Chapter 158: Why Are You Still Here?
The Blades of Obsidian, a successor Chapter of the Ultramarines, was founded by a Legion-era dueling champion. The Chapter's name was inherited from the obsidian two-handed greatsword used by this champion. The star system they garrisoned was thus known as the Obsidian System.
The several thousand observable star systems centered around this system all had stars that emitted a toxic radiation of unknown origin. Ork infestations were also rampant, which made this sector quite dangerous.
But because it had a large number of precious rare metal deposits, as well as a certain type of civilizational ruin that the various Forge Worlds were exceptionally interested in, this star system had considerable value, both to Ultramar and to the Adeptus Mechanicus. And so, the Blades of Obsidian, as an Ultramarines successor Chapter, were selected by the various parties and ordered to garrison this place.
But even for a Space Marine, over the long passage of time, under prolonged exposure to the toxic radiation of this sector, they would suffer irreversible damage. The flesh would begin to wither, the lifespan would begin to decline, and then the flesh would begin to rot.
One of them was their first Chapter Master, one of the Ultramarines Legion's dueling champions, Sevastus Scaevola.
"To think that after ten thousand years, I could still see such a scene."
Sevastus's voice, converted by the vox-system of the Contemptor Dreadnought, was somewhat distorted.
He looked up at the void outside the starport.
A brilliant Gloriana-class battleship entered the starport. Behind her was a joint fleet that stretched as far as the eye could see. Layer upon layer, even just watching the orderly advance of the fleet gave people a sense of comfort for no reason.
Such a military force made Sevastus's consciousness feel a bit dazed.
If only the Gene-sire were still here, how good would that be.
Sevastus, who had distinguished himself through his combat prowess even in the talented Ultramarines Legion, had fulfilled his duty well, guarding the Obsidian Sector for one century after another.
He had received the news that Drakus had been killed in action, that his Gene-sire was grievously wounded and could only sleep in a stasis field. He had received the news of Ioneus Thiel's passing, that the Hall of Heroes on Macragge had left a monument to this sergeant. He had witnessed the last Primarch, Rogal Dorn, disappear among the stars, the age of the Primarchs passing away.
Until one familiar face after another departed, and their traces could no longer be captured in the astrotelepathic communications.
Until the toxic time finally struck him down, and he finally entered a deep sleep. He had given his remaining time to the future, hoping that one day in the future, he could deliver his final moments to the duty his Primarch had given him.
[Two Terran years ago, twenty-six Ork tribes were annihilated or departed. Sector threat level: Low.]
[Transport lanes clear. Blades of Obsidian maintain garrison.]
This was the last message the Chapter had received. He should not have awakened at this time.
But, the Chapter's stasis field had been unexpectedly damaged. No matter how much effort the techmarines expended, they could not make this Dreadnought fall back into slumber.
It was as if some force was preventing him from sleeping.
"My Lord, we will surely find a way," the current Chapter Master of the Blades of Obsidian, Sextus, said, but the expression behind his Terminator helmet was无比 sad.
The Elder, unlike most Dreadnoughts, his body was intact, but it was constantly decaying. Even the vitality of an Astartes could not stop such a decline. If he could not sleep, he would soon die due to physiological decline.
"This is for all of us," Sevastus's voice, though somewhat harsh through the grille, still revealed his determination. "For the entire Chapter."
Outside the starport, an honor guard of nearly six hundred Astartes of the Blades of Obsidian stood. They still had four companies patrolling within the sector, escorting various transport fleets. They had also received the urgent request for aid from Macragge. The Chapter would detach three hundred Space Marines to support Macragge.
And in a corner, hidden by a Forge Temple, a techmarine was leading his small squad in preparations. Next, he would participate in a penitent crusade against the Ork tribes within the Obsidian Sector. No one had forced him. This was his own choice.
"I have never thought that I represented the entire Chapter, my son," Sevastus said, pulling back his dazed gaze. He felt that if he had the opportunity to join this crusade, it would not be a bad thing to await the arrival of death. "And if this is my destiny, then I will be ready to meet it."
They all knew what the crusade fleet was here for. After all, this crusade, whose origin was unknown, which seemed to have started from Baal on a whim, had caused quite a stir on Terra. Even their reclusive Chapter had received a warning from the Terra side.
During this time, the unsleeping Sevastus had also participated in a series of administrative dealings of the Blades of Obsidian. After all, whenever he tried to do some warrior-like rehabilitation exercises, these successors would put on an expression of "If you do this today, I'll go on a penitent crusade tomorrow."
At first, Sevastus was very dissatisfied with the lack of change in the Obsidian Sector. The living environment of the Chapter homeworld had not improved. After he had entered the sarcophagus, the construction of the anti-radiation isolation belt in the inner part of the system had completely stopped.
But after he had carefully observed the history of the Imperium over the past ten thousand years, he quickly felt relieved. These children were not wrong. What was wrong was this damned galaxy, the damned Adeptus Mechanicus, the damned Terra government.
And those damned Chaos.
"My Lord, our Imperium, why has it become like this..." Sevastus muttered to himself. From the moment he had started to deal with administrative affairs after reading the history of the Imperium, he had realized what his era should be like. He then said, "In the past, I was a weapon in the nation founded by my Gene-sire. If I can provide my insignificant support in the ruins of the Imperium, even if it is just this, I will lead by example."
"..."
The Chapter Master was silent. Since the ancient Dreadnought had awakened and learned of the current state of the Imperium, the most he had done was sigh, and a gradually growing desire for death. He could keenly feel that this steadfast warrior, who had guarded the sector for the Imperium for over a thousand years, was already seeking death.
This made Sextus exceptionally dejected. He thought that the elder was dissatisfied with them now. He didn't understand why it was like this. After all, since he had become a Space Marine, this universe had always been like this.
The Chapter Master then sighed. He had the Chaplain go and welcome the representative of the crusade fleet. This fleet had brought their Chapter a lot of relic-vehicle supplies. To make them wait would not make them have a good impression of the Blades of Obsidian.
Before the monastery of the Blades of Obsidian was a massive terrace. The anti-radiation equipment floating in orbit shielded this place, providing the maximum effect of protection, and could also fulfill the duty of an orbital defense platform.
"Component wear 41%. Estimated failure time, 251 years," Archmagos Cawl said with goodwill as he walked on this Dark Age of Technology starport. He was assisting the transmigrators with technology decryption.
Cawl's extreme experience, accumulated over time, could well complement the transmigrators' cognition, allowing their ability's decryption to be more accurate, and to dig out more hidden technologies from a series of equipment.
Since the two sides had reached a certain degree of technology sharing agreement, in an investigation of a forge world, both sides had noticed this complementarity.
Work together, and everyone has enough to eat, right?
Those who had tasted the sweetness naturally pursued higher efficiency and harvest. The transmigrators were also happy to learn. No one was more professional in this area than an Adeptus Mechanicus Magos.
"Can it be repaired?" Arthur asked.
"It can. In fact, it is not difficult." Cawl keenly sensed that the Magi of this sector did not seem to have fulfilled their duties very well. This was a common situation. Magi like him, who were so diligent and kept their promises, were a rare breed. Ever since the noose around their necks had been lost, the Adeptus Mechanicus had become more and more unrestrained.
"I will have Romulus communicate on my behalf."
Feeling the deadly chill from his side, Arthur raised his hand, and then several figures disappeared, beginning to investigate the beginning and end of the incident.
The Adeptus Mechanicus really needed to be managed. Referring to the production capacity of these grease-monkeys during Guilliman's future Indomitus Crusade, and comparing it with the data of the Imperium over the past ten thousand years, you would know just how perfunctory these people were in helping the Imperium with armament production.
After communicating with the members of the Ironwing, Arthur also felt that a deterrent was necessary. Unfortunately, the Legion's strength was still insufficient. They could only start with these tech-Magi.
But they would start small and accumulate experience.
Anyway, according to the new human empire's technology training model, in the future, they would have to give the grease-monkeys a big one before they would stop.
Cawl was noncommittal about this. It was also a good thing that someone was willing to supervise the Adeptus Mechanicus. These stupid people had caused him trouble more than once. He even felt that making the Magi involved disappear was too lenient a death. They should have their modified parts dismantled, their bodies exposed to the atmosphere of a forge world, and then die under the gaze of countless Magi, returning everything they had plundered to the Omnissiah. That was the punishment they deserved.
He then stopped. Because Arthur had also stopped.
Cawl still didn't want to get too close to this knight.
Arthur suddenly noticed a commotion ahead.
In the ranks of the Blades of Obsidian, a Dreadnought had started a conflict with Drakus.
"Drakus!"
Sevastus, who had just been looking at the crusade team with a nostalgic expression, his face first showed disbelief at the sight of the Invictarus Suzerain, and then, like an enraged tiger, he pounced on the figure that he found so familiar.
Almost everyone had not expected this sudden attack. Under Arthur's advance notice, except for Ramesses, who had timely activated a cognitive modification barrier to prevent certain people from hearing things they shouldn't, neither Karna nor Romulus had moved.
CLANG!
The Axe of Ultramar blocked the greatsword that the Contemptor Dreadnought had swung at him. Drakus's face showed surprise, and then, noticing the obsidian on the blade, a look of joy. "Sevastus, is it you? You're still alive?"
"Alive? Of course I'm alive. Or do you think some Ork warlord in the Obsidian Sector could kill me?"
The disruption field crackled, just enough to block the next horizontal sweep of the obsidian blade. Drakus retreated a few steps, then caught the obsidian greatsword.
The Tartaros Terminator and the Dreadnought were locked in a strange stalemate. This should have been impossible.
How could a Terminator wrestle with a Dreadnought?
"I received the news of your death. You and all of you died in the Warp. Ioneus brought back the Primarch, and then he also died."
Sevastus was undoubtedly a master swordsman. Even while controlling a clumsy Dreadnought, his offensive was still continuous under his exquisite control.
"But now you are standing here, and your power—" The sword momentum was still continuous, the Dreadnought roared.
"Which master have you served now? Why are you still here? Why are you all still here?"
"I can explain. I will tell you everything," Drakus replied calmly, his steps not panicking in the slightest.
"Good!"
CLANG!
Another clash. The two separated a step.
Sevastus gave his old comrade a chance to readjust.
A second later, he swung his sword again.
"Let our swords speak!"
The Dreadnought and the Tartaros Terminator were fighting.
Out of duty, the Invictarus Suzerains immediately raised their weapons and aimed them at these Blades of Obsidian Astartes, to prevent them from any rash actions. And the Blades of Obsidian also all aimed their boltguns at these battle-brothers of the crusade fleet.
The two sides were instantly at loggerheads, but fortunately, no shots were fired. Because everyone was not very clear on the situation.
The troops under the crusade fleet could not be corrupted. Those who submitted to Chaos would be revealed in less than a second under the light of the Emperor. The Blades of Obsidian didn't look like traitors either.
"Brothers of the Blades of Obsidian, I am High Marshal Helbrecht of the Black Templars. Can you please tell me what is going on?"
Helbrecht and Romulus exchanged a look. After receiving his approval, he immediately put away his weapon, left the team, and asked Sextus. He had a faint guess, but he needed to verify it.
"Brother Helbrecht, I am Chapter Master Sextus of the Blades of Obsidian. I also do not know what is happening. The elder seems to know that lord," Sextus immediately replied, and at the same time, he was relieved. It seemed that the other party was also full of reason.
Elder.
Helbrecht immediately pressed, "Ten thousand years ago?"
"Yes, ten thousand years ago." Sextus was also surprised why the other party could think of this, but he then nodded in agreement. This was not something to be ashamed of. This was their honor.
Other Chapters would be envious.
"I understand."
Helbrecht nodded and waved his hand. The crusade fleet team behind him immediately put away their weapons.
The Carcharodons, in their lead-black colors, were a bit disappointed.
Since they had followed the crusade fleet, they had not lacked for anything. They had rarely had to plunder people. They urgently needed an ignorant fool to find their feeling again, otherwise they would almost forget how to survive in the outer dark.
At the same time, Helbrecht was also surprised.
It was one thing for the Carcharodons to have a ten-thousand-year-old Dreadnought. How did this low-key successor Chapter also have one? Did these successor Chapters all like to hide things?
He pursed his lips and swallowed the corrosive acid secreted by his Betcher's Gland.
The sons of Dorn in the past had been plagued by genetic problems, and few had had the opportunity to enter a Dreadnought. A thousand years old was already old.
Of course, now they had no need to be envious.
The elder had already confirmed that he would stay with the Black Templars.
After all, since learning of the current state of the Imperial Fists, and the specific situation on Terra, none of these elders wanted to go to Terra to find trouble.
He glanced back at the solemn Phalanx Warders. A smile appeared in Helbrecht's eyes.
They had a whole Grand Company!