Leticia held Terrania's hand as they walked through the white ruins.
Their footsteps were silent, leaving only two rows of shallow prints on the oasis of green grass they had created, which did not belong in this world of death.
The sound of gunfire and roars in the distance grew clearer.
The sounds were filled with steel-like perseverance, mixed with a despair that was nearing its limit.
They reached the edge of a completely destroyed plaza, hiding behind a broken, magnificent pillar that stretched almost to the horizon.
The scene before her caused Leticia's pupils to constrict slightly.
In the center of the plaza, five warriors clad in grey-white power armor formed a desperate defensive circle, their backs against a collapsed statue of a hero.
Death Guard.
Their armor was covered in bullet marks and scorched burns, the white paint obscured by dust and dried blood, making them look utterly disheveled.
Yet their stances remained as immovable as rock, and every roar of the Bolters in their hands was precise and lethal.
Surrounding them were over twenty warriors clad in ornate purple armor.
Emperor's Children.
Unsettling, twisted, and lewd symbols were beginning to appear on their armor.
Their movements were elegant yet cruel, their weapons spewing lethal energy, with expressions of mockery and enjoyment of their prey's dying struggle on their faces.
This was a lopsided siege.
The Death Guard were running low on ammunition; one warrior's left arm had been melted off by energy weapons, forcing him to operate his Bolter with one hand, relying on his shoulder armor for support.
Their captain, a particularly hulking warrior, had a hideous gash on his chest plate, and ominous arcs of electricity flickered between his breaths.
He was nearing his limit.
"Swear by the resilience of Barbarus!" the captain roared hoarsely, his voice dull and distorted through his broken loudspeaker. "We are the sons of Mortarion! We never retreat!"
An ear-piercing shriek, capable of tearing the soul apart, answered him.
An Emperor's Children warrior raised a bizarre sonic weapon, and an invisible, distorted wave of sound slammed into the Death Guard captain's helmet.
Clang!
The sturdy ceramite helmet was instantly covered in spiderweb-like cracks.
The captain's tall frame jolted violently, and he froze in place.
Blood poured uncontrollably from the gaps in his helmet and the seals around his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.
He was finished.
The surrounding Emperor's Children let out joyful, morbid laughter.
They raised their weapons, preparing to tear the stubborn captain, along with his ridiculous resilience, into pieces.
Behind Leticia, Terrania's body trembled slightly with fear, her small hand gripping Leticia's sleeve.
Leticia did not look back.
She simply watched the scene about to unfold, her black eyes, which seemed capable of swallowing light, devoid of any ripples.
Then, she slowly raised her right hand.
No words or actions were needed.
Her will transformed into a command.
Deep in her soul, the crimson rune representing glory, courage, and pure fighting spirit suddenly flared to life.
[Battle Intent].
A crimson-gold halo, invisible to mortal eyes yet truly existent and filled with an aura of guardianship and glory, silently and instantly enveloped the five Death Guard trapped in the center of the plaza, with Leticia as its center.
Just an instant before the Emperor's Children's lethal attack was about to land.
The Death Guard captain, who should have been bleeding from his seven orifices with his consciousness collapsing, suddenly lifted his head.
His vision, blurred by excruciating pain and shock, became clearer than ever before in an instant.
The heart-rending pain vanished.
The bone-deep exhaustion was swept away.
A warm, powerful surge of infinite strength—as if bestowed personally by their Gene-Father Mortarion himself—erupted from the deepest part of his soul, rushing through his limbs and bones.
His muscles cheered, and his bones sang.
His combat instincts and his honed fighting techniques were elevated to an inconceivable, brand-new realm that transcended his own limits.
This was not the chaotic fury of the Warp, nor was it a bloodthirsty desire.
This was a pure, sacred, supreme Battle Intent for protection.
"For the Emperor!!!"
An earth-shattering roar erupted from the captain's throat.
He moved.
His movements were no longer heavy; instead, they were as swift as a grey-white lightning bolt.
The Bolter in his hand spat out flames of vengeance with impossible speed.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Every bolt shell accurately and brutally drilled into the observation port of an Emperor's Children warrior's faceplate.
Three arrogant heads exploded into three magnificent flowers of blood in mid-air.
This sudden turn of events left all the Emperor's Children stunned.
The mockery on their faces froze into pure bewilderment.
It was this momentary hesitation.
The scythe of death swung down.
It was not just the captain.
The other four Death Guard erupted with the same astonishing power at the same moment.
The warrior with the severed arm held his heavy Bolter with one hand, his aim as steady as if it were welded to a base, and an enemy fell with every single shot.
They were no longer defending.
They had become five efficient and cold war machines born only for slaughter.
They proactively charged out of that small defensive circle, like five arrows released from the string, slamming into the loose and arrogant formation of the Emperor's Children.
The roar of Chainswords replaced the thunder of Bolters.
One Death Guard met the slashes of three power swords head-on, not dodging or evading, allowing the lethal blades to spark against his power armor.
He used his own body to tank all the attacks.
Then, the Chainsword in his hand, at an extremely tricky angle, slashed from bottom to top, cleaving the three enemies before him—along with their weapons—into six twitching lumps of flesh.
This was a massacre.
A one-sided massacre of five against twenty.
The elegant sword skills the Emperor's Children prided themselves on appeared so fragile and ridiculous before the Death Guard's wide-open, violence-steeped, pragmatic attacks.
Their screams and the looks of horror and confusion in their eyes before they died became the only embellishment in this battle.
Less than a minute.
The battle was over.
In the center of the plaza, only the five grey-white giants remained, standing silently.
Beneath their feet lay twenty dismembered purple corpses.
The crimson-gold halo that had enveloped them slowly dissipated.
The extreme power receded like a tide.
In its place came an even deeper exhaustion and a tremendous, bewildered sense of survival.
The five Death Guard could no longer hold themselves up, falling to their knees one after another with heavy thuds.
They gasped for air, looking at the blood-dripping Chainswords in their hands and the carnage on the ground, their eyes filled with incomprehensible shock.
What just happened?
That power... was it a blessing from the Emperor?
Just as their hearts were stirred, a slight, almost imperceptible sound of footsteps came from the edge of the plaza.
They abruptly looked up, gripping their weapons tightly, looking over with vigilance.
Then, they saw.
They saw a miraculous, unforgettable scene.
Upon that pale ruin filled with death and despair.
A young girl in a simple dress, with hair like a waterfall, was leading a little blonde girl by the hand, walking toward them step by step.
She walked slowly, but with every step she took, the white bone dust beneath her feet miraculously faded away.
In its place, fresh, tender green grass sprouted from the earth.
She was like a Spring Goddess walking through a kingdom of death.
Behind her, she left a trail of vibrant, emerald green.
In the air, the thick scent of death was replaced by a fresh, intoxicating fragrance.
She walked up to them and stood still.
There was no expression on that face, which was beautiful enough to make the stars dim.
Those deep, pitch-black eyes scanned each of them calmly, sweeping over the hideous wounds on their bodies.
The Death Guard captain struggled, wanting to stand up and give a standard military salute.
But the fatal wound on his chest made even breathing extremely difficult.
He knew he was dying.
That burst of power just now had exhausted all his life force.
Just then.
Leticia reached out her hand.
In her palm, a sphere of soft, vibrant emerald-green light, filled with Vitality, rotated quietly.
She gently pressed that ball of light onto the shattered chest plate of the Death Guard captain.
Sizzle—
It was as if the warm sun of spring had melted ice and snow that had not thawed for ten thousand years.
A gentle, overwhelming warm current surged into the captain's body.
He watched with his own eyes as the hideous, fatal wound on his chest healed at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Broken ribs reconnected, damaged organs regenerated rapidly, and even the damaged power armor slowly repaired and mended under the nourishment of the green light, eventually becoming as good as new.
All pain vanished.
In its place was an unprecedented, powerful sense of comfort.
It was not just him.
That green light transformed into countless points of light, flying toward the other four warriors.
The warrior with the severed arm watched in disbelief as a brand-new arm, made of flesh, blood, and nerves, rapidly grew from his empty shoulder.
A miracle.
An irrefutable scene that could only be described as a miracle.
The five resilient sons of Mortarion, who had seen enough life, death, and cruelty, were completely speechless at this moment.
They knelt there, looking up at the god-like girl before them, their eyes filled only with the purest, most fanatical awe.
Leticia withdrew her hand, and the emerald-green light slowly dissipated.
She looked at the fully recovered, hulking Death Guard captain before her, waiting calmly.
The captain slowly, stiffly stood up.
He looked at his chest plate, which was as good as new, felt the brand-new, surging power within him, and then looked at Leticia's calm, almost indifferent, god-like face.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found his throat too dry to make a sound.
Finally, using all his strength, he knelt on one knee, lowering that stubborn, Death Guard head that had never bowed to anyone.
In a trembling voice filled with supreme awe, he asked the question that lingered in everyone's heart.
"In the name of the Emperor..."
"Who... exactly are you?"
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