Dedicate loyalty to the good empire

Chapter 75 The Long Night, Part 1
Somehow, Taylor realized that everyone treated him as a hero, but he knew very well that he was not.

He was just a big guy, and it was questionable whether he could be considered elite, but now he was fighting side by side with a Space Marine.

Because it was a stealth mission, his dear Ferenstein could not be used, and he actually found it very abstract. That is, how could a behemoth like the Space Marine "sneak in"?
Is it just like the saying goes, killing them all means infiltrating?

Then Taylor saw how they did it.

Those giants stepped on the soft soil with ease. Even if they touched metal, there would be no sound and no collision on the joints of their bodies. Perfect body control constituted their stealth ability.

Of course, their ability to defy the darkness and their immense self-control were another matter; their infiltration was a delicate art form, and they could compensate for their size disadvantage by performing cat-like movements that would amaze mortals.

The heavy weapons and equipment were replaced by lightweight bolt pistols and combat daggers, which are deadly and "small and cute".

But the combat dagger was almost as exaggerated as Taylor's one-handed sword.

At this moment, an Ultramarines silently wiped the neck of a soldier in the trench. It was a simple thing for him. Now that the stars had set, Armageddon was plunged into the night and was unusually silent.

Taylor, wearing a black lead-lined windbreaker and a custom-made black gas mask, looks like the Grim Reaper in a traditional Terra story.

In fact, he did the same thing, which ended with the death of those filthy traitors.

He followed a team of Space Marines, which were the elite of the elite consisting of Wolf Boy and the Master Chief. They moved very fast and consisted of four people. Taylor did not recognize the other two Extreme Marines.

However, just being able to work with a demigod should be a great honor.

This time, Taylor only brought the girl Lightlin, who was good at hiding, and himself, which made many boys in Class 15 very disappointed.

But make no mistake, Taylor is here simply because he understands that he's safest next to the Space Marines.

In contrast, even inside the camp, one could be killed by a sudden enemy attack, but this would not happen to the Space Marines, as they were practically invincible.

The sense of security was indescribable. Now he had four big guys in power armor protecting him. Such treatment was probably something that even the ruler of a planet could not get.

As he was thinking this, he accidentally stepped on the head of a cultist. The next moment, he immediately exerted force with his military boots, and his powerful thighs instantly knocked unconscious the half-mutant who was talking about his rations and mumbling in his sleep and had a deformed head.

He raised his knife, and the Likart weapon cut his neck like cutting tofu, allowing him to meet his god of food in such mercy.

The wolf used sign language to express his approval of Taylor's clean and neat movements. Ever since he left Mossenlade, he has become Taylor's compliment.

Although I don't know if he is sincere, I can see that he really likes this mortal.

Taylor also admires his unconventional and unrestrained nature, or is Taylor also a Fenrisian at heart?

But when he thought of the long-lasting winter and death, he immediately gave up the idea. He would rather go to Valhalla than consider Fenris!
While they were daydreaming, they arrived at the core of the cultists' position, where they could see things everywhere that were extremely blasphemous to the imperial people.

For example, the hand-carved figures of the Four Gods placed in the distance have all kinds of strange appearances, ranging from those that are three-quarters similar to those that are completely abstract. Someone even carved Khorne using the Emperor as a template. If he hadn't marked his name under the base, Taylor would have thought he was a spy for the Empire.

It can be seen that even the cultists themselves have not figured out what they are fighting for. Most of them are mutants living in the lower levels of the hive. For them, the Emperor has only endless oppression and enslavement, massacres and attacks.

In the extremely racist human empire, subhumans like them who were mutated by the chemical environment were worthless, and ordinary people had only a little value.

If they meet a benevolent governor, they can work themselves to death; if they meet a crazy one, they can only hide from his pursuit for the rest of their lives.

Therefore, it is normal for the belief in the Four Gods to take root in the hearts of those guys.

Taylor tiptoed through the worship area filled with chaos symbols and figurines of the Four Gods, and they also saw the hill with the chariot parked in the distance.

This thing was like a nail embedded in a crumbling wooden plank, fixing the battle line that would have been broken by the charge into something strong enough to withstand thousands of troops. In other words, as long as this thing was pulled out, the plank would also break.

He kept repeating to himself, they were almost successful!

This was just a ridiculous operation. When it was all done, he was going to lie down inside Frenstein, drink coffee, and touch the fluffy paws of the girl Leitlin.

But when the Space Marines approached and prepared to install the thermal bomb, a bright light shone from outside.

Those were the lights of the Poison Blade tank, and Kosolax, the Chaos Lord, walked over from the side of the tank. He looked at the enemies with joy and said.

"Oh, look, the scion of Guilliman and that damned mortal officer?"

"Why didn't you announce it when you came to my camp at night?"

Taylor silently cursed his bad luck. Just thinking about the fact that this guy had tried to kill him twice made his thighs tremble.

But their stealth was perfect, no doubt about it.

Taylor understood it almost immediately.

There is a traitor within their ranks!

Maybe a greenskin? Maybe a mortal.

He and the Master Chief's eyes met instantly, and both of them realized that the other party was also aware of this.

Taylor silently prayed for the Emperor's blessing.

He also discovered that the wild wolf had left here, apparently looking for an opportunity.

That troublemaker is a stealth expert, maybe he's a glimmer of hope?
They just lost a manpower, and the situation is now even worse. If the Poison Blade fires, they will be directly killed by the cannon and reduced to ashes!

But Corthorax stepped out from the side of the tank and said with a smile, "Come, decide your future according to the honor of the World Eaters."

"Would you rather be hacked to death by me, or blown to death by the tanks produced by the Empire?"

He raised his hand, and the disgusting chainsaw axe roared. This guy was particularly addicted to gladiatorial combat because such fighting always pleased his god.

This was a chance, but Taylor couldn't see any possibility of survival, he muttered.

"I shouldn't have come..."

But he also understood that if he stayed in the camp, something bad would happen. If he stayed in the camp, he might be attacked without any Space Marines around him.

This is Murphy's Law, bad things will always happen.

But the sergeant in the red helmet just patted Taylor's shoulder lightly and lowered his body to say.

"Don't worry, I will take everyone away."

Then he drew his tactical dagger and walked towards the chosen champion of Khorne...

And this is destined to be a battle to death.

(End of this chapter)