Chapter 65: The Death Cult
Five days had passed since the offensive into the underhive began.
"My Lord! As of now, the reconquest of the underhive is 65 percent complete!
With that weaponry and equipment of yours, our casualties have been very low. Many workers have already returned to the factories and restarted production!
However, the only worrying aspect is the loss of population in the underhive. Counting the traitors, those who were murdered, and those who died from various unnatural causes, it is estimated that by the time the underhive is completely retaken, the population loss may approach 40 to 50 percent."
As Rebecca recited these numbers, there was no emotional fluctuation. She even felt that this population loss would conveniently alleviate the pressure on their food supply.
Planting had resumed on Omiron, but the genetically modified, short-cycle crops still needed a month of growth before the first harvest.
If the hive city still had its pre-rebellion population, they might be worrying about food again.
The offensive against the heretics had gone smoothly. The underhive gangs had welcomed the arrival of the Dynasty's soldiers and had proactively surrendered.
However, they did not receive the treatment they had imagined for those who surrender.
Lucan had no intention of letting these gangs remain. Regardless of whether they had been tainted by the Genestealer Cult, Lucan's capital world had no need for the existence of such scum.
Just as the leaders of these gangs were preparing to resume their rule after the underhive returned to normal, they were met with the gun muzzles of the Raiders.
The Raiders, following the list provided by Ian, began arresting the leaders of the surviving gangs. Unsurprisingly, these gangs on the list had been acting abnormally during this period. Although they had gathered survivors from the underhive, they had shed their former tyrannical nature; they no longer exploited anyone.
They would even go hungry themselves to share their food with others? The atmosphere in the areas protected by these gangs was exceptionally harmonious. This was all done by the Genestealers to cultivate followers, a complete contradiction to the behavior of a normal underhive gang.
To be on the safe side, all members of any gang on the list were executed. Lucan knew there would be many innocents among them, but he had no choice but to use their lives to ensure the safety of the Dynasty.
And those gangs that had preserved themselves by sacrificing the lives of survivors had even less right to live.
And as the SCVs began to finish maintaining the various damaged equipment and machinery of the underhive, the communication systems that had been out of operation for so long were restored once more.
"Norris, respond."
Lucan tried to contact Norris, from whom he hadn't heard in a long time.
A moment later, Norris's faint and weak voice came through the communicator.
"Lord Lucan, the current situation… I can't explain it."
"Can't explain?"
"Including myself, there are a total of four factions fighting in the area where I am."
Lucan could hear Norris's pained gasps, but before Lucan could ask further, Norris immediately cut the communication, not making another sound.
He reached down and clutched his abdomen. Norris's combat suit had been slashed open. Although it was only a small wound on his abdomen, Norris continuously felt a psychic energy from the wound corroding his body, causing him to feel a constant, sharp pain.
Fortunately, his own psychic energy could offset this pain; otherwise, Norris might not have been able to hold on. But the continuous output of psychic energy also made Norris feel an unprecedented exhaustion. The expenditure of psionic power even made it difficult for him to maintain his combat suit's cloaking state.
He once again drove his psychic energy to activate his cloaking state. A moment later, four stooped figures, as if following a scent, approached Norris's position.
If Lucan had been there, he would certainly have recognized these few as Sancti from the Genestealer Cult. And Norris's wound had been inflicted by them when he had taken down two other Sancti.
For the past few days, a large number of Genestealers had begun to attack the Chaos Space Marines, and Norris, who had been tracking the Word Bearers, had also inadvertently been targeted by the Genestealers.
The Sancti, as if smelling the blood from Norris's wound, slowly closed in on him.
Seeing that he could no longer hide, Norris also reached for his psionic blade, preparing for a desperate fight.
The phase shift activated. He abruptly appeared behind one of the Sancti. When he channeled his psychic energy into the blade, Norris could no longer squeeze out even a sliver of psionic power to maintain his cloak.
The fatal slash instantly killed one Sanctus.
However, the other three Sancti immediately charged towards Norris.
And just when Norris didn't know how to react, two figures in black bodysuits suddenly appeared from the shadows and attacked these Sancti.
"With this death, I honor the Emperor! With this blood, I build His sacrament! I wield this blade, a blessing upon thee!"
The two shouted a cruel creed, hacking at the three Sancti with the long knives in their hands.
For a moment, Norris was captivated by their fighting technique. The pair were like constantly leaping dancers, weaving around the Sancti, continuously delivering fatal slashes.
So, this was the level of combat skill ordinary humans could reach.
And Norris immediately joined the battle.
The Sancti's psionically venomous blades pierced the bodies of the two, but the sharp pain that Norris found unbearable seemed to have no effect on them at all; Norris couldn't see any sign of pain on their faces.
The two fought with a style that traded injury for injury, life for life, completely disregarding their own safety.
Under Norris's incredulous gaze, these two actually managed to cut down all three Sancti on the spot.
But the two of them were also at the end of their strength.
Wounds deep enough to show bone covered their bodies.
Norris heard them shouting the God-Emperor's name and also approached.
"Are you alright!"
Only when he got closer did Norris see that all the skin exposed outside their clothing was covered in various scars.
Their bodies also began to tremble uncontrollably from the severe pain.
But Norris could see no look of suffering on their faces.
"Are you a soldier of the Rogue Trader?" one asked.
"Yes! Who are you?"
"Tell the Rogue Trader that the High Priest of the Death Cult wishes to see him! Tell him to go to the sewage district of the underhive. Someone will be there to receive him."
Just as they finished speaking, these two Death Cult assassins raised the long swords in their hands and slit their own throats.
Although there was no expression on their faces, their bodies had already reached their limits. It was just that their long-term self-mutilation had given them a terrifyingly high tolerance for pain.
Blood from their necks splattered all over Norris.
He even saw a look of satisfaction on their faces – satisfaction with their own deaths.
"The Death Cult… as fanatical as the rumors say…"
Norris had also heard of this extremist cult in Footfall; they also existed there, though he had never seen them in person. But from time to-time, he would hear of someone being killed by the Death Cult.
Norris opened his communication system again and told Lucan this news. But as soon as he finished, the continuous sound of bolter fire erupted from not far away.
Norris knew that this sound of battle was definitely from the Word Bearers he had been tracking; only that group of Word Bearers would use such heavy boltguns.
At this moment, it wasn't just Norris who was being hunted in the underhive; those two powerful Word Bearers had also become targets of a hunt.
Norris cloaked again and approached the direction of the fighting sounds.
He moved slowly, hiding in a nearby building ruin. At this time, the two Word Bearers had been completely surrounded by a huge swarm of Genestealers.
Even if they could achieve perfect accuracy, even if they could easily kill approaching Genestealers with their combat skills, even beings as powerful as Space Marines had their limits.
Their power armor was riddled with holes from gunfire. One Word Bearer had even lost an arm, and the other's helmet had been blown apart, revealing a face that already resembled a skull.
Even as traitors, these Chaos Space Marines still retained their hatred for xenos.
"Xenos! Die!"
They killed one Genestealer after another. The morale of both sides was locked; the only possible outcome was for one side to be completely annihilated.
Ultimately, the Genestealers won. A Genestealer of the "killer-strain," who had been lurking in the shadows seeking an opportunity, fired a high-energy laser from a high position behind the battlefield, piercing through the head of the helmetless Word Bearer.
And having lost his companion's cover, the remaining Word Bearer could no longer fend off attacks from all directions.
A plasma blast from behind destroyed this Word Bearer's last functioning heart.
And after dealing with the two Word Bearers, the remaining Genestealers quickly began to clear the area, carrying away the bodies of their comrades. An Aberrant Hypermorph then shouldered the corpses of the Word Bearers and headed towards the hive bottom.
(End of Chapter)