Chapter 26: The Frontier of Empire: Glory and Homeland

The sound of metal knocking rumbled, and the sounds echoed in the training cabin like crisp bells. The cold light that kept flashing under the lighting strips was like meteors sliding down the dark night sky. The weapons in the hands of the combat training servitors The training swords were spinning and waving at high speed.

Lancelot tossed and turned in the training cage. Those high-speed swords that were far beyond the sight of ordinary people seemed to be replaying in slow motion in Lancelot's eyes. Astartes' tall but flexible body allowed him to dodge constantly. .

Caliban Knight did not carry weapons, but entered the combat training cage empty-handed. Once those sharp blades hit him, they would definitely be enough to cut off the connection between flesh and blood, but the young knight did not have the slightest fear. He faced his fear in the training cage.

The burly body rotated between the blades like a welcome, and the lightning-fast blades did not hurt him at all. The Dark Angel Space Marine turned around and dodged a sword from the servitor.

He blocked and counterattacked at an extremely fast speed, and swords flew out in front of him. The skilled swordsman used the sharp blade in his hand as if it were part of his own body.

Lancelot showed off his unparalleled skills in the dim training cabin. Presumably, even among the Dark Angels, he was an outstanding swordsman.

Lancelot threw away his sword, turned around and dodged a slash at very close range, then popped out his arm and pressed the switch of the servitor with lightning speed.

The fighter servitor with countless arms gradually fell silent after a ticking sound. The servitor shrank backwards, and then was lifted into the top hatch.

Lancelot took a breath. He opened the safety door of the training cage. His muscular body was covered with sweat. He put a towel. Well, okay, it was definitely a bath towel for mortals, but you know Yes, this is the Astartes.

Lancelot put the towel around his neck and then strode out of the training cabin. He came to the vast space outside the cabin door and the public training area.

But now it is empty, only three giants are here.

None of the Astartes were wearing armor, even Bell was only wearing a robe. He was sitting on a bench, repairing a bolter with a multi-purpose tool pliers.

Beside him, Ragnar was swinging his chain ax at high speed. The ax made a roaring sound, and was as flexible and smooth in his hand as Lancelot's sword.

What? You ask why Ragnar doesn't go into the training cage? Ah, that's because after he dismantled the servitors again, Cole still issued a ban on him. If this Fenrisian wolf still dares to go in during this time, Cole swears in the name of the Emperor and the Imperial Navy, he will Ragna will definitely be stuffed into the naval gun, and then shot into the star of this galaxy.

Lancelot walked to his position, which was a dumbbell rack, but there was no dumbbell on it, but a long sword, a long sword decorated with holy wings.

Several servitors were surrounding, holding incense burners and swinging regularly around the sword, as if they were performing some ancient sacred ritual.

"Lao, Lao, your Majesty the Lion King, please guide your heir's sword to attack the empire's enemy, so that this sacred blade will never be defeated."

Lancelot muttered words. He put his palms on his heart and chanted the ancient prayers of the warband. These sacred and ancient sentences have been passed down among the Sons of Caliban for thousands of years.

According to legend, as early as the Great Crusade, the Dark Angels would soothe the machine spirits in their hands, hoping that those ancient and powerful souls would protect them and lead them to victory.

Ragnar smiled, he threw the chain ax high, and then caught the roaring battle ax in mid-air, "Hey, Lancelot, why are you out so soon? Are you tired?"

"Tired? No, Ragnar, I can't forget the prayer ceremony no matter what. This is the sacred custom of the Dark Angels." Lancelot said, passing a finger across the back of the sword blade, and mouthed There are words to be muttered, which are elusive High Gothic sentences, and there is also a slight accent.

"Ah! I hate it the most when you all mutter High Gothic. Why is this Gothic different from Bell? Caliban dialect?"

"Caliban dialect? Oh, no, no, this is probably the dialect of my hometown Colony. Although I left there very early, the traces of my hometown have always been with me." Lancelot said, He took a bottle of holy water from the servitor and applied it to the blade of the sword in a very solemn and ceremonial manner.

The holy water still has a little incense scent, maybe it can really appease the machine soul?

Ragnar looked confused, "Coloni? What place is that?" "My hometown, at least the place where I was born, is an imperial feudal world planet. I am the eldest son of a local knight. I was killed by a He was selected by a priest on a passing Dark Angel Chapter strike cruiser, and then joined the glorious Chapter."

Ragnar's confusion did not diminish at all. He still looked at Lancelot with great differences, "Wait a minute, you mean you were not born on the planet Caliban? Your priests will go to other planets." To recruit new soldiers?"

Bell, who was sitting on the side, sighed helplessly. He looked at Ragnar, "The Dark Angels Chapter is a ship-based war group. They travel in the universe on giant rocks. Naturally, recruits are recruited from various recruitment planets. The ship-based war group Not uncommon among our brothers."

"We fought side by side with the Black Templars, remember? They, the Sons of Dorn, are the ship-based warband." "I know they are, but I never knew the Dark Angels were, and Caliban is not their home planet. ?"

Lancelot smiled jokingly, "Caliban is the Rock. It is a huge suspended meteorite with an unparalleled propulsion engine installed at the end, allowing our battle group to travel in the galaxy."

"The giant rock is also our Chapter. It is the only remaining part of Caliban. Our Chapter's monastery is built on it." "What? Caliban exploded?"

Bell stopped what he was doing and looked at Ragna speechlessly, "Caliban's home planet was destroyed by a supernova, and now only the part protected by the void shield is left. Have you studied in your war group? The history of the nine major founding battle groups?”

Ragnar waved his hand nonchalantly, looking extremely casual, "Come on, I'm not one of those nerds, I prefer to listen to the glory stories of the Chapter! Hey! Olaf, do you still remember the story told by the old wolf Logan? The story of our Primarch, Leman Russ!"

The old wolf sitting not far away maintaining his armor smiled and nodded slightly, "How could I forget? I still remember the first time I heard the Wolf Lord's words. I will never forget that Leman Russ asked him to Sing that story for a long time.”

Ragnar laughed and spun the chain ax with one hand, "That's right! I still remember many stories, our great and glorious war history. This is much more conscious than giving lectures. Bell, won't you tell me?"

"The glory of the Chapter? Of course, of course we will talk about it, but the Ultramarines are also more important than academic studies. Ragnar, Lord Robert Guilliman once asked us to not only become an outstanding warrior, but also an excellent scholars.”

Ragnar waved his hand impatiently, then looked at Lancelot, "What about you? Are you so boring?"

The Dark Angel smiled, and he put the holy water aside, "We will naturally tell the glory of the Chapter, usually told by the Chaplain of the Chapter. Lord Safin has told us countless stories of glory, and I even had the honor to listen to it. Lord Azrael will tell us about the glory of the Chapter."

Ragnar smiled and rubbed his neck, "That's right! We are the Astartes, glory trumps all else!" "There is also faith and loyalty, Ragnar, I remind you not to forget it."

Bell said seriously, "This is the biggest difference between us and the traitors." "Of course, of course, my priest." Ragnar said with a smile and sat down on the side.

"You don't really think I'm the same as those traitors, do you? The glory of the Space Wolves includes our loyalty to our all-father, right, brother." "Of course, Ragnar, that's how it should be."

Olaf said, wiping the pattern marks on the armor. Every time he took care of the huge priest power armor, Olaf would be busy for a long time, but the old wolf never showed fatigue, but always took care of it happily. This is an old friend who has followed him for who knows how many years.

His breath has long turned white. Even by Astartes standards, Olaf is already considered old. However, his aging face has not affected this powerful warrior in the slightest. He is still the same strong, mighty and powerful warrior. The deadly Fenrisian wolf.

"Our battle group trials were fierce! I was naked and carrying a knife through the ice fields colonized by Fenris, fighting against the extreme cold and the beasts on the ice fields."

Ragnar said with a smile, obviously bragging, he patted his arm, "A giant bear that didn't know how to live or die bit me and tore off a large piece of my flesh, and then I exhausted that bastard to death. I just used this arm! I peeled off its skin and wore it across the ice fields of Fenris and arrived at Wolffang Castle.”

As he spoke, he raised the tooth pendant hanging around his neck. Obviously, it was the tooth of the giant bear. Olaf also had a similar pendant on his neck, which was inherited by the Space Wolves Chapter from their home world. ancient culture.

According to legend, every Fenris warrior needs to go on a hunt when he reaches adulthood, a dangerous but glorious hunt. These young men who have just grown up will enter the wilderness to track and hunt those powerful beasts. In the end, if the Emperor If they are willing, they will return to their tribe, carrying the trophies from the beasts, and become real men there.

"I dare say! The kittens of the Dark Angels definitely don't have such a "terrible" battle group ceremony. Look at this kitten, he is tired in half an hour." Ragnar still did not forget to tease Lancelot. Can it be regarded as a long-standing cultural custom of the two war groups?

Lancelot picked up the knight's sword. He turned and looked at Ragnar with a sarcastic smile, "Then let's have another round? Last time we were interrupted by Vito, and we haven't decided the winner yet." He said flippantly, and Ragnar laughed, laughed, and walked towards him with his chainsaw.

Bell cursed and stood up, "You two! Stop it in the name of the Emperor!" "Don't be so boring, Bell. Let's just do it. I can knock this kitten down in one go!" "I doubt it, brother, let's try it."

"Stop!" Old Wolf said sternly. The two people who had raised their weapons stopped instantly. They turned their heads and saw that Olaf had stood up and looked forward. A man was walking towards the edge of the training hall. To be precise, he is a half-machine, half-flesh person.

With Omega's iron feet, he walked step by step on the marble floor. He came to several Astartes warriors, the mechanical eyes in his eyes flashing with a strange light.

"You can go down and compete. I suggest a contest of killing the number of enemies." Omega's mechanical voice said word by word, and the two warriors put down their weapons and made way to both sides.

Old Wolf Olaf walked through them, and the burly giant stood in front of Omega, like a mountain blocking the sun.

Omega raised his head slightly, looked directly into Olaf's eyes, and then looked at the remaining three Astartes monks, "Inquisitor, we have obtained important news on the ground. We have confirmed that this planet has been infiltrated by the Tyranids."

"The local gene stealers have built a dangerous Tyranid product factory on the wasteland of the industrial plains. The Inquisitor requires that it be completely destroyed. You can execute the wrath of Omnissiah and the Emperor."

Olaf raised his head, and three warriors stood behind him, like a towering mountain.

"As the All-Knowing Father wishes, we will bring down his wrath."