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Chapter 11: Daemon's Bane
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Part 3
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Deimos Peninsula
Kronus
It was a rare and terrible occasion when the Legions of Khorne needed to fight with forethought, much rarer that they cared for it. It was rarer still they were ordered to pursue an agenda besides slaughtering everything in their path.
Today was such a terrible day. U'zhul was among the last Daemon to fight his way through the Warp and a searing barrier of golden power. His great war-steed stumbled and bellowed in pained fury. Smoke rose from Khul'tyran's armored hide. The tough flesh refused to seal back together until the foreign power still clung to it and burned. U'zhul fared a little better – his armored, skull covered coat took the brunt of the Anathema's wrath. The golden light still seared his face and hands nearly to the bone.
The Herald of Khorne smiled anyway. The Anathema's power wasn't enough to deny him passage! In exchange for what he just suffered, he would reap troves of mighty skulls! But even that was secondary.
Today, the Skulltaker was going to make a point. Chaos would not, could not be denied. Khorne's will could never be denied! There would be an everlasting war! Rivers of blood would drown the galaxy, and mountains of skulls would fight for the privilege to adorn Khorne's throne!
Where schemes and arrogance failed, might, blood and skill would carry the day!
Thus Khorne ordained, and thus U'zuhl would make it be!
Khul'tyran trampled lesser Daemons who had the temerity to find themselves in their way. He feasted on a few of them, using their energy to hasten his healing, and the Skulltaker approved. He rode past Eliphas the Dark Apostle and sneered at the failure. One day, he would take the fool's skull and throw it away as the unworthy trash it was!
Soon, U'zhul reached the pathetic excuse of a battlefield he had to reshape. Not even a full Legion of Daemons, all but a handful of weak examples of their kind, was all he had to work with. The Herald was beginning to understand why Khorne sent him here.
He could see the enemy, and most of them weren't worthy of his time, much less his blade. The Skulltaker beheld the soulless machines, with worthless skulls. He experienced the void that was actually mildly dangerous. He could feel a nasty patch of the Warp around it. It was twisted into a disgusting, abominable mockery of all that a Daemon of Khorne stood for.
Khul'tyran roared in shared fury, and thousands of throats answered. The Daemons now knew he was here. Every single Bloodletter went wild, as they should. U'zhul was what they wanted to be, the pinnacle of his kind, and today, he was going to prove it once again.
The Herald of Khorne drew his hungry Hellblade, pointed at the enemy, and went to war.
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The Necron Lord of Kronus watched a horde of abominations approach. He beheld the greatest atrocity wrought by the ancient enemy, at the offense against reality itself. The Necron Lord decided that he hated every single one of the abominations with a burning passion.
That revelation surprised him and gave him a brief pause to re-examine his mental state. In less than a second, countless safety routines and scans ran their course, and what they revealed did indeed stun him for another second.
Meanwhile, his Warriors, and Human allies, wasted no time. Without waiting for orders, they opened fire at the advancing forces of insanity. Emergency sub-routines locked down parts of the Necron Lord's mind, forcing down the stunned confusion he briefly experienced. This revelation could wait, no matter how important it might be.
The Human artillery was somewhat effective in the killing ground between the trans-dimensional defenses erected by the servants of the Abominations and the alliance's defense perimeter. Human solid-projectile fixed defenses and crew-operated weapon emplacement opened fire next followed by hastily dug in vehicles. Meanwhile, the Necron Drone swarms and Destroyers opened fire to intercept a powerful and sustained enemy artillery barrage. The darkened sky lit up with explosions, clearly illuminating the battlefield.
As expected, Human, Eldar, and even Necron long-range firepower were less effective than desired against this type of abominations. And as accounted for, the enemy armor would advance after the next pulse of their profane defensive towers. However, those were conventional threats, which had many available answers.
The approaching horde was something else, especially several powerful emanations that used the rest as shields to get close. Bolts of trans-dimensional energy rained upon the defenders. Abominations ran towards them, shrugging off enough firepower to down a heavily armored vehicle.
The Necron Lord opened his connection to the power generators at his base and the powerful capacitors they fed. The Monolith anchoring the left flank of the defense perimeter lit up with energy. Advanced sensors swept the surrounding area, brute-forcing their way through trans-dimensional distortions. He designated coordinates and opened the floodgates.
Massive pillars of energy breached the gap in time and distance between the Necron stronghold and the battlefield in front of him. The whole front lit up with emerald lighting. The first rows of abominations disintegrated. Their destruction formed a barrier that protected the rest from the backslash. The charging horde briefly faltered. Swarms of Hunter Drones slammed into them and detonated, adding to the confusion. Impossible energies and effects turned an army-shattering blow into mere confusion. What should have been killing blows caused mild to moderate wounds that quickly began to close.
It didn't matter. The abominations slowed down, and now they had a near-solid wall of Necron Warriors waiting to receive their charge. The Necron Lord's guard was finally awake, hale, and ready for battle. The Lychguard stood tall and defiant, wielding Warscythes and thick shields. Behind every single one of them stood a phalanx of warriors equipped for close combat.
For the second time that day, the Necron Lord drank deeply from the power well at his base and teleported between two of his ancient companions. To his shame, his damaged databases couldn't recall their names or most of their history together. Nevertheless, he could recall many images of them fighting together on countless battlefields, from the beginning of the War in Heaven to its bitter end.
The three of them stood shoulder to shoulder, right in the path of a large angry abomination that rode an even huger monstrosity. This one would do, the Necron Lord decided.
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U'zhul had to reconsider. There might be a handful of worthy metal skulls to take after all. One of his primary targets dared show itself, and he was going to ensure it wouldn't survive to offend Khorne again. He screamed a challenge and spurred Khul'tyran onward. The large Necron pointed an open palm their way and shot a beam of green energy straight at them. Khul'tyran plowed straight through it, screaming in pain and fury. His armored hide burst into fire and burned away. Flesh stronger than steel burned slowly but surely, until the Necron attack hit bone and halted, kept at bay by the sheer power and bloody-minded determination of the Daemon.
Khul'tyran wouldn't be denied so easy, neither would U'zhul!
Explosions rippled all around the Herald of Khorne. They scattered Lesser Daemons and even sent some weaklings back to the Warp before their talon could spill blood. The rest staggered, got to their feet, and resumed their charge.
"Blood for the Blood God!" U'zhul roared furiously. He hated those soulless, bloodless machines with a blinding passion!
"Blood!" At least a thousand Daemons screamed back, and they fell upon the enemy like an avalanche of Hellblades, teeth, and claws. They were the fury of the Warp itself, and nothing could stop them!
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Part 4
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Deimos Peninsula
Kronus
Crude mortal artillery and energy attacks flew above the battlefield and slammed into the closest nasty green Pylon. Sorcery and pure Warp attacks followed, concentrated on the single real danger Chaos faced on Kronus. Moments before U'zhul was about to trample his first target, a Pylon blew up, and the walls keeping the Warp at bay weakened.
Lighting thundered, and Khul'tyran suddenly stumbled, falling on his front paws just before they could smash through the Necrons. U'zhul felt a barrier fall, pushing the Warp away and draining his energy. As if that wasn't bad enough, the closest source of Warp he could grasp was anything but invigorating. It contained no fury and rage, no echoes of slaughter or screaming souls. It was like a poison to his very existence, and he recoiled at its very touch.
This was the reason why Khorne himself sent him here! He had to eradicate this unnatural phenomenon and take the skulls of those who brought something so despicable into existence!
The Necron Lord lashed at Khul'tyran again, and this time his two guards followed suit. They lowered their weapons at the great War-steed and unleashed emerald lighting to ravage the mighty Daemon.
U'zhul had no choice and vaulted out of his seat. Khul'tyran roared in pain and fury and got up to gore the despicable machines. Emerald beams, ugly things, not like the more bearable Nurgle poisons, cut its feet from under him. Daemon flesh yielded, and this time, Khul'tyran couldn't get enough Warp energy fast enough to heal, much less shrug off the wounds.
The Skulltaker came to the rescue, followed by hundreds of Bloodletters. They slammed into the Necron lines with a vengeance. Hellblade and claws met Warscythes, Hyperphase swords, and tough Necrodermis. Necrons fell, but so did Daemons. Massed artillery struck their rear ranks. Drones suicided among their numbers and the Imperials poured as much fire into the Daemons as they could from their elevated positions. Daemons vanished, banished, screaming back into the Warp much faster than it should have been possible.
It didn't matter! U'zhul could instinctively read the battlefield. There weren't enough Necrons to stop them, and Eliphas would be useful for once – the armored columns were on the way, and very soon, the enemy would have to shoot at them.
Besides, all that didn't matter right now. The Skulltaker had his target where he wanted it! U'zhul roared furiously and slammed into the Necron Lord, and pushed it back. The fury of the Warp clashed with Necron trickery. The world slowed down to a crawl while four warriors did their best to tear each other to pieces.
It was glorious!
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If Anteas was a lesser man, his blood would freeze in his veins as soon as the Daemon attack began. He could recognize the Warp-abomination leading the charge. It was U'zhul the Skulltaker. That thing was an Alpha class threat at best, one not to be engaged without a strong Grey Knight contingent, and powerful anti-Daemon counter-measures available.
There were no Grey Knights on Kronus. However, there were various anti-warp and Daemon options available. Anteas only hoped they would be enough.
"Brothers, with me!" The Librarian's voice rattled the Landraider. "Drive straight at that monster!"
Anteas spared a brief moment to check the tactical feed and grimaced. He could see the Inquisitor, his Blank ward, and Bodyguards heading into the fray. Anteas knew the plan, and this was precisely the wrong time and target to try it on! The Skulltaker was here, and it would be all they could do to survive the day.
"Raven Five to all elements on this net, designating priority target, Alpha Class Threat! Concentrate all available firepower on it. Do not approach without heavy anti-Warp protection!"
The Landraider's engine roared to life, and the assault transport plowed through its dug position to charge down the slope of the plateau. The Terminators inside chanted prayers and litanies of protection, while Anteas glared at the camera feed. He could see the Inquisitor and his security detail expose themselves and charge straight to where the Xenos fought and slowly lost against the Daemon horde.
This time, that fool was going to get himself killed for sure!
Lascannons and heavy bolters firing trice blessed rounds lashed at the Daemons. Numerous explosions shook the horde and scattered portion of it, giving a brief respite to the Xenos.
"Raven Actual to all Assault Squads, form on me. We're going in!" Captain Thule's voice came through the battle net.
There were about thirty Assault Marines available. Even with the Captain himself leading them, it wouldn't be enough. To make things worse, the Traitor's armor was on the move. They couldn't let the Daemons reach their hasty setup defense line! Doing so would invite disaster.
"Terminators and Dreadnoughts, advance." The Captain ordered.
The Assault Squads naturally reacted faster, and soon all of them jumped from the top of the plateau into the bloodbath below. Five venerable ancients advanced as a single unit, liberally dispensing blessed ammunition from their assault cannons. Behind them slowly advanced a Terminator squad outfitted for long-range engagement. The Inquisitor's party drove on after them, with the madman himself and the blank kid riding on top of a Command Chimera. A swarm of Necron Drones circled them, intercepting incoming enemy firepower. A group of Necron Destroyers left their positions to act as a flank guard. Their heavy weapons blasted apart incoming artillery heading their way.
It wasn't nearly enough. The odd Warp-blast sent by the Daemons went through, only to harmlessly dissipate when it went anywhere near the Inquisitor.
This was sheer madness, and it was working.
"Get us down there now!" Anteas demanded.
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Technically speaking, it has been a very long time since the Necron Lord of Kronus faced Warp-spawned abominations. However, after the long sleep, it didn't feel that way. He could recall bits and pieces of the final battles when reality itself shattered. That allowed monsters from another dimension to arrive, so they could devour everyone.
This was no different. However, this time, he might just have a way to vanquish them for good. Such an opportunity was worth risking everything.
The Necron Lord faced the strongest abomination on the battlefield. If he was alone, he would have lost. That much became certain almost immediately. Even with its connection to its dimension of origin weakened by the Pylons, that thing was impossibly fast and powerful. Its profane blade was extremely dangerous, and it wielded it with a skill that no living being should possess.
It took the efforts of three Necrons to barely keep it at bay. They only managed to do so by slowly falling back while under the effect of a Chronometron. That thing was so fast that only the artifact allowed them to keep up, if barely.
The Necron Lord didn't know the name of the abomination he faced. He didn't care to learn it. What mattered was it was extremely powerful. The Pylons and his Shadow Ankh weakened it, yet it still outclassed three of the best Warriors he had ever known.
This was better than anticipated, or would be as long as the plan worked.
The Necron line buckled, then briefly stabilized when artillery bombardment and Hunter Drones slammed into the Daemons buying a few precious moments. Human anti-abomination weaponry took its toll, and the Allied enhanced warriors joined the fray, using crude rocket packs to slam into the beasts.
The line didn't break. It held, if barely, however, it bent in the center, where the Necron Lord had to fall back. The frenzied abominations made another push, and the large beast, the one he fought rode to the battlefield on, staggered into the fray as well. It was slow, wounded, yet it came anyway.
There was a purpose behind the mad attack – the abominations did their best to separate him from support and make him an easier target. How predictable.
Another Pylon fell prey to concentrated attack from trans-dimensional energy and what appeared to be every single long-range weaponry the enemy had. The barriers holding reality itself together weakened, and the abominations attacked with redoubled vigor. The quadrupedal beast trampled a Lychguard and got gutted in the process, staggering with a Hyperphase sword sticking from its belly.
The Necron vanished, whiskered away to safety for repair, just like instead of dying for good, the abominations merely returned home. That was a significant advantage the Necron had tried to deny them since the last days of the War in Heaven. It was time to see if they would finally succeed.
For a third time that day, the Necron Lord drank deeply from the reserves of power gathered in his stronghold. A mental command had his companions break off to slow down the tide of lesser abominations while he fell back faster. This emboldened the monster facing him, and it swung even faster and harder at him. The Necron Lord could no longer stop all attacks coming his way, much less find the time and space to counter-attack. The burning blade struck him again and again, leaving rends into his tough platting. The damage was superficial, yet it grew with each successful strike.
A small scale Human counter-attack ensured that the line held for a bit longer, leaving the Necron Lord and his opponent fighting alone. The Inquisitor arrived then with the Pariah child at his side and numerous mortal guards on their heels.
Instead of feeling threatened, the abomination laughed in glee and screamed some nonsense in ugly language.
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