Chapter 3: Slaughter in the alley
Antares' blow bypassed the appendages with practiced ease, and although those tentacles hold unholy strength, they are powerless before the relic weapon. Leaving a trail of light, the adamantium sword covered by an ancient power field pierced the mutant's pustulated skin, cut through his bones and muscles and ripped through his blood vessels and nerves. With Antares' final draw, the grotesque head of the mutant was cut off, leaving a perfectly smooth plane on its neck.
Ignoring the still-flailing mutant, Antares struck another pair from the side, while shots poured from their autoguns. The corruption of Chaos has warped their minds, so they felt nothing other than excitement even after watching Antares slaughter their boss, clumsily loping forth with renewed vigor.
There is a power in the Empyrean stimulating their twisted nerves, be it the enemy's blood, ally's blood, either bright red life-blood, or putrid red-purplish heretic blood, seeing it flow could only make their souls every bit as twisted as their bodies more excited, or in other words, even more insane.
Keeping his eyes on the mutants, Antares shook his left hand, and an ornate black bolt pistol appeared on his left hand.
Then, he pulled the trigger.
"Pop,pop" two brief shots sounded from the large-caliber weapon. The silenced bolt pistol fired twice, shredding the thugs' heads and chests.
Antares rapidly set his sights on new targets and fired seven times in a row. Seven shells were shot in a breath. Six thugs were blown to pieces, some slowing sliding off the damaged wall. Only another large-sized mutant managed to block the shot using his hardened, mutated tentacle limb.
Although the bolt shells are incredibly powerful, and the quality of Antares' equipment is far beyond the norm, that monster still survived by blocking the shot with a Chaotic mutation, a perversion of the holy human form.
This made Antares feel disappointed and repulsed.
But to be honest, he considers himself to be an Anomalian Beholer, and the monster having such resilience is not something to fuss over. There are lots of monsters that can block bolter shots, so having one here is nothing strange.
Furthermore, Antares isn't using an Astartes weapon, but just a bolt pistol. The shorter barrel and attenuated cartridge does not permit him access to the most powerful of bolter shots, lest the recoil cut his career short by causing damage to his shoulder and arm muscles.
It seems that Antares must use something more powerful, with more penetrability, and more destructive to take on this high-level mutant. The power sword can, without doubt, hack through its shell, but the tentacles' whipping range is too wide, and with sword alone it is difficult to repel multiple, simultaneous, devastating deep probes. It is of course, dangerous to get close a mutant when its combat ability remains unknown.
Maybe he will spray acid on you like a cockroach.
An anti-armor missile is obviously overkill for such a target, and shockwaves coupled with shrapnel is a sure way to cause collateral damage.
So, a shot of boiling, iridescent blue plasma is probably a good choice.
Unfortunately, Antares isn't used to carrying dual pistols. And it seems a bit unnecessary to carry a plasma pistol when he already has a bolt pistol.
Given the above, Antares raised the meltagun attached to his right arm.
Then, a blue combi-melta flow burst forth, and the mutant was reduced to a bubbling pool before it could react.
With the battle over, Antares deftly sheathed his sword.
"My lord, holy Inquisitor," Omini said in his own peculiar tone. "Why didn't you take a prisoner to properly extract information?"
"It's useless. Even if you learn who their leader is, it can only be a heretic higher up in their pecking order that could have forced them here. In other words, keeping one alive for even one more second might give us more unexpected trouble. Normal interrogation doesn't work on these monsters, and we don't have time to waste here. Instead of staying, we'd better immediately resume our advance to the meeting point, understood?"
"Of course, my lord, you are right, I cannot thoroughly interrogate a Chaos cultist with what little tools we have at hand, especially when they are obviously corrupted by Chaos."
Alice agreed, but her grip on the shotgun tightened: "We'd better move on, I'm afraid it's not safe here."
Antares nodded in affirmation. He had long since lost count of people who have attempted to kill him, and even the most stupid among them will not think several rookies can kill an Inquisitor of Ordo Hereticus.
Of course, things would go easier if those heretics were so stupid. But rebellion has just been put down on Londinium, which means that those that are stupid have been killed already, and the survivors are all among the most cunning ones.
"Oh no." Omini suddenly said. "Sir, I just realized something."
The former smuggler is showing a rare case of anxiety. "These goons are definitely incapable of killing us, and you feel it, right m'lord?"
"Hmm…yes." Antares did not respond directly to this statement. Omini never expresses himself fully in one sentence, and although he would do so when forced, on a rare occasion like this, he is prompted to finish himself, so Antares decided to be patient with his antics.
"I mean…sir, they might just want to delay you? After all, this is just the underhive, they couldn't acquire any heavy weapons, and the patrols are everywhere so they couldn't amass large numbers. But Inquisitor Vail is in the hive bottom… that's the source of rebellion and the area tainted most heavily by Chaos, right?"
Antares paused for a moment, then turned his hood over his head and ran out of the alley.
"My lord?" asked Alice, a step behind the inquisitor, while Omini followed Alice.
"Hurry, there's no time to waste, we must..." Then, Antares jumped up, swiftly lifting his pistol before firing into the shadows, blasting the head of a mutant who had lain in ambush into a mess of red and white.
"Meet up with Amberley before it is too late."
