NOVEL NEXT B2 Chapter 32
I love being a Crusader, thought Angar.
He kicked forward, the Digiti Terebrantes claws spinning on his cybernetic foot, drilling into the helmet of a Soldier.
The head caved in with a crunch, wasting an Energy Point. The drilling was unnecessary for the kill, but he had drill-toes and liked using them.
He'd cleared the path behind him, but an endless horde surged from the intersection ahead.
Another Lunger charged, likely from reinforcements, as Angar was certain he'd slain all the others. Their claws were the biggest threat he faced, and his armor bore several deep gouges from their relentless strikes.
He hoped this ship stayed intact, or this section, so he could earn credits from all the loot, instead of it all being sucked out a breach, flying off into the void.
The war-machine's plasma-charged claws slashed. Angar met it head-on, swinging his maul, imbuing an Energy Point into its Graviton Pulse Amplifier.
The hammer's head shimmered, gravity warping as the micro-well erupted, six times his force collapsing the creature's frame, the bio-metal crumpling like foil.
With its last dregs of machine-life, it lashed out with its claws, blocked by Angar's haft in a shower of sparks.
Angar had used the Lunger's body as a shield, exploiting the Neural Dominion's control that mostly prevented friendly fire. With it dead, the remaining enemies, retreating in orderly lines down the hall, unleashed a barrage of attacks.
He activated Lightning Strike and charged their line. The shield broke almost immediately, sending warnings flashing in his HUD from hits, but the 50% damage mitigation ensured he'd be fine. Or mostly fine. So far.
He was taking so many hits, he had no worry at all about Energy points, and reaching his enemies, Glory Thunders crackled in his veins. His hammer landed between a Cannoneer's eye-like targeting arrays.
A massive shockwave boomed, ripping through the Old Guard ranks, crumpling war-machines and tearing Soldiers apart, sending pieces flying backwards, battering into the enemies outside the shockwave's cone.
The survivors bolted down the right-hand corridor, and Angar smirked. He knew what their ambush setup would be.
The Neuronaut commanding these forces likely timed Ground Current's cooldown, knowing Angar had about ten seconds left before it reset.
They'd be waiting in a staggered formation, releasing volleys and barrages en masse as soon as he appeared.
He thought about waiting for it to tick off cooldown but decided against it. A few plans popped into his head.
He picked one and committed, sprinted toward the corner, stomping on the head of a still twitching Spitter as he ran by.
He leaped, pushing off his cybernetic leg, the Hydraulica Aucta propelling him through the air, canted around the corner. The ambush's barrage mostly passed under him as he crashed into a Cannoneer hammer first, caving its head-like dome in.
Gripping his maul with both hands, he spun into a whirlwind of Holy destruction.
Thunderstorm's lightning extended from the hammer's tip, its damage intensifying with each passing second, forking into new foes as Angar's blows crushed those around him.
Closer enemies fell, and he spun into those nearer the corner, clearing that side of the hallway.
As they backed away in unison, a Soldier's turret melted under the electric barrage while its biomechanical-hide blistered from forks and bolts.
Two war-machines scuttled away with plasma cannons priming, but Angar's spin caught them, the maul shattering one's chassis, sending strange sludge and diodes spraying. The second's cannons fired before it crumpled, but Tempest's 90% damage mitigation absorbed the brunt.
As his armor was peppered with flechettes, lunging claws, bioelectricity, and plasma, he couldn't help but be impressed. The pin-point precision of these profane creatures while under their unholy Neural Dominion was unnatural.
His Merciless upgrade slowed all the units attempting to flee, increasing his own speed. His lightning tore through foes, his maul battered into them, sending serpentine frames crashing into brethren in a tangle of scales and steel.
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The survivors retreated in unison, a tangled mass of scales and steel, desperate to clear the corner. Angar pushed into their ranks, moving with them.
Soon after rounding the bend back into the first hallway littered with corpses, his enemies were all dead.
About a second and a half was left on Tempest, and he let it play out, finishing off some machines that had previously survived Glory Thunders.
When the Ability finished, he waited a couple seconds, scanning the deck slick with bio-metal ichor, the air heavy with the stench of burnt circuits and alien flesh.
He inspected what dings, dents, and gouges on his armor he could. He really hoped he'd be able to collect loot, as the repairs wouldn't be cheap.
He hurled a corpse into the intersection ahead. As it shredded under fire, he peeked safely around the corner.
Ground Current triggered, bringing him into the mass packing the further end of the hallway, smashing a head in with Glory Thunders, sending war-machines flying.
There was a trick he picked up during this battle.
In big groups like this that could survive the bolts and forks, one enemy always resisted the stun, staggering more than four meters away, triggering Ground Current's free second cast.
Of course, he could also knock one far enough, and Glory Thunders excelled at doing just that.
He reappeared further down the hall, Geomagnetic Phenomena's lightning ripping through the enemies around him.
His maul swung at one target, graviton-fueled because he could afford to let loose, and his cybernetic leg, the drill-toes spinning, kicked out at another.
One Reptiloid's head caved in, a Cannoneer's frame exploded, and distant shots began battering into Angar's armor.
He activated Lightning Strike, sending a bolt streaking at his next target as his Eye of the Storm-shield shattered.
Even with the damage mitigation kicking in, something rattled him inside his armor. He roared, sending his hammer arcing in empowered blows, its graviton hum a hymn of Holy wrath, chasing down foes, caving in machines with gauntleted fists, blowing out Reptiloid knees with his cybernetic leg.
When he was finished, the corridor lay as a charnel house of smoldering wreckage and sparking conduits, littered with twitching corpses.
He stood, chest heaving, his armor scarred but unbroken. Even so, real injuries throbbed beneath his armor, as he felt the Vitalulum harness pulse warmly, clearing his mind some.
That was two more minutes towards increasing his First Aid Skill. He'd take it.
Eight Glorious Achievements displayed, each for killing one or ten of the four types of Old Guard units, giving him 12 Glory Points total.
The Synapse-Engine was still his target, and this was just the start. He heard more fighting close by, and his HUD indicated many life signs too.
He tightened his grip on his maul, and pressed deeper into the ship, swooping up some items as he passed corpses, ready to carve his name into the Litany of Heroes again, or die in a blazing glory.
He turned, and the corridor widened into a large, blackened artery of the battleship, its walls lined with eerie red lights. About a dozen meters down, the artery expanded, housing stairwells and what appeared to be lifts.
The roar of combat echoed to his left. He rounded the corner, then another, his HUD flaring with threat indicators, spotting ranks of Old Guard locked in battle with unseen foes, likely boarders from the shipper that had crashed into this vessel.
Angar triggered Lightning Strike as he charged. The rear Old Guard began turning.
Ground Current surged, teleporting him deep into their ranks, his kick sending a foe flying backwards. A second use carried him deeper still, his maul already swinging.
The enemy force was much smaller than the last, maybe a couple hundred. Angar's graviton-charged maul crushed a Lunger's head as he spun into Tempest, pulping a Cannoneer's chassis in a spray of sludge and sparking diodes.
Simo's presence registered among the allied boarders mid-spin, sniping with lethal precision. His shots weaved through the chaos, picking off targets to ease Angar's onslaught.
They hadn't fought together since Angar was a student, but the rhythm was instinctual, like a litany half-forgotten but never lost.
The last Old Guard fell, blown apart by Glory Thunders, topping off Angar's Energy Points and Charges, and the corridor fell silent save for the hiss of venting plasma and the groans of the wounded.
Simo emerged from behind a makeshift barricade of Ebon Drain-punctured soldiers, mangled war-machines, and Reptiloid corpses, his armor battered, blood seeping from breaches and rents.
A few veterans and four Sanguineous Sisters in crimson exosuits stood with him, as bloodied and banged up as Simo.
Three hundred or so poorly equipped noble troops stood with and behind them. Hundreds more lay dead past them, their bodies strewn across the deck, many impaled on Lesser Ebon Drains.
"God and Emperor, Sir," Simo called in a rough but warm voice. "Fancy meeting you here, carving your way through this unholy wreck."
Angar grinned beneath his helm, hefting his maul. "God and Empire, Simo. Good to see you. You've seen the Synapse-Engine?"
Simo shook his head as he sprayed a healing balm onto his wounds. "No, Sir. Been fighting tooth and nail since we boarded. You come in on one of Gulson's fighters? Managed to dock clean?"
"Something like that," Angar said. He paused as a thought nagged at his mind. "Any of you feel the ship take a hit lately?"
One of the Sanguineous Sisters in blood-streaked armor answered. "The plan was for our surviving ships to pull back once all enemy vessels were boarded, Sir Knight. Either they've all been boarded, or our fleet's dead."
Relief flooded Angar. He didn't want to be in a battleship as it was destroyed. "Where are we in this beast?" he asked. "Any idea how to find the Synapse-Engine?"
Simo nodded past him, down the corridor. "The upper decks somewhere. Midship, I suppose. I reckon you're not on comms, Sir? No need hunt the engine now. The Neuronaut's on this ship. Some of the more powerful that docked are about to engage it. We need to find a way down to the lower decks."
Excitement bloomed in Angar's chest. "Send me a comms invite. There're stairs and lifts not far. Split your force. Half destroy the Ebon Drains, treat the wounded, and haul them back to the shipper. The rest, follow me to glory."