason and sacred oaths of war.
Time waits for no one, especially for the Executioner, which is closest to the alien warship.
This glorious warship, laden with honor and having served the Second Legion since the time of Terra, must be the first to respond at this moment.
"I understand." Achilles took a deep breath of the smell of engine oil, sweat, and unease that filled the boarding deck.
Under Patroclus's gaze, he boarded the assault boat.
His company was dispersed, and sitting in this assault boat with only eight men, Achilles turned to look at Patroclus, who was testing the communication channel and trying to overcome the communication problems caused by the alien technology. He felt a little empty inside.
After a long while, he raised his head.
His gaze fell on the waist of a Terran veteran standing beside him, who wore a piece of processed animal hide that looked incredibly tough.
Achilles's eyesight allowed him to notice the contents at a glance.
"A battle oath..." Achilles muttered.
He finally understood why he felt so empty inside; Achilles craved battles that were more glorious, valuable, and ritualistic.
"Patroclos," Achilles said.
"What happened, Achilles?" Patroclus replied.
Patroclus had just finished dealing with the relevant arrangements, and although he was still somewhat tired, his mind was still excited and active.
"I need you to witness my oath before battle, brother," Achilles said.
His deep voice from under his helmet was incredibly serious, clearly indicating he was being earnest.
Achilles' actions caused the remaining six warriors, who were adjusting their weapons, to turn around. Their helmeted faces were expressionless, and seven crimson eyes were fixed on Patroclus.
All that remained in his ears was the deafening roar of the space naval battle. Patroclus could see the oppressive anticipation that filled the air after Achilles uttered those words.
He wasted no time. After a quick assessment, he said, "Then let's get going, brothers."
"Don't take off your helmets, keep it simple, I will witness each of your oaths before battle."
"What is our responsibility!" Patroclus said solemnly.
"Following Hector's orders!"
"What is Hector's will?"
"annihilate all enemies of humanity!"
"Warriors, do you accept Hector's command?"
"accept!"
"Warriors, do you swear in the name of Hector that you will never let any enemy who dares to oppose the bright future of the human race go unpunished!"
"vow!"
"Warriors, have you sworn an oath for the Second Legion—"
boom--
The boarding assault boat crashed straight into the alien warship, the booming sound completely drowning out Patroclus's voice.
The assault boat's hatch opened, but the aliens didn't intervene; instead, they immediately unleashed a barrage of fire.
"Soldiers."
Patroclus stood inside the cabin and took the giant shield from his teammate.
A shield stood in front of the hatch, behind which knelt a loyal messenger of dawn.
He fulfilled his final duty as provisional priest, asking with utmost solemnity, "Have you sworn an oath to bring glory to the Second Legion?"
"For Hector!"
"For the glory of the Legion!"
The response to Patroclus was no longer a template oath; they roared their vows, picked up their weapons, and joined the war.
The squad member took over the giant shield from Patroclus. He lifted it with one hand, braced himself against the incoming heavy fire, took two steps forward, and then slammed it into the deck.
Then came two precise bursts of explosive shells fired from behind the shield, the two shells reaping the lives of two aliens who were controlling the machine guns.
"Well done!" Achilles exclaimed in praise.
The enemy's firepower density in this corridor dropped sharply.
Achilles seized the opportunity, fearlessly and swiftly pulling his teammate from behind.
Without hesitation, he threw down his weapon and ran forward quickly. After swinging his arms twice, he lunged forward, and the jetpack behind him propelled Achilles into the enemy lines as if he had teleported.
His charge instantly shattered the two aliens into pieces, their flesh and blood soaking into his power armor.
"Follow me!" Patroclus raised his explosive gun high and swung his palm forward sharply.
Holding the powered spear that Achilles had thrown down in one hand, he fired precise shots with the other, charging towards Achilles alongside his warriors.
"one."
"Two, three."
The alien servants, armed with laser guns, fired wildly at Achilles, while others raised their rifles, equipped with monomolecular blades, and thrust them straight at him.
Their attacks were futile, Achilles muttered as he counted the corpses that had died in his hands.
He had no weapons; he stood still, tearing and ripping apart any approaching enemies with only his bare hands.
With his powerful physique and armor, Achilles didn't take these aliens seriously at all.
By the time Achilles counted to the eighteenth man, Patroclus and his squad had arrived and completely routed the enemy lines.
"What is our mission, Patroclus brothers?" asked a Dawnbringer wielding a machine gun.
"Exterminate all enemies of humanity." Patroclus's only reply was this one sentence.
This means they didn't have a specific mission, and the Scarlet Hounds didn't have time to give them orders.
The jamming of communications equipment, the attack on the Dawn, and the impending second round of surprise bombardment by the alien warships all forced Jefferson, commander of the 2nd Regiment of the 9th Company, to make an immediate decision.
Unable to penetrate the alien warship's void shield immediately, the Executioner could only create a breach by boarding the ship.
The Ninth Company was not assigned the tasks of destroying shield generators or decapitation strikes, which means—
"Kill them all!" Achilles said without hesitation.
He removed the pierced alien body that was hanging from his forearm.
He took the spear that Patroclus handed him and charged into the deepest part of the cave without hesitation.
"Follow Achilles!" Patroclus shouted. "He's determined to lose his life!"
"I believe in the company commander's abilities," a teammate shrugged.
As he shrugged, the muzzle of the machine gun he was wearing rose, pointing at another person's head. The other person glanced at it and took a step back.
"Be careful, this makes people feel very unsafe."
The entire alien ship was exploding and wailing.
This wail was no longer the final swan song of the steel behemoth that Achilles and his companions had imagined, but a genuine cry of pain and agony.
Like the sirens' mournful dirge in the story, with each step the dawn messengers took, their minds were almost tormented by this near-mental torture of screams.
Many of the Trojan recruits from the Ninth Company even knelt down, their hands trembling as they raised their weapons and fired wildly at the ship's bulkheads until they emptied all their magazines.
They attempted to destroy the warship from the inside.
This presented the most severe challenge to the progress.
Even Achilles, as a company commander, could not avoid it. His mind was filled with bizarre and fantastical images, resembling rivers, starry seas, and galaxies, followed by a deeper, abyss-like darkness, and a low, twisted, murmured laugh from the depths of that darkness.
It is extremely faint, yet it truly exists, placing immense pressure on the spirit of every dawn messenger.
Achilles slammed his hand into the bulkhead of the warship, allowing them only a brief respite from the wailing as they moved forward.
"We should just blow it up!" Achilles roared.
Patroclus followed with difficulty, his helmet unable to filter out the dirge that struck the very soul.
It nodded: "That's right, we should overload his Void Shield and destroy him directly in the void."
"Should we wait for them?" Patroclus asked.
He was referring to his comrades who were clearing out the alien servants who had joined the army.
The Dawnbringers of the Ninth Company have rapidly assembled in the midsection of the warship, as required by Patroclus's pre-battle instructions.
They built a defensive line nearby.