"Sector Noise Command, this is—crackle—requesting backup..."
Countless distress signals were frantically transmitted into space, streaking toward the horizon. They prayed that Imperial fleets in nearby systems, Astartes Chapters, or any armed military forces would receive the signal and rush to their aid.
But it was destined to be in vain. The Warp blockade had completely severed all psychic and electronic communication between ASH-3 and the Imperial Nexus. The armed forces of the Imperial Guard's XXX Regiment stationed on ASH-3 were utterly fragile before the invading Chaos Legions.
War ravaged the entire surface of the planet. Cities were leveled, settlements were massacred, and horrific slaughter unfolded every minute of every day. Their enemy was the most powerful entity among the four Chaos Gods: Khorne, the Lord of Skulls, the God of Blood and Slaughter, and his brutal Chaos Legions. Mass invasions of Khornate forces slaughtered all life in their path, severing heads and sacrificing blood to their dark god.
ASH-3 Coordinates XX: The Thorn Garden. This was the final defensive line for humanity against the Chaos Daemons. What was once the most beautiful plain on the planet had turned into a bloody, cruel charnel house. Countless Khornate daemons, moving like a swarm of locusts, poured endlessly over the horizon.
"Damn it, there are too many of them! We have to retreat!"
Frank's voice rose over the staccato bark of his boltgun. The roaring firearm thundered and vibrated against his cheek, while a thick layer of spent, scorching casings piled up at his feet.
"Shit! By the God-Emperor, where is there left to retreat to?"
Hearing his companion's shout, Roy adjusted his steel helmet and responded, though his lasgun never stopped firing into the enemy ranks. As he said, there was no longer a safe place on the planet. The straight-line distance between them and those damned bastards was less than three hundred meters.
Originally, this trench was supposed to be held by a full squad of Imperial Guardsmen, but only the two of them remained. Their fingers pulled the triggers rhythmically; their hearts had long since grown cold, and only the barrels of their rifles remained hot.
"Do you hear that? A strange sound?" Frank asked Roy.
"Yeah, wait..." Roy heard it too. "It seems to be coming from above."
They cast their eyes toward the sky.
What was that?!
Deep within the clouds, a crimson shadow tumbled and surged. Its massive size and terrifying, wild silhouette caused one's spirit to falter. A deafening roar thundered from the heavens, generated merely by the vibration of wings large enough to blot out the sun. The air grew thick with the heavy scent of sulfur and blood.
The creature's crimson skin was covered in steel-like scales, yet it wore enchanted brass armor forged by Khorne himself. Engraved upon it was the sigil of the "Eight Pillars of Khorne," signifying its status as a Greater Daemon—a Bloodthirster.
"FOR THE GLORY OF THE BLOOD GOD!!!"
The terrifying Greater Daemon let out a bone-shaking roar. It hissed, its crimson pupils burning like raging fires. Wherever this tyrant of destruction swept, the entire plain filled with his resounding fury.
"Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!"
The Chaos Daemons were galvanized. The biological cannons within the legion absorbed malevolent hellfire energy from the Warp, swelling in size. Countless red beams of destruction roared from the Chaos ranks, lunging toward the Imperial steel defensive line. Self-propelled artillery and defensive installations melted like snow under the destructive power, turning into rivers of orange-red molten iron.
A terrifying blast from a demonic cannon struck very close to Frank's position, knocking both of them unconscious with the shockwave.
When Frank regained consciousness, he didn't even have time to wipe the filth from his face. He rolled instinctively; a split second later, a sharp greatsword slammed into the spot where he had just been lying.
"A Bloodletter!"
Frank was scared out of his wits. One look at these hideous monsters was enough to traumatize a mortal for life, let alone seeing one step out of an encyclopedia and stand right in front of him. This humanoid monster featured a gaunt, crimson skull beneath two massive demonic horns. Needle-sharp teeth lined its lower jaw, and its serpentine tongue flickered incessantly.
With a slight tug, it pulled its greatsword from the rock. This two-handed sword, wreathed in hellfire, was known as a "Hellblade," the standard weapon of every Bloodletter.
"AH!"
A shrill scream rang out. Frank instinctively looked toward the sound. What he saw made his eyes turn red with grief. Roy had not been so lucky. While unconscious, he had been eviscerated by another Bloodletter's claws. The intense pain had jolted him awake, forcing a howl of agony from his lungs. The wretched soldier was held aloft; his blood and organs dripped directly into the Bloodletter's open gullet. Not yet satisfied, the brutal daemon stuck its long tongue into the massive open wound to stir it around. Once it had finished feeding, it would sever the head as an offering to the Blood God.
Nothing was wasted. Khornate Bloodletters were the most numerous infantry in the Legion.
"You damned animal!" He wanted those two Bloodletters dead!
Frank spotted his dirt-covered lasgun nearby. He tried to lunge for it to counterattack. However, the thick, sweet scent of blood in the air sent the Bloodletter in front of him into a frenzy. Just as Frank's hand touched the rifle, a sharp flash glinted. The scorched earth was instantly stained red by a blossoming flower of blood.
The Bloodletter had used its Hellblade to sever Frank's left arm along with part of his torso. Groaning in agony, Frank clutched his wound and slumped on the ground, blood spraying like a fountain.
"Damn it..." Through waves of pain, Frank felt himself being hoisted up by the Bloodletter.
Determined to stay conscious, he gritted his teeth and reached into his coat with his remaining right hand, trying to pull a grenade. He planned to drop it down the beast's throat when it opened its mouth.
But then, something unexpected happened!
Splat!
A jet of pitch-black liquid sprayed across Frank's face. The bitter, brassy-tasting fluid flowed into his mouth. He fell to the ground alongside the now-headless Bloodletter. Because of this, Frank saw the true "daemon-slayer," but the sight only increased his shock.
The one who had ripped the Bloodletter's head clean off its shoulders was another unit from Khorne's own Chaos Legion!
Strictly speaking, it was "friendly fire." In their home realm, the Realm of Khorne, daemons devouring one another was common, but it was a rare occurrence during a Legion invasion. Chaos Legions usually maintained strict discipline, with each unit performing its specific duty.
"Emperor above... I was just saved by a Flesh Hound!"
Frank couldn't believe his eyes. He assumed his mind had snapped before death; he would have sooner believed a Grot had knocked out a Space Marine with one punch.
This wolf-like monster was larger than a Rhino beast, covered in crimson scales. It had fangs as thick as a human palm. As it snarled, a frill like that of a frilled lizard fanned out around its neck. It wore a brass spiked collar similar to the armor of the Bloodthirster.
This Flesh Hound was special—a Gore Hound, a veteran that stood at the top of the pack's hierarchy. They were larger, more brutal, and possessed terrifying attack power. However, this "most loyal servant of the Blood God" seemed to have questionable loyalty.
There were three deep claw marks slashed across the Khorne symbol on its thick brass collar. There was no act more sacrilegious; it was enough to drive any follower of Khorne into a murderous rage.
The Gore Hound held the Bloodletter's head in its mouth, but a human-like expression of disgust and loathing appeared on its face. It immediately spat the disgusting thing out.
The other Bloodletter, which was still "dining," noticed the anomaly. It tossed Roy's mangled corpse aside without even taking the head for the Blood God—an indication of its extreme fury. It raised its flaming Hellblade and charged the Flesh Hound with a roar.
Facing the aggressive Bloodletter, the Flesh Hound snorted dismissively. It simply raised a shimmering, sharp claw to parry the downward swing of the Hellblade.
Clang!
With a crisp metallic ring, the Hellblade and the claws collided, throwing off a shower of sparks. The Flesh Hound twisted its paw, trapping the Hellblade between three claws. The Bloodletter only had one weapon, but the Flesh Hound had four limbs equipped with massive claws to tear enemies apart. Without hesitation, its other paw lunged forward, piercing the Bloodletter's unprotected chest.
This Flesh Hound was quite "heartfelt," literally reaching into the Bloodletter's chest upon their first meeting.
From start to finish, the kill had taken less than fifteen seconds. Stepping on the Bloodletter's chest, the Flesh Hound retracted its claws. It didn't feast on its "trophy" but instead let out a low, rasping shriek. The four corpses nearby suddenly erupted into crimson flames; the terrifying heat reduced them to ash in moments.
Having finished, the Flesh Hound stretched lazily, preparing to head to the next battlefield. But then, it suddenly sensed a lethal threat. Its frill stood on end. It looked toward the final fortress of the Imperial Guard. During the day, it had been a steel bastion of powerful cannons and tanks; by dusk, it was a cratered ruin of scrap and severed limbs.
The human army had been defeated. The fate of the planet was sealed.
Yet, the Flesh Hound felt a deadly threat emanating from there—a sensation like a needle pricking its skin. Suddenly realizing something, the hound panicked and sprinted away from the battlefield at full speed.
"Go to hell, daemons!"
Inside the command center of the fortress, the cold-faced Planetary Governor watched the daemons burst through the walls. Without hesitation, he entered the final keys for the base's self-destruct sequence.
"The Emperor is with us."
BOOM!
A brilliant, pure golden fireball erupted over the Thorn Garden plains. The cold, ruthless "Consuming Flame" blanketed everything within a three-thousand-kilometer radius. From space, it looked as spectacular as a sun falling onto the land.
[Simulation Ended]
[Settlement Beginning: Warhammer 40k World]
[Far East Galaxy: ASH-3 (Destroyed)]
[Difficulty: LV. 10 (Hard)]
[Faction: Khorne (Chaos)]
[Kills: Flesh Hounds: 20, Khornate Bloodletters: 18, Bloodcrushers: ...]
[Overall Performance: A (Excellent)]
[Rewards settled. Automatically moved to backpack, please claim in a timely manner.]
[Mind transmission in progress... 10%... 30%... 70%... 100%... Consciousness return complete!]
In an ordinary room, warm sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting mottled patterns on the floor—a sign of good weather. A handsome young man lying on the bed snapped his eyes open. Only after seeing the familiar ceiling did his heavy panting gradually slow down.
"I'm back?"
Suddenly remembering something, the boy's face turned pale. Ignoring everything else, he covered his mouth and bolted from the room. Soon, the sound of vomiting came from the bathroom.
In a photo frame on the desk, a girl with bright eyes and white teeth seemed to be smiling at it all.