Ficool

Chapter 3 - 3

Year 669.M30

Terra

Battle of Mount Ararat

Not long after the massacre began, many of the Thunder Warriors were cut down easily by the combined fire of the First Legion and the Custodes. But soon after, they managed to regain their footing and charged into the defensive line, launching into brutal close combat at once.

Bill aimed his bolt gun at the Thunder Warriors rushing toward him and pulled the trigger with precise shots to the head. The .75-caliber shells easily punched through the helmets of the Thunder Warriors, but because there were so many of them, they kept pushing closer to the firing line despite the heavy losses.

"Argh!"

A short cry of pain rang out when a blast from some kind of energy weapon Bill did not recognize struck the First Legion warrior beside him and turned him to dust. Bill's breathing quickened and his eyes widened, but he forced himself not to give in to panic. He kept his weapon trained on the Thunder Warriors and continued firing.

It was not that simple, however. Some of the Thunder Warriors, armed with firearms of their own, returned fire and inflicted heavy losses on the First Legion as well.

Bill gritted his teeth at the sight before him. The blood and the smell drifting into his nose only made his hunger worse. Saliva began to gather in his mouth, but he forced himself to endure and focus on the battle in front of him.

Then, before long, the melee began as the Thunder Warriors closed the distance.

The Thunder Warriors, standing over 2.6 meters tall, clashed at close range with Space Marines who stood around 2.2 meters tall. The result was a complete rout for the Space Marines. The Thunder Warriors clearly outmatched them in both strength and speed. Many First Legion warriors were sent flying by bare fists, their armor shattered. Some were crushed under stamped-down boots, and many could not fight effectively in close combat at all. The swings of the Thunder Warriors' blades disrupted the First Legion's rhythm and defenses before they were cut down with ease.

Even the Custodes, who in Bill's eyes were superior to the Thunder Warriors, were terrifying warriors in golden armor. They were faster, larger, and stronger, and their skill in combat was so great that even he could barely follow their movements. Yet because of the Thunder Warriors' numbers and their tendency to swarm opponents, some Custodes were also brought down in the fighting.

Bill stopped looking in other directions and turned back to the battle ahead. Less than fifty meters away, dozens of Thunder Warriors were charging toward him with their weapons raised, shouting with fierce rage.

Bill ignored the scene before him and immediately fired at the nearest Thunder Warrior. The body fell into the sand and debris-covered ground, but the rest surged forward too quickly for him to shoot them all down, even with the First Legion warriors beside him.

In the blink of an eye, they were already upon him.

Bill raised his weapon and fired one-handed while his left hand moved toward the scabbard of his combat knife, preparing for close combat even though he knew how dangerous the enemy in front of him was. But now he could feel his urge beginning to overpower his reason. He wanted blood... damn it, he had to hold on a little longer.

Bill thought to himself as he fired one-handed at a Thunder Warrior.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Click!

Three rounds struck the Thunder Warrior's chest armor before the magazine ran dry. Only one of them managed to penetrate and cause damage, but it was not enough to kill it outright. The wounded Thunder Warrior only became more savage.

Bill did not have time to reload. He dropped the bolt gun and did the most unreasonable and foolish thing he could think of at that moment.

He threw the bolt gun aside, lowered his body, and charged the Thunder Warrior while drawing his combat knife. His only target was the open area around the warrior's face—the only weak point he could find.

In his mind, fighting these berserk warriors was terrible. Their armor was fairly thick, and with only a combat knife on hand, he would not be able to do much damage.

Whoosh!

Bill dodged an attack from a chain sword that could have split him in two and drove his combat knife into the joint of the enemy's knee armor. The blade pierced the weakest point in the armor with ease. While dodging and fighting at the same time, he felt his fangs growing longer and the instinctive thirst and violence rising even further.

Eric rolled away before the Thunder Warrior could kill him, and then he caught sight of a weapon lying on the ground near the corpse of a First Legion warrior. It was something similar to a chain sword, though he was not sure exactly what it was.

At this point, he did not care anymore.

Bill ran away from the melee, leaving the Thunder Warrior momentarily stunned.

He sprinted through a battle that was growing increasingly chaotic. Space Marines and Thunder Warriors were locked together in violent combat all around him. Bloodshed erupted everywhere near where he stood. Some Thunder Warriors stood over piles of First Legion corpses, while others were being dealt with easily by the First Legion. Bill slid across the ground and grabbed the blade before rising and twisting away from the attack of another Thunder Warrior, one that had begun to lose its mind and was wielding a gun as a club rather than firing it. This Thunder Warrior had already beaten several First Legion warriors to death with it in a single strike.

But suddenly, with impossible speed, a fist slammed directly into his chest armor and sent him flying backward several meters.

His armor was dented and caved in by the blow. Bill felt as though his ribs might have broken, the air was driven from his lungs, and blood spilled from his mouth. He struggled to rise, and then the feeling of hunger intensified even further when he tasted his own blood. Everything before him began to turn red.

Bill lifted his trembling hand and removed his helmet, revealing the handsome face typical of the Ninth Legion and the short-cropped hair that suited him perfectly, along with his bright blue eyes. He took a deep breath, pulling in the scent of blood and gunpowder. Even though the pollution in the area was severe, it did not affect Space Marines or Thunder Warriors much.

He gave a small laugh, and then his remaining reason began to slip away, replaced by the madness of a beast set free. He roared loudly and charged the Thunder Warrior without hesitation. At that point, only a few things remained in his mind: kill, drink blood, and do whatever he could to ease his thirst.

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"Is it over?" Bill said softly.

Everything was over now. The Thunder Warriors lay dead all across the battlefield, and so did many Space Marines. Bill was kneeling beside the corpse of the Thunder Warrior he had fought.

The body was mangled as though some beast had torn into it and eaten part of it. Ribs were exposed, and the armor had been ripped apart. Bill, still kneeling beside the corpse, had blood on his hands and armor, as well as on his face, hair, and mouth. The taste of flesh still stuck between his teeth. He looked around again and saw several First Legion warriors aiming their weapons at him.

"You are abnormal... come with us now. You will be brought back to base and investigated," one of the First Legion warriors said warily.

Bill slowly stood up. His power armor was covered in scratches and dents, as though it had been struck repeatedly. He could not withstand the hunger and thirst that clung to him... damn it, why had he not died when he was taken?

"All right," he replied in a low voice, then walked after the other Space Marines, casting one last look at the blood-soaked battlefield. The battlefield was now filled with the corpses of Thunder Warriors, the augmented humans who had been used before them... augmented humans who seemed to have had defects... and Apothecaries who were doing something to the bodies of the First Legion Space Marines.

As he walked, many thoughts passed through his mind, including the meaning of his existence. Why was he alive? What was he living for?... That was the question he had been asking himself ever since he woke up again in this future age.

Back when he had lived among the cannibal tribes, he had first thought that he wanted to make everything better, to improve life for the people here, to make this world more livable. But now? Now he had become an augmented human, stronger than before, and burdened with hunger and thirst.

Perhaps he existed only for battle.

A battle in which he did not know when, or whether, he would ever find rest.

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