Warhammer 40: Doom

Chapter 59 Eight Hours of Obstruction

After a brief rest and with technical personnel handling the aftermath for the orcs, the Night Guard once again embarked on their journey to the City of Truth.

The march proceeded at a very fast pace, and the atmosphere was quite relaxed.

The Night Guard's march remained orderly, their ranks aligned in rows and columns, their steps synchronized, as they traversed the majestic mountains and followed the tracks of the Titan Train, rapidly advancing towards the City of Truth.

The soldiers had piercing eyes, straight backs, and even their breathing seemed to be synchronized.

Striding across the green wasteland, bathed in the colorful glow emanating from the Crystal Mountains, the Night Guardian, bearing both glory and scars, enjoys a brief moment of peace.

Doom squinted his eyes contentedly, feeling the warm breeze of late spring caressing his face. His incredibly fast-paced thoughts were even willing to pause at this moment, enjoying the rare tranquility after the battle.

A patrol unit was on guard around the perimeter, using anti-gravity motorcycles to provide visibility for the marching column.

The war fortress is suspended in the center of the formation, which allows the army to quickly assemble and launch a rapid counterattack from the fortress when the marching troops are attacked.

The anti-gravity motorcycles that were used extensively in the battle are now parked inside the fortress, with only a few left for reconnaissance, in order to save unnecessary equipment consumption.

In Nur, everything related to technological creations must be used sparingly.

"How are your injuries?" On the terrace of the war fortress, Doom leaned back in his chair with his eyes half-closed and asked Harlan in a relaxed tone.

At this moment, Harlan's upper body armor was removed, and he was wrapped in a layer of gauze. He leaned against the fence, with his spear standing there as a support for the healing potion.

The emerald green medicine is injected into the body via intravenous infusion and slowly repairs damaged human tissue through gene repair.

The therapeutic agent is one of the few technological products that Nur can produce. Its ingredients are extracted from herbal plant essences and have a significant effect on human cell regeneration.

Unless a limb is severed, it can perfectly treat damaged tissue and promote cell regeneration to heal wounds.

“Just some minor injuries.” Harlan was unconcerned about the physical damage, his attention entirely focused on his hands, concentrating intently on sculpting his artwork.

With his perfect skill, Guya's head was stripped of all flesh and tissue, leaving only a perfect orc skull.

Harlan was carving a pattern on the forehead of the skull with a knife, the same pattern as the mark on Doom's chest.

According to him, it was a perfect work to commemorate the dead Guya and the Doom who defeated it.

Ms. Erica stood quietly to the side, habitually observing Doom. She was very curious about how this man possessed such powerful abilities.

"grown ups!"

The sexy voice sounded somewhat surprised, and her slender fingers pointed to Doom's chest.

Doom sensed it too. Looking down, he saw the rune mark on his chest emitting a faint red glow, the red halo rising and falling like breath.

"I have a feeling this is bad news!" Harlan noticed it too, squinted, and subconsciously voiced his opinion.

His intuition was incredibly sharp; the moment he saw the mark glow, his heart tightened instinctively.

Doom's relaxed expression suddenly turned grim, his gaze shooting like lightning towards the direction of the City of Truth: "Our next supply point is almost here, isn't it?"

"Yes, my lord!"

The liaison officer quickly stepped forward, holding a holographic projection sphere, to show the War Lord the next supply point: "Next location, the town of the Knight Family, the supplies have already arrived."

Doom nodded, a restless feeling rising within him, an unprecedented thrill, fleeting yet undeniably real.

A surge of hatred and deep-seated disgust welled up within him, making him grit his teeth.

"My lord." The lead ranger's communications came through. The howling wind and the busy signal made his voice tremble slightly: "The Knights' tribe is completely silent, and the scanner has detected no signs of life!"

Harlan pulled himself up from the railing, ripped off the medicine from his body, tore open the bandage on his chest, and gave Doom a look that said, "I knew it wouldn't be that simple."

The champion swordsman's intuition was incredibly sharp; he was always ready to fight alongside Doom.

"No! There's someone!" The ranger's tone was full of surprise, then gradually lowered, filled with wariness and hostility: "It's the priest of the City of Truth!"

Upon hearing the Rangers' report, the people in the command room exchanged glances, their eyes filled with doubt, confusion, and a deep sense of gravity.

The presence of the priest indicates a problem with the lockdown of the City of Truth, but no further news has arrived.

"Don't go near him," Doom ordered the rangers. "The other rangers, approach the knightly tribe and conduct a grid search of the surrounding area for any signs of the enemy." After giving everything the order, Doom glanced at Harlan, asking if he was ready for battle.

Harlan raised his spear and swung it around a few times, indicating that he was fine.

As the Night Guardians approached the Knights' Village, darkness fell, and the aurora borealis hung in the sky like a fluttering ribbon.

Doom stood on the terrace gazing into the distance. His eyesight was remarkable. When the outline of the Knights' Tribe appeared on the horizon, his thick eyebrows furrowed. The situation was not optimistic.

The tribe, with a population of nearly 100,000, protected by knights, mechs, and local armed forces, should have been bustling with life, but now it is deathly silent, devoid of any sign of life.

At the entrance of the vast town stood a priest in a red robe, who seemed to have been waiting for a long time.

The rune on his chest glowed red again. Doom squinted and carefully examined the priest before issuing the order: "Pass down the word, the troops disperse in place, prepare for battle in defensive formation."

The communications officer bowed and relayed the war lord's instructions.

"Let's go." Doom called to Harlan, and the two rode their motorcycles to meet the red-robed priest.

Doom believed that the priest who had been waiting for so long was waiting for him, given his blatant appearance.

In the twilight, the silent knightly tribe, like a beast lying prone on the ground, gradually disappeared into the darkness, waiting for the gifts to arrive.

The red-robed priest seemed to have been waiting for a long time. Seeing someone approach, he slowly rose and then knelt down.
"Homage to the War Lord!"

"How did you break through the Night Guard's blockade? Were you waiting for me?" Doom got out of the car and carefully examined the priest in front of him.

His appearance differed from tradition; unlike the mysterious and slender traditional priests, he was robust and as tall as Haran, with a violent and flamboyant aura.

He wore a blood-red robe with copper thread embroidery adorning the folds at the edges, and a large waist tag hanging in front of his waist, which was an abstract "8" symbol cast in brass.

Doom frowned; he recognized the symbol. The chair that called itself the God of Warriors also had an "8" brass symbol at the top of the backrest.

God! Seeing the same symbol again confirms my conjecture.

On a spiritual level, the father has already confronted Him and foreseen His coming.

“We left the City of Truth long before Norwick gave the order.”

Surprisingly, the priest did not hide anything and truthfully explained the issues.

Doom nodded slightly, unaware that he was lying.

The red-robed priest's voice was deep and muffled, and beneath the shadow of his hood, his eyes gleamed with a blood-red light: "I obey the Blood God's decree and will stop you here, but only for eight hours!"

Doom secretly breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this.

Leaving the City of Truth ahead of time indicates that the Night Guard's blockade is still in place, and the fact that they are blocking him here shows that his elder brother and his army are still fighting.

Harlan stepped forward and asked disdainfully, "You? A charlatan pretending to be a god?"

His sharp gaze locked onto the red-robed priest, his spear itching to strike, ready to take the charlatan's life in an instant.

The Night Watchers have an innate disdain for priests who manipulate psychic powers, including cities that seek the truth.

Warriors strictly adhere to the Warrior's Code, which clearly tells every Night Guardian that the future must be tested with their swords, and that hope must be earned by humanity itself.

Engage with courage in the face of the future; everything is created by yourself.

Therefore, the Night Guard despises the priests of the City of Truth, believing that religious people who devote themselves to the gods and give everything to their faith are a group of supplicants without any dignity.

Their faith is powerless; their fanatical faith masks a fragile heart.

Those who place all their hopes in the gods will eventually find themselves with nothing.

“Champion Swordsman Harlan Ogrivi.” The red-robed priest looked at Harlan, his tone full of respect and admiration: “I am indeed no match for you. Even with the blessing of the Blood God, I cannot defeat you.”

"A mighty war lord! Favored by the Blood God!" The priest's voice suddenly rose as he looked at Doom and asked excitedly, "Do you think I can hold you off for eight hours?"

The priest's words made Doom subconsciously look up at the town behind him, a place devoid of life, yet concealing a tremendous power.

(End of this chapter)