"You say, the era that belongs to the Dark Angel Legion will come to an end?"

"As we shed our blood, will there be other legions that steal the title of Chief from us and take it for themselves: whether it's the Shadow Moon Wolves, the Imperial Fist, the Iron Hands, or the selfish Ultramarines?"

"It doesn't seem to have anything to do with where we are now: why do you think that?"

"Why don't I think so: we haven't been in the center of the Great Expedition for too long, and we'll never be able to go back there, our legion is already a relic of the past, a fragment of yesterday, and after this battle, presumably the legion is no longer strong enough to lead the rest of the fighting brothers."

"Our time is over, isn't it, and all that remains is oblivion, and the fate of decline and death: just like the situation we are facing now."

“……”

"You're right."

"The time of the Dark Angels is over."

“……”

"But we're lucky, aren't we: we're going to die here, and we don't see that tragic day coming, because our death will be forgotten by everyone."

"That's great news."

“……”

"yes."

"An ending that suits me well."

——————

It took him an hour to kill the enemies in front of him, the enemies he knew or didn't know, the enemies he could defeat or had to dodge: they took over every inch of his senses, and it was an hour long enough to make anyone lose the will to continue fighting.

His enemies: a twisted combination of humans, aliens, astartes, or whatever, they are insane, they are fearless, they unleash a continuous attack from every imperceptible shadow and corner, their claws and messy fangs enough to completely tear apart the strongest power armor on every son of Johnson.

The battle with them is a tempering of extreme frenzy and endless twisting: countless screams, scratches, and foaming at the mouth, these enemies are like a tide of frightened beasts, without any concept of death, fear or pain, constantly attacking the Astartes' formations, falling in front, immediately catching up in the back, and even directly running over the invisible pieces of flesh that have not yet completely died.

However, these opponents who have completely lost their fear still have a few traces of the instinctive will to fight, and the flesh and blood armor on their bodies is enough to withstand a few deadly bombs, which makes a quick battle an unattainable thing, and also makes bloodshed and sacrifice an inevitable future.

About fifteen minutes later, about as soon as they had slain a thousand times their own enemy, the casualties finally began to appear: the first victims, who would always be remembered, fell in a vast and unimaginably large hall, the grandeur of which seemed impossible to exist in this spire of the same height, but it was clear that some of the physical and structural logic had been completely distorted in this crazy hell.

The darkest temples provide a wonderful cover for the lurkers in the shadows, monsters like eagles, spiders and gray wolves that are randomly fused together, but they can clearly see the physical characteristics of several aliens and even humans, these enemies are the size of knights or titans, and they attack from the shadows, taking the lives of several warriors from the blades of the primordials: and behind them, there are still unimaginable waves.

The worst of wars began at this moment, the flames and shrill roars of the Primitives' weapons, their power destroying all enemies and temples, but there was no end in sight to the remaining enemies, as if they were enough to fill an entire continent, like a scourge, like a raging wind, like a fierce rain, like a storm swirling in the sky, like a star eroded by darkness.

No one can remember how the war lasted for the next hour and hour, but the First Legion undoubtedly held out in this wave of destruction, and they did not know how long they had fought, how much they had advanced, and they did not even know how many of their fighting brothers had lost: but every Dark Angel could be proud to be sure that they had succeeded.

After withstanding the endless waves, after passing through the long corridors and dark passes with will and steel, and after killing countless communities of monsters that were enough to destroy a nest with a single single existence, they did succeed in opening the way to the final hall.

Each of them fought during this period as an apocalypse, a rehash of the disaster of the Siege of Randan, but they did accomplish their mission, for they witnessed how their genetic father, Johnson, and his blood brothers walked on the bridge that connected the last temple.

Although there was no actual basis for it, the moment they saw the steel temple that reached into the sky, everyone was very sure that it was the heart of the enemy, that was the goal of their trip, that the royal court, which was even taller than the spire itself, was the final destination that even Morgan confirmed.

And they succeeded.

The primordials stepped on the bridge, the battle belonging to the emperor's heirs began, and the battle belonging to the dark angels ended, and their mission came to an end at this moment.

With that came their doomed death: the wave of countless blasphemous monsters was far from over, and they were still following in the footsteps of the Imperial army, and even increased exponentially in number.

So, the remaining hundred or so dark angels, after silently watching their genetic prototype disappear on the bridge, slowly turned around, held their sharp blades, formed a familiar formation, and called the names of the fighting brothers beside them.

With their backs to their primordial formal, they launched a final charge.

It's like a storm.

Like thunder.

Like a heavenly army.

——————

Just as the martyred giant ship dissipated into the icy depths of the sea, the final battle of the dark angels also dissipated into chaos and silence.

After millions of enemies roared and charged, the thin black line was finally broken away by the wave: the single-handedly Dark Angel was quickly devoured, while the remaining ones were reduced to one group after another, leaning on each other's backs, and continuing to fight.

Ammunition was exhausted, guns were overloaded, blades were dulled, until the roar of perseverance dissipated in the endless waves, knowing that the will of loyalty was broken under the tyranny of the gods, until the serenity of death came to end their journey of loyalty.

No one remembered what had happened to them, and they didn't care what had happened to them, the corpses of the enemy had long been piled up under their feet, and the hilt of the sword drinking blood in their hands had long been sticky and slippery, each of them stood on the peak, the peak of the corpses of the enemy with their will, there was still a steady stream of demons under their feet, and there were few remaining battle brothers around them.

And it's getting less and less.

Less and less......

I don't know if they were scattered, or if they died in battle.

But no matter what, he finally repelled another wave of demons.

In the last breath, as he waited quietly for the next group of enemies to arrive, and in his hoarse voice from his homeland, he wanted to talk to his comrades, and the smoky warrior of Gramayay found that there was only one person beside him.

He didn't know the fighting brother he had never met, but when they did, they talked casually about the secrets of the Legion, which had been taboo in the past, as if they were just a child's joke.

Honor, future, oblivion and death, everything seems to be no longer important now, and they talk about these words that they once regarded as the core of their lives, but there is only a helpless and relaxed smile between the words.

But the smile didn't last long, for soon the warrior of the Gramaille tribe felt a cold silence that came from the fighting brother beside him: the fighting brother who had just laughed with him, the face of the Holy Terra, was now as stiff as a dead man, and no longer gave any response or laughter.

He looked over, and the first thing he saw was the whites of his eyes, which were gradually becoming dull, and his lips were slightly fanning, as if he wanted to say something more, but he couldn't spit it out, and in the end, he only made up a few words intermittently: but the warrior of the Gramayille tribe heard it clearly.

"I ......"

"To ...... Limited......"

"He's going to ......"

“……”

"Bang-"

After the gunshot, the body collapsed.

Another Divine Terra warrior fell in the dark corner of the galaxy, and the smoky Gramayya warrior was silent, lowering his gun, and he stopped his gaze on the fighting brother who didn't even know his name, and paused for a second, as a mourning for him.

This fighting brother was lucky, at least he still had someone to help him end his suffering, and now, as a pathetic and lamentable Grammaye, it seemed that he could no longer find that fighting brother who could help him to be freed.

Only those enemies, those who had appeared at the end of his vision, were frantically surging in his direction, their numbers were boundless, their appearance was abominable, and their strength made him wonder if he could withstand this wave: but in fact, he had carried countless such attacks.

However, this time it looked extraordinarily huge, as if it were some kind of verdict: I hope he will fall in this battle, after all, the defense in his mind is crumbling, and his death is becoming urgent.

The weapon from the Holy Terra in his hand had already been overwhelmed in the previous battle, and the blow that killed another Dark Angel had completely taken the life of the weapon: the smoky Gramaille warrior had casually thrown aside the former priceless killing machine, and he only clenched his blade, which was the only weapon he had now.

Then, he walked down the mountain of dead man, several meters high, and let his battle brother lie on the corpses of countless enemies, while he walked towards the distant tide, towards his own end.

Before leaving, he paused, and glanced back at the serene-looking battle brother: this time, his voice had become incomparably clearer.

"See you later......"

——————

"Brother!"

"Bang!"

Char fired mercilessly: even by the strict standards of the Le Fay Knight, it was a very capable and merciless killing, so ruthless that no one would doubt Char's bad mood right now.

He was in a terrible mood.

Very, terrible.

Covered by the scarred Iron Rider Terminator Armor, Le Fay's pupils glowed colder than the Iron Armor, and he indifferently looked at everything in front of him: whether it was the battlefield flying sand and rocks, the chaotic logistics base, or the subspace creatures that were attacking their front farther away, it was enough to make his mood worse.

None of this is the point.

Knight Lefey's brow furrowed, his position slightly to the north, and he looked as far away as he could, beyond the horizon that he could not see: where he was shrouded in blood and storms, where they had fought, where they had slain countless Flesh Titans, and had to retreat, his genetic prototype was fighting, fighting in that spire, before the most terrible of enemies.

She was fighting for her life, but they couldn't stand by her side, and even the old guards, who boasted all day long that they wouldn't be half a step away from their original form, were sent back by their Mother of Genes.

Char remembered that in front of the tens of thousands of Daybreakers, Lana, the chief of the Praetorian Guard, who had always been known for his perseverance and efficiency, almost fell to his knees crying, begging Morgan to take them into the final battle, begging them to continue to guard the side of the original body.

But for the first time, the Protozoe vetoed their request so firmly and unequivocally, and she ended up carrying none of the Daybreakers, just as Riemanrus did not carry any space wolves, and both Genoplasms used their strongest will to suppress the opposition of their legions, and followed Johnson and the Dark Angels into the spire.

The soldiers of the Second Legion watched all this almost with mourning, and although they did not almost roar at Riemanlus's robe like the Fenris next door, to drag him back, this did not mean that their breath was light: when everyone obeyed Morgan's last order and withdrew to the battleship at minimal cost, the atmosphere in the ranks was as if they had been utterly defeated in this battle.

The only thing to be thankful for is that this extremely oppressive atmosphere did not interfere with the work level of the Praetorian Guard Commander and the company commanders, who perfectly carried out the orders of the original body, and brought almost all the Daybreakers back to the Empire's initial landing ground in this world, casualties in the retreat were still inevitable, but elite forces such as the Le Fay Knights or the Old Praetorian Guard, the casualties were not large, or even none.

But this did not make the grieving Char any better, and he was still immersed in the humiliation of not being able to stand by the side of his original body in the face of danger, just like most of his fighting brothers.

And if this sense of humiliation is the biggest reason why Char's mood has deteriorated at the moment, the direct reason why he has become angry is that when the imperial army is withdrawing in an orderly manner, the demon army that has spread from nowhere and is charging towards their base.

Even more unforgivable is the behavior of these subspace creatures.

"Enemy attack!"

Before Knight Lefey could finish thinking about the words in his head, a sharp siren interrupted his thoughts rudely, and Char immediately became engrossed, and he stood at his post like an iron wall, witnessing first-hand how the loose defensive line on the outside of the base was broken through by the demon legions with overwhelming numerical superiority: it was his turn next.

Char did not panic and confusion in the face of the demons who encountered him for the first time, and he used his blades and flamethrowers to deal with these monstrous monsters according to the experience manual he was given, and the most angry of these monsters were the lilac demons with crab claws and long whips, as well as the snow-white monsters with owl-like heads and arthropod-like limbs, as graceful as dancers.

While for the most part, these monsters are indistinguishable from the red Bloodthirsty Beasts, the Green Rotters, or the blue Magical Monsters, whenever they see the Daybreaker, something is not quite right.

"Brother!"

A joyful, sincere, and even unspilled salutation of any negative emotions will make people like it at any time, but only at this time, it is the direct cause of Char's extremely bad mood: if nothing else, just because this sincere salutation comes from this demon in front of him.

A demon, a snow-white demon, it broke through the outer defense line and came to Char, its owl-like head with large, shiny black eyes, arthropod-like arms ending in sharp claws, its lower body like a dancer's skirt, walking gracefully on the sand, dodging the fire of the Imperial army, until it discovered the existence of the Lefey Knight, and came over with an excited face.

"Brother!"

It laughs as if in the face of a real brother.

"Bang!"

Char, on the other hand, opened fire: a fire full of rage.

The first time he encountered such a situation, he was indeed shocked and unleashed his fire in almost instinctive fear, and now, the Le Fay Knight had turned cold from his anger and was no longer surprised by it.

Because every white demon like this will rush to the front of the Dawnbreakers, and their faces will be full of enthusiasm as if they are blood relatives who recognize them, and even the dark angels and space wolves who fight side by side with them will begin to look at Morgan's children with strange eyes.

"Who is Ling's brother?"

Char cursed in a low voice, and the flamethrower in his hand mercilessly spewed a deadly tongue of fire that would incinerate the demon, but this abominable mortal creature did not resist more, its figure dissipated into the flames like foam, and even had a chilling smile on the corner of its mouth.

“……”

Char took a sip, and he had to order himself to shift his attention elsewhere.

Soon, he looked to the other side of the battlefield: there was a situation there.

He saw a bunch of mortals, who seemed to be members of several mortal auxiliaries attached to the Legion of the Daybreaker: their large forces had not come down to assist in the battle, but there were still countless of these small forces that were responsible for guarding the vicinity of the landing bases, and the inevitable inefficiency of these mortal forces was one of the reasons why the evacuation had become so difficult.

"Hurry up."

Char urged them mercilessly, unlike most Daybreakers, he had always had no feelings for these mortals, and though he wasn't disgusted, he didn't bother to have anything to do with them.

But this time, things were a little different, and the weirdness came not from the instinctive response of mortals to his cold demands, but from the armored transports that the Avalons were surrounding about: more specifically, the thing strapped to it.

“……”

"What's that?"

Char pointed to the thing in the car and asked the mortals, who just looked at him in amazement.

"This, this is a Daybreaker, Your Excellency, your battle brother."

"Of course I know, he is my combat brother, I have even met him: I wonder why he appeared in your armored car, and he was tied?"

The mortals looked at each other.

"This: Because this Lord Daybreaker was wounded in a previous battle, we fought alongside him in the battle, and he was badly wounded by a demon in the subspace, and was sent to a nearby medical base."

"But immediately after, the order for a total retreat was given, and the demonic legions were in hot pursuit, resulting in a shortage of manpower, so we decided to bring him back on our own initiative, so that he would not miss the evacuated ship."

“……”

"You've always had him with you?"

"Yes."

"Walked through the battlefield? From the front line to the battlefield here? A battlefield on half a continent? ”

"Yes."

“…… Why do you do this? ”

Char looked at these mortal auxiliaries with some strange eyes.

“…… Why? ”

And these mortals looked at Char with even stranger eyes.

"What's your business with this? His safety was a concern for the pharmacists of the Dawnbreaker Legion. ”

"Uh...... My lord. ”

The leading mortal officer spoke.

"This Dawnbreaker is a battle brother who has been fighting with us for almost a decade: although he seems to be different from us in every way, he is still a battle brother of our squad, just an oversized battle brother, how can we leave him behind?"

"After all...... He's in danger of staying there......"

“……”

You think the Legion of the Daybreakers can't take care of their fighting brothers?

Why do you think that?

Char was silent, he was silent from the bottom of his heart, he didn't know for a moment whether to be angry at the inadequacy of these mortals, or laugh at their innocent stupidity.

But just before he could make all this decision, his ears caught another voice from the front line: the offensive of the demon legion was intensifying, and it seemed that another group of demons had noticed Char and the group of mortals beside him.

The Knight of Lefey looked at the attackers with some irritation: if it weren't for the mortals around him, he could have given up here for now and found a better defensive position, or brought the Dawnbreaker to the ship, instead of standing on the almost empty sand, facing waves of enemy troops in vain.

This bunch of dragging their feet.

The Knight of Lefey cursed in his heart, but when he turned around, he glanced at the mortal forces who were trying to bring the Daybreaker back to the battleship, and then at the demon tide behind them.

He still tightened his grip on his weapon, standing behind the mortals, and spoke impatiently to the auxiliaries of Avalon.

"Hurry up."

"Hurry up and get back to the battleship."

"I'll cover you here."

(End of chapter)