Author Notes:
Welp, this GSS chapter is out at last. Hopefully, this chapter is worth the wait as once again, I am wrestling with moving house business. In fact, I will continue to squeeze lemonade out of the lemons life has given to me for some time...
Now, for a little bit of an irl update. Yes, I have found a new home for Mom and I. Yes, we will go sign the two-year house renting contract next week.
And no, the new house doesn't have furniture.
So yes, we have to procure a lot of things ourselves, which leads to an expected issue of me coming up around 350 USD short. I need at least half of that number if I am to get one foldable mattress for my Mom, as I really can't have her sleep on the floor.
To safeguard my Mom's physical health, I hope that I can garner additional support from readers who are still indecisive on joining my Patreon. If you can, please visit my Patreon page, check out the benefits, and subscribe to a Tier of your choosing. Any bit will help a lot in making sure my Mom will be able to sleep better at night.
Income goal 0/350 USD.
Regardless, my sincere thank you to all of you, my funny, loyal readers. And please, have a great week!
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"Emperor prot-!" The words are left unfinished because the Cadian Veteran who said them exploded into a gory mess. A bolt round, imbued with the corroding energy of the Warp, has punctured clean through the thick pillar the Veteran was hiding behind, thus bringing upon him his inelegant demise.
The sudden appearance of the most heinous traitors of man, Chaos Marines, on the battlefield brings not a bout of stunned silence, but an intensification of the war tempo. The distressed cultists that have been, until very recently, unable to break through the Cadians' stubborn resistance are reenergized with the prospect of fighting in the name of the Chaos Marines that they see as Lords. The heretics are emboldened to fight harder and more desperately to earn the favor of their sorcerous Lords. On the other side, the Cadians too are forced to retaliate even more fiercely, burning through their resupplied weapon inventory at a maddening pace to keep the foul zealots at bay.
"Foul traitors! Die in the name of the Emperor!" The Priest again and again swings his Eviscerator, cutting down one blithering cultist after another.
Even when the Cadians' defense line is suppressed and under attack from countless las bolts and stub rounds, the Priest remains standing, endlessly chanting the scripture of the God Emperor aloud. The Priest's presence, tall, unyielding among the thralls of Chaos, has maintained the precious spark of resistance that prevents the total collapse of the Cadian perimeter. However, his immaculate visage on the battlefield is no doubt a giant target for the Chaos Marines supervising the cultists in the enemy's backline.
The Power Armors of these Chaos Marines are blue and brass in color, with decorations that harken back to the visage of their Lord of Changes and symbolism not dissimilar to that of Ancient Egypt. All signs thus far point to these Chaos Marines hailing from the divergent Thousand Sons Legion of old. To be more specific, these Chaos Marines consist of an Aspiring Sorcerer and three Rubrik Marines. While the latter are akin to that of war golems with a near-mindless semblance of sapiency, the former is the mastermind of the recent upheaval that disrupted the Cadian's steadiness. And this Sorcerer ain't taking too kindly to the fact that the Cadians remain unbroken even with his appearance.
Ever since the initial few shots of bolt rounds that may or may not have killed some unfortunate Cadians, the Chaos Marines of the Thousand Sons have been content with not making any more overt attempts at aggression. But why is that the case? Surely the Sorcerer and the Rubrik Marines aren't afraid of some mere mortals? Well, their inactiveness stems from a largely more pragmatic concern:
The Chaos Marines don't have much ammo to waste on a bunch of Cadian fodder.
In fact, each Rubrik Marine only carries a single magazine, the one already loaded in their Bolt Rifle, and has no spare reload. Even the Sorcerer himself, other than the bladed staff in his left hand that also acts as a casting assistance device, only has a Bolt Pistol with two magazines in total. One could even say this team of four Chaos Marines is quite destitute in their face and live to tell the tale, just because the Aspiring Sorcerer really doesn't have the leeway for a drawn-out confrontation. It's why the Sorcerer has done no more than inspire the cultists, using up their lives to save precious energy and even more precious munitions.
As for why they're suddenly so downtrodden of a Chaos warband... Their stockpile of Astartes-grade weapons was placed aboard and around the Stormbird that once carried them stealthily onto Installation 08. That same Stormbird eventually disappeared along with all of its hard-earned ordinances. So yes, this particular Aspiring Sorcerer intends to take it easy for a moment. But if the Priest intends to make this impossible...
Then so be it.
From the depths of his corrupted soul, the Aspiring Sorcerer chants a beguiling, ancient verse, and with it, the tip of his staff starts shining a vile, iridescent glow as it gathers transformative energy. The Priest, still trapped in the haze of his zeal for the Emperor and the deadly dance that executes all the cultists around him, is oblivious to the threat at the far side of his vision. However, that doesn't mean there's no other backing him up.
From my position on the upper floor, I can pinpoint the Aspiring Sorcerer easily enough behind the rows of cultists, especially when he starts spell casting. Sensing the intent behind his action, I quickly bark, my voice subtly enhanced by Honkai energy to travel into the ears of all Cadians.
"Missile! Evade!"
The warning comes not a moment too soon before the Sorcerer levels his staff in the direction of the fighting Priest and his men on the ground level. A blink later, a crackling ball of Warp energy, part fireball, part electrifying, is launched through the air. Midair, bursts of blue lightning strike outward at any random thing on its way, vaporizing inert constructs or turning hapless cultists into mishappen form of themselves. As the corruptive energy sphere reaches the halfway point, the Cadian veterans react and disperse into cover, bracing themselves for an attack no mortal can withstand. The Priest, willing to test his mettle in the name of the God Emperor as he is, is tackled into the security by a nearby Cadian.
Earlier, I wasn't willing to risk it aggroing the Chaos Marines because they had been mostly grandstanding. But now? I deem intercepting a sure-kill AoE blast will be a more imperative task, then I will go on to be a thorn in their eyes, literally.
I align my sight picture with the zooming energy sphere. With only a fraction of a second of time to intercept, I aim and fire a las shot that hits the sphere dead center. Although the Warp sphere seems to be a spell that forces an ever-changing status on the thing around it, it's nonetheless powered by a magical framework that is very much intentionally designed to accommodate its desired effects. That fine balance can be easily disrupted by an empowered las shot, if one can track and intercept the sphere in time, which is easier said than done. But I have handled worse, so...
BAM
Exploding midair after being hit, the Warp sphere then showers the cultists with constant bolts of transformative energy. Some are lucky enough to turn to ash instantly when the bolts strike them. Others take glancing blows from the bolts, escaping immediate deaths but soon find themselves either growing or losing limbs willy-nilly, their heads malformed into things that are neither avian nor humanoid. Either way, a major gap now forms in the cultists' ranks, cleared by the very spell that was intended for the Priest and his men. This effectively puts the heretics' offensive into a dead stop as they're still reeling from the sights of their fellow turncoats losing the last bit of right to call themselves human beings.
They know the Lord of Changes encourages, well, changes, but isn't tentacle humans a bit much?
Even the Aspiring Sorcerer looks at the carnage that his spell has brought and the staff in his hand in visible confusion. Though detonated above the wrong recipients, the Aspiring Sorcerer truly doesn't think something the size of an Astartes Frag Grenade will cause nearly a hundred casualties in a dispersed radius. He also didn't put too much Warp energy into the spell in the first place, so what's with the premature and serious explosion that rivaled a successfully detonated spell?
For once in a long while, this Aspiring Sorcerer of the Thousand Sons feels the threads of curiosity pulling at him again. Excited as the prospect of uncovering a new facsimile of an age-old spell, the Sorcerer would have devoted all of his brainpower to deconstructing what just happened if not for my personal intervention.
An invisible to the naked eyes las shot from my Long-las strikes the visor of the Aspiring Sorcerer, knocking his helmeted head backward slightly. However, unlike past examples, the Aspiring Sorcerer doesn't fall down limply, but instead leverages a visor glare right where I am hiding.
Gosh, I hate how these guys got that bird fucker's defensive buff.
"Time to skedaddle!" I shout to Weiss and my temporary spotter, Snippar.
The three of us swiftly throw our bodies backward and away from the wall, keeping ourselves as low to the floor and as far away from the opening we used as possible. Our action has been timely enough, as a moment later, multiple bolt rounds of sorcerous origin easily punch clean through the wall and the rubble mounds we used for cover, going as far as hitting the structural wall behind us with crackling fury. As the onslaught of a pissed-off Chaos Marine Fireteam continues, and I can vaguely hear Johnson's and Scorpin's cries of concern from below, I suddenly find the urge to say.
"Hahaha~!" I laugh in the face of danger as dust and pebbles fall right on top of our prone bodies. "This is just like that Iron Revenant spar all over again."
Weiss and Snippar give me a look as if asking why the hell can I still laugh cheerily, with Weiss adding in exasperation.
"You and I remember that spar very differently!"
Our momentary banter ends when the Bolt Rifle also stops barking. The other may not see it, but by using Honkai energy manipulation, I can see that the Aspiring Sorcerer has directly vacated the premise of the battlefield with two of his Rubrik Marines via teleportation. And I have checked, there's no energy fluctuation that points toward the Sorcerer teleporting in the middle of our lines.
This leaves only one Rubrik Marine that has received its brethren's Bolt Rifle Magazines. That last Chaos Marine then advances towards our frontline with all the corrupted aura of an Astartes, thus forcing the cultists into yet another surge of attack.
Still, for a Sorcerer to get the heck out of dodge so quickly even after I taunted him... Not that I am complaining, but don't you have any backbone, Marine?
[Emperor of Man: ... Let's just say that each individual has their own priorities.]
The Emperor's sudden interjection means that She must know something, but for the life of me, I can't think of the reason for the Aspiring Sorcerer's swift getaway. It won't be until much later that I learn that the Aspiring Sorcerer ditched this battle because he had a scholarly enlightenment and needed to get it out of the way.
As the gunfire re-intensifies below, I pat away the dust that fell onto my Long-las' scope before saying.
"Come on. The other still needs us."
Weiss and Snippar nod, and together, we pick a new place to set up our sniper's nest. Scanning the enemy's ranks, I ask aloud.
"Still no luck with Vox, Weiss?"
My white-haired partner shakes her head in annoyance. "Still garbled up. At this rate, we will have to make another supply run if we're to engage those big guys."
Snippar interjects from the side with his magnoculars brought up to his eyes.
"Or perform a tactical retreat. I think the moment we see Chaos Marines, we're greenlit to ditch this OP and high-tail outta here with the survivors, loose them in the narrow tunnels. Our lucky break was that those big guys have mostly disappeared, with only one slowly advancing menacingly..."
"Yeah, well, Johnson will be the one to give that other if he judges it untenable. The Sarge knows what we're capable of." I reply. "Snippar, I need you to eyeball that Marine, but don't look too closely at him, and warn me if he starts firing up the Bolt Rifle."
"Copy."
I then shout for the people below to hear.
"John! Scorpin! Prep your launchers and aim them at the Chaos Marine! Prioritizing the destruction of his weapon if possible! I will handle the incoming suppression fire for you!" The 40 mm and 57 mm Grenade Launchers are needed because I need to save my Long-las for other targets that can still kill my allies.
Even if the grenades won't be able to destroy a Rubrik Marine, too many of them exploding around him will still wreck the Chaos Bolt Rifle in his hands. That thing ain't built to last punishments like an Astartes.
"You got it, Ein!" Johnson shouts in reply.
Good. Now to sweep the field of those nasty cultists with Heavy Stubbers and whatever else.
Let's try to break the record of 'mission kills in a minute', shall we?