Marines and Angels

"Hahaha! My chainsword hungers!" "Yield your lives!" Wielding bolters and brandishing chainswords, the Dragonscale Marines charged wave after wave toward Saint Michael. As products of the Empire's genetic modification technology, their method of assault differed starkly from that of ordinary soldiers. While others sprinted on two legs, they climbed into "sky cannons" and launched themselves through the air. Other Dragonscale Marines gripped wyvern talons with one hand, letting go as they neared Saint Michael, calculating their trajectory to plunge straight down. The mere impact of crashing into the ranks could inflict hundreds of casualties, smashing flesh-and-blood Thracian soldiers into paste and sending gore flying in all directions. *Boom!* Gangtie Kuangchao plummeted from the heavens, slamming onto the rampart with a thunderous roar and turning more than a dozen Thracian soldiers into landing cushions. "Hahaha! A wonderful day begins with boarding!" The man had thoroughly immersed himself in roleplay, forgetting his status as guild leader of the Machine Cult and turning into an outright warmonger. "What a beast!" "Quick, kill him!" "This godforsaken dragon minion! How did he get up here?!" Terrified as they were, the surrounding Thracian soldiers still rallied, firing with obsolete double-barreled hunting rifles that the Empire had phased out years ago. *Bang! Bang!* The scalding lead slugs slammed into Gangtie Kuangchao's powered exoskeleton armor, only to be deflected with ease without leaving so much as a scratch. "You dare fight back?" Gangtie Kuangchao raised an eyebrow. Lifting his bolter, he aimed the muzzle—whose caliber rivaled a small artillery cannon—at the Thracian soldiers. *Bang!* Muzzle flash flared. Before the shell even reached its targets, it burst into countless fragments, creating a storm of shrapnel that tore the panicked Thracian soldiers to ribbons. *Bang! Bang!* More deafening roars echoed. Gangtie Kuangchao fired several more rounds around him, sending another wave of gore flying as a fan-shaped field of fire shredded everything nearby. "Amaunator save us... A monster, he's an absolute monster!" "Don't go near him!" "Sun God above, how can something like this exist? Not even bullets can hurt him!" Confronted by the mangled remains of their comrades, the Thracian soldiers finally lost all courage. Palefaced and trembling at the knees, they fell back involuntarily, instinctively trying to put distance between themselves and the monster before them. "Tsk, tsk. This is the exact feeling I wanted." Gangtie Kuangchao blew the smoke from his muzzle, drew his chainsword, and grinned ferociously. "Since you're too scared to come at me, I'll come to you!" He leapt forward, plunging straight into the chaotic crowd. "Gods above!" "He's coming this way!" Faced with the charging Dragonscale Marine, the Thracian soldiers scattered like a terrified flock of sheep, gripped by sheer panic. "Hraah!" Bursting with ferocious momentum, Gangtie Kuangchao threw a heavy punch. The Thracian soldier before him had his head burst like a watermelon, red and white matter splashing across the stones. Immediately after, he seized another soldier by the neck and hurled him straight off the towering rampart. "No, no! Help—" The soldier wailed in terror, but within seconds, a heavy thud echoed from the ground below, and silence claimed him. Surrounding soldiers fled in sheer terror, shoving past one another amidst nonstop weeping and screams. Yet some Thracian soldiers recognized the reality and fought back desperately. Slashing a blade toward the Dragonscale Marine's back, one gritted his teeth and roared, "Kill him! Fight to the death! If we don't bring this bastard down, none of us will survive!" "Right! Together! I refuse to believe this thing has no weakness!" In an instant, several sabers and longswords swung in unison toward Gangtie Kuangchao's back, aiming for vital spots like his neck and head. "Come at me! Time for some battlefield musou!" Gangtie Kuangchao laughed heartily, whirling around as his chainsword revved at high speed, sweeping horizontally behind him. *Screeech—* The scalp-numbing sound of tearing flesh and bone echoed across the wall. Like ripping through damp rags, the chainsword sheared the Thracian ambushers in two at the waist. Blood erupted from the severed torsos, spraying across Gangtie Kuangchao's face. "Glorious! Absolutely glorious!" Bathed in blood, Gangtie Kuangchao surged through the crowd like a Chosen of Bhaal, slaughtering indiscriminately. *Bzzzt—* Another diagonal slash came down. The high-speed teeth tore through meat and bone, cleaving away a Thracian soldier's shoulder and most of his upper torso, sending viscera spilling onto the stones. This was the Dragonscale Marines' ultimate aesthetic of violence, striking visceral, primal terror straight into the souls of these mortal soldiers. "Monster!" "Amaunator..." By now, the soldiers could muster no thought of resistance, paralyzed by primal dread. *Bang!* Another booming blast rang out as fire flashed from the bolter. Thracian soldiers collapsed in heaps before him, lifeless. With the soldiers around him slaughtered, Gangtie Kuangchao turned his glowing eyes toward another group. "W-what is he doing?" "You've got to be kidding me..." The targeted soldiers froze, knees knocking; they had just witnessed the monster's brutal massacre with their own eyes. *Boom!!* A dark silhouette swept through the air as Gangtie Kuangchao roared with laughter, "Come on! Who dares fight me?!" Under the assault of the Dragonscale Marines, several weak breaches had already opened along the walls of Saint Michael, piled high with corpses. Meanwhile, the Empire's bombardment intensified. Wyverns laden with ordnance swooped across the sky again and again, dropping a rain of bombs. Continuous detonations terrified the people hiding within the city, leaving them cowering and trembling in corners. Then, airships resembling colossal whales swept across the heavens, linking together to cast vast shadows that cloaked the city below. Whenever Thracian soldiers showed their heads, they were met by volleys from elemental laser cannons and machine guns mounted beneath the airship hulls, blown to pieces with nowhere left to bury their remains. "Help..." "Gods, save us..." Cowering in city corners, Thracian soldiers could only pray despairingly to their deity, begging for salvation. Soon, heavy footsteps rumbled as massive suits of mechanized armor strode down the streets, lowering their frames and leveling autocannons deep into the alleys. *Bang!* "Blasphemers! You will all be judged!" A furious voice rang out from above. An angelic godblood flapped his wings with vigor, swinging a flaming longsword to unleash arcs of golden blade-light. Wyverns soaring in the sky had their wings sheared off, steam tanks rumbling across the ground were sliced in two, and even Dragonscale Marines fighting amidst the crowd had their heads lopped off. "Surround her!" "That's the enemy duchess!" "Get over here! There's a huge mob! Level hidden!" In an instant, hundreds of players swarmed forward, brandishing blades and unleashing spells of fire, lightning, and frost against the angelic godblood. Some players even clung directly to the angelic godblood's body, piling on three layers deep to envelop him completely. "Judgment—!" Livid with rage, the angelic godblood raised his longsword, golden flames erupting from his eyes. *Whoosh—* In an instant, his wings snapped wide. Ten thousand rays of blinding golden light blazed forth, incinerating the players clinging around him until they were reduced to ash. Yet soon enough, more Imperial soldiers and players closed in on the angelic godblood, pouring down countless bullets and shells. *Bang!* A bullet etched with penetrating magic pierced his wing, sending golden-red blood spraying as bloodstained feathers drifted from the sky. Like an enraged beast at bay, the angelic godblood whipped around and bellowed, "Foolish mortals, you court death—" Before he could finish, a silver arrow punched through his shield at a tricky angle, piercing his shoulder. The arrowhead detonated within his flesh, charring half his body black. The angelic godblood roared in agony, but the players showed no mercy, their attacks turning ever more vicious and underhanded. Clad in heavy scale armor and bearing massive tower shields, Dragon Oath Paladins held the front to draw the godblood's attacks, while archers, wizards, sorcerers, and other ranged classes behind them poured out frantic damage. For instance, the notorious rogue player Heiye Shipian wielded a hand crossbow exuding viscous black mist, aiming specifically below the belt—and surprisingly, it actually worked. *Thwack—* A pitch-black bolt sliced through the air and hit bullseye, embedding itself straight into the angelic godblood's backside. The angelic godblood's face contorted, first with humiliation and embarrassment, then with incandescent fury. His entire body shook violently, even the wings at his back quivering. "Hit!" Heiye Shipian beamed with delight and couldn't help cheering. "You shameless scum! You should be trapped in the holy fire of the sun and burned for eternity, your very soul vaporized!" Enduring the barrage of attacks, the angelic godblood flapped his battered wings, lunging frantically at Heiye Shipian. A single sword stroke decapitated the rogue, blood spraying ten feet into the air. "Holy crap?!" The watching players were stunned, marveling that one of the famous "Four Bastards" could draw aggro to such an absurd degree. Right then, a resounding dragon roar echoed overhead. Singo swooped down from the heavens atop a wyvern, drawing his longbow to full extension as a magical mark appeared over the angelic godblood's chest. Severely wounded, the godblood could barely dodge now. He could only raise his flaming sword, glaring wrathfully at the distant players. *Whoosh—* Accompanied by a roar of thunder, a glowing arrow tore through the sky, streaking like a meteor straight toward the angelic godblood's chest. At last, the terrifying arrow ruthlessly pierced his chest, penetrating the angelic godblood's beating heart to deliver the finishing blow. "How could this be..." The angelic godblood spat out a mouthful of golden blood and dropped to one knee, the wings on his back drooping limply. They were merely a rabble of lowly mortals—how could they kill a noble godblood like him? "Holy crap, the boss is about to drop!" "Sing-dog again!" "I swear to God, we bust our asses for half the day, and he still KSes it!" "Hurry and pump damage, maybe we can leech some XP!" "Get good and practice more. You can't secure the kill and blame me? Why don't you reflect on your own problems?" Singo sneered as he circled overhead, then wheeled his wyvern around and flew off. Fuming with frustration, the remaining players unleashed a flurry of attacks on the dying angelic godblood, venting their rage. Unexpectedly, divine radiance suddenly flared in the angelic godblood's eyes. A dazzling brilliance shone from his heart, illuminating his body until it was nearly translucent as a titanic surge of energy rippled outward. "That's—" "The boss is self-destructing!" "Run!" The surrounding players blanched in horror, but there was no time left to dodge. With a blinding flash, the divine power core within the angelic godblood detonated. A torrent of energy engulfed everything around him, blasting a massive crater into the rampart. *** "My Lady, let us leave! We must get out of here!" "Yet... this is Saint Michael, the kingdom's eastern bastion! If Saint Michael falls, the Cinder Empire's armies will threaten Auguste—they will threaten His Majesty!" Tirena still hesitated. She had come bearing Wilhelm's orders. If Saint Michael fell on her watch, her prestige within the kingdom would take a devastating blow. Just then, Misha spotted Tirena in the distance. Mounted atop Smaug, she pointed aggressively at the angelic godblood: "Pursue! That is Thrace's godblood duchess, Wilhelm's confidante! Do not let her escape!" *Boom!* With a resounding crack in the air, a fireball brimming with volatile energy came hurtling from afar. Tirena snapped her broad wings inward, shielding herself against the incoming fireball. Beside her, another angelic godblood fought desperately against attacking wyverns, shouting in urgent entreaty: "Duchess, Saint Michael can no longer be held! We must return to Auguste and see King Wilhelm! "Your life is far more important than Saint Michael! Only angelic godbloods—only the power of Lord Amaunator—can save Thrace!" "Fall back!" Tirena gritted her teeth as she looked at the pursuing Imperial soldiers, then raised her flaming sword high. A pillar of radiance erupted from the tip of the blade, shooting straight into the heavens. As a melodious sacred hymn resounded, space churned violently around them. "Lock down the surrounding space!" Misha commanded sharply, waving her slender hand as countless chains bound space itself, solidifying the Weave. "Mere minions of an evil dragon dare bar my path?! I am Lord Amaunator's chosen, Duchess of Thrace!" The divine power unleashed from Tirena's blade was peerless. In an instant, blinding radiance pierced the canopy of the sky, and the angelic godbloods dissolved into holy brilliance, vanishing from the spot. When Misha arrived, the angelic godbloods were nowhere to be found, leaving behind only devastation. Mounted atop Smaug, Misha looked down upon the battered, cratered Saint Michael, watching the soldiers wailing amidst the acrid smoke, her gaze icy: "Your so-called Thrace will soon... cease to exist beneath the iron hooves of the Empire."