Harkismond stood like an immovable mountain, completely blocking the only entrance. His tower shield had long since deformed, and the heavy club in his hand was stained crimson with blood. Just as he smashed two rebels attempting to force their way in into a pulp, a deafening roar echoed from the depths of the corridor—a rebel Chimera APC had opened fire with its main gun, aiming directly at the doorway.
Boom!
Accompanied by the ear-grating screech of tearing metal, a high-explosive armor-piercing shell punched straight through Harkismond's thick carapace armor. Yet, the shell did not overpenetrate. Instead, carrying immense kinetic energy, it lodged itself deep within the Ogryn's broad stomach—a mass of dense fat and thick muscle—as its fuse let out a sizzling burn.
"Ugh—" Harkismond staggered a step. He looked down at the smoking chunk of iron in his belly, then glanced back at his teammates.
Letting out an earth-shattering roar, he did not retreat. Instead, braving the shell that could detonate at any second inside him, he charged back into the enemy ranks like a rampaging rhino. Using the last of his strength, he swung his shield and fists, crushing every enemy who dared attempt to cross his line. He fought until his body stiffened into a statuesque pose, never to fall, completely sealing the doorway with his corpse.
"Harkismond!" Kaelen shouted, his eyes tearing at the seams.
Watching the grim sacrifice at the entrance, the Chaos Sorcerer sneered, "What a foolish sacrifice, but it changes nothing. As long as I am here, as long as the ritual circle remains—"
"You talk too much!" Kaelen roared, activating his power armor's servo-overload mode and throwing himself recklessly at the sorcerer. He knew he was no match for the psyker, but he had to buy time.
The sorcerer prepared to cast a spell to swat this defiant Space Marine aside, but suddenly felt a strange disturbance. He snapped his head around, looking toward a corner of the floor.
There, the mortal who should have been waiting for death with a shattered spine was gripping the stone cracks in the floor with both hands. Dragging his completely numbed lower body, he was crawling toward the edge of the ritual circle inch by inch.
Just... just a little closer to that spot—
"You said... this ritual is extremely precise... and can't afford... a single mistake—" Slacker panted heavily, staring at the swirling, purple-black ring of light.
The sorcerer's expression changed instantly: "Stop! You maggot! What do you think you're doing?!"
He raised his staff to execute the mortal, but in the next split second, a pair of armored hands locked tightly around his waist.
It was Kaelen!
Though the battle-hardened veteran did not understand the principles of warp sorcery, he understood Slacker's words and saw his comrade's intent. He abandoned all defense, using every ounce of his strength to lock the Chaos Sorcerer in a death grip, letting the psychic lightning crackle and burn through his armor and flesh.
"Watch him, heretic! Watch how we ruin your masterpiece!" Kaelen laughed maniacally beneath his helmet.
"No!! Let go of me!!" The Chaos Sorcerer screamed in terror, struggling desperately to break free.
Slacker crawled to the edge of the ritual circle. Looking at the surging warp energy, a grim yet triumphant smile tugged at the edge of his mouth.
"Since your math is so great... let's see you solve this equation when you add a sixty-kilogram variable like me into it!"
Pushing off the ground with both hands, he used the final spark of life in his body to fling his mangled torso forward like a fish leaping from water, throwing himself violently into the center of the precisely operating ritual circle!
Hum—!
The moment mortal flesh made contact with the core of the ritual, the smoothly flowing currents of energy instantly seized. Immediately after, the perfectly engineered balance was shattered. The warp energy underwent a violent rejection reaction due to this sudden "impurity."
"No—!!!"
Amidst the desperate shriek of the Chaos Sorcerer, the glow of the ritual circle instantly turned from purple-black to a blinding, sickly white.
Boom!!!
A cataclysmic psychic explosion erupted with the monastery at its center, instantly swallowing the entangled Kaelen and the sorcerer, along with the silhouette of the mortal, reducing all the malice and sacrifice within to absolute ash.
The mushroom cloud rising from the monastery and the earth-shattering detonation announced the success of the infiltration operation.
Meanwhile, on the main frontal battlefield, the fighting had drawn to a close—or more accurately, a one-sided slaughter was nearing its end.
Across the smoke-shrouded trenches, nearly every Astartes of the Chaos warband had met their demise. The ground was littered with the wreckage of power armor and mutated limbs blown to pieces.
At this moment, only a warband leader clad in heavy Terminator power armor still stood in the center of the battlefield.
However, his current situation could only be described as utter despair.
The chainsword in the Chaos Champion's hand had a chipped, rolled edge, his bolter had long run dry, and his heavy Terminator armor was covered in dents and gore while its internal servo-muscles groaned under the strain. He panted heavily, every breath scraping like a blacksmith's bellows.
And surrounding him was a wall.
Countless Ogryns surrounded him layers deep. These brute giants held massive iron clubs, staring at him like a piece of rare prize game, greedy drool pooling at the corners of their mouths.
No one could comprehend the absolute mental breakdown and despair the warband leader felt.
He and hundreds of his warband subordinates had fought a bloody battle here for a whole day! A whole day! He had swung his claws and torn apart countless enemies, his killing efficiency high enough to earn a nod of approval from any follower of Khorne.
But... he hadn't seen the shadow of a single proper Astral Claw!
It was all goddamned Ogryns!
Kill one, and two more charged forward; kill two, and a whole pack swarmed in. It was like a master swordsman preparing for a legendary duel at the peak of the Forbidden City, only for the opponent to dump ten thousand rampaging wild boars on him instead.
This humiliation of being worn down like mere expendable chaff was harder for him to accept than death itself.
"HURON!!!"
The Terminator threw his head back and let out a grief-stricken, furious roar, his voice echoing across the battlefield through his helmet's vox-amplifier.
"I know you're watching! You shameless coward! If you have even a shred of Astartes honor left, come out and face me in single combat! What kind of warrior hides behind these abhuman filth?!"
The only response he received was the simple huffing of the Ogryns and the wind blowing in from the distance.
On the other side of the battlefield, Lufgt Huron watched the Chaos Terminator making his final stand within the sea of Ogryns via the feed transmitted by a servo-skull. Listening to that pathetic, beaten-dog wailing, Huron's shoulders began to shake.
"Heh... hehehehe..."
The low chuckle gradually grew louder, finally evolving into unbridled, open laughter.
"Hehehehe... Hahahahaha!"
Yet in the next second, the arrogant laughter stopped abruptly, as if cut by a knife.
"Talking about Astartes honor with traitors? What a joke." He waved his hand as if shooing a fly, sending the final order into the comms channel. "Ogryns, stop standing around. Pile on in! Tear him apart!"