Chapter 9: The Hero's Final Journey
Clang—
A heavy sound echoed—the noise of the Apothecary collapsing to his knees.
Naturally, this caught Arthur’s attention. He scanned the battlefield, confirming there were no living enemies left. Shaking the blood off his arm, he lowered his shield and reached out to support the Apothecary.
Snap—
But the Apothecary shook off Arthur’s hand and then pulled a long, narrow box from behind him, pressing it heavily into Arthur’s palm.
“Sir.”
His blurred gaze shifted away from the gleaming armor and shield. The Apothecary spoke.
His voice was ragged, clearly the massive wound in his chest had severed his airway.
“...”
Arthur wanted to tell him this wasn’t the time to talk—that he should lie down and tend to his wound. But seeing the gaping wound almost splitting the Apothecary in two, slowly bleeding outward, he was at a loss.
“This is... the legacy of my brothers. I... cough... have guarded their honor.”
Arthur knelt on one knee. He noticed the nearly hollowed-out Deathwatch warriors around them, then looked at the box in his hand still emanating a chill. He roughly pieced together the nature of this duel.
After the Star Marines of the Tyrannical Warband won, they used the bodies of the fallen to forge this arena. The Apothecary, as the arena’s defender, would face one heretical challenger after another. The prize: the gene-seed of a fallen brother and a stronger opponent.
Yet both the Apothecary and those gene-seeds were merely parts of a profane ritual.
The moment the Apothecary failed, he and the gene-seeds he had won would be sacrificed to the Blood God, becoming part of the power granted to the sacrificer.
It was a duel doomed to end in failure.
But now, in this very moment, as his life was about to ebb away—
Suddenly, a warrior descended from the sky, disrupting the blasphemous ritual. Countless explosives rained down, dragging the so-called victorious spectators back into a bloody battlefield.
The fiery explosions reflected in Severis’s eyes. In a haze, he seemed to glimpse a cold sun.
He had won.
“Mm.”
Arthur nodded solemnly.
He reached out to take the gene-seed, but found his hand immobile.
“Sir, please swear.”
Severis met Arthur’s gaze weakly and said, “You shall be loyal to the Emperor, fighting for humanity until the last moment.”
Arthur could not fathom how he still had the strength to speak.
He was silent for a moment, then nodded earnestly.
“...I swear.”
“You shall keep the secret of the Brotherhood’s gene-seed to your dying breath, never allowing heretics to glimpse even a fraction.”
“I swear.”
“You shall carve a path of blood through countless enemies, reach your brothers, and even if it costs your last drop of blood, bring back their honor!”
“I swear.”
“Ha—”
Severis exhaled deeply, as if all his strength had just left him, his hand lightly sinking on the gene-seed.
“Sir, for the Emperor... for Macragge...”
Arthur listened patiently until the frail voice faded away, until his superhuman senses told him that this body no longer stirred.
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