Dark Disciple(科幻战争)-第24部分

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more　than　a　shadowy　blur；　and　he　narrowed　his　eyes　and　allowed　the　daemon　Drak’shal　to　rear　up
within　him。
The　eldar　vehicle　speared　through　the　air　like　a　dart；　jinking　around　the　burnt…out　hulls　of
Imperial　vehicles；　dodging　the　blanket　of　incoming　fire。
It　straightened　and　gunned　its　engines；　accelerating　directly　towards　Burias…Drak’shal　and
Magos　Darioq；　who　stood　immobile　behind　him；　apparently　unconcerned　by　the　carnage。
The　cannons；　under…slung　beneath　the　chassis　of　the　jetbike；　roared；　spitting　a　stream　of　splinters
towards　the　possessed　warrior；　but　he　was　already　moving；　springing　into　the　air；　the　heavy　icon　of
the　Host　held　in　one　hand　as　if　it　weighed　nothing　at　all。
The　fire　of　the　jetbike’s　cannons　flashed　towards　Darioq；　but　a　glowing　sphere　of　light
surrounded　him；　and　they　rebounded　off　the　energy　barrier　to　leave　him　unscathed。
Burias…Drak’shal　leapt　over　the　elegantly　tapering　faring　of　the　jetbike；　his　taloned　hand　locking
around　the　eldar　rider’s　throat　and　ripping　him　from　his　saddle。　The　riderless　bike　veered　sharply
and　flipped；　exploding　against　the　tunnel　wall　as　Burias…Drak’shal　landed　in　a　crouch；　the　eldar
warrior　helpless　in　his　grasp。
Lifting　the　eldar　as　if　he　was　a　child；　Burias…Drak’shal　slammed　its　head　into　a　corner　of　scrap
metal；　once　part　of　an　Imperial　vehicle。　Its　head　splattered；　the　frail　skull　splintering　like　porcelain。
“Weakling　thing；”　commented　Burias…Drak’shal；　flicking　the　corpse　away　from　him。
A　blade　rammed　into　his　back；　and　Burias…Drak’shal　roared　in　anger　and　pain。　The　blade　was
wrenched　agonisingly　against　his　spine　and　he　twisted；　swinging　the　icon　around　in　a　lethal　arc。
The　blow　didn’t　hit　anything；　indeed；　there　did　not　seem　to　be　anything　behind　him。　With　his
witch…sight；　he　registered　a　shadowy　shape　in　the　corner　of　his　vision；　and　then　twisted　away　as　a
blade　stabbed　towards　him　once　again；　putting　some　space　between　him　and　his　nigh…on　invisible
assailant。
His　eyes　narrowed　as　they　locked　on　a　lean；　ghostlike　figure。　It　became　visible　for　a　second；
taunting　him；　and　he　saw　a　slim　figure；　its　skin　as　black　as　pitch；　with　arcane　sigils　cut　into　its　flesh。
Its　eyes　were　milky　white；　with　no　pupils；　and　it　snarled　at　him；　exposing　a　maw　filled　with　tiny；
barbed　teeth。
Then　the　figure　was　nothing　more　than　a　shadow　again；　a　vague　ghostly　shape　that　surged
towards　him　in　a　blur　of　motion。　Burias…Drak’shal　swung　his　icon　like　a　hammer；　the　spiked　tip
humming　as　it　arced　through　the　air。　The　shadow…creature　ducked　beneath　the　blow　and　came　up
inside　his　guard；　and　Burias…Drak’shal　hissed　in　pain　as　a　blade　rammed　into　his　side。
Burias…Drak’shal　connected　with　a　heavy　backhand　blow　that　sent　the　shadow…creature　tumbling
backwards。　It　came　to　rest　on　all　fours；　and　its　form　once　more　became　visible　as　it　snarled　up　at　him
in　hatred。　Then　it　was　gone；　disappearing　into　thin　air　as　if　a　veil　had　been　drawn　over　it。
Burias…Drak’shal　experienced　an　unfamiliar　emotion：　unease。
The　creature　had　seemed　at　once　familiar　and　alien。　He　thought　he　had　scented　the　power　of　the
warp　within　its　being；　but　the　creature　had　been　no　daemon；　nor　truly　one　of　the　possessed。
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His　slit　eyes　flicked　from　side　to　side；　wary　for　another　sudden　attack；　but　none　came。　He
slammed　the　butt　of　his　icon　into　the　floor；　cracking　the　plascrete　platform；　and　roared　his　defiance。
Marduk　heard　the　roar；　but　pushed　it　out　of　his　mind　as　he　drew　his　chainsword；　feeling　the　ecstatic
bond　as　the　daemon　weapon　melded　with　him。　Thorns　in　the　hilt　burrowed　into　the　flesh　of　his　palm
through　the　plugs　in　his　gauntlet；　and　he　surged　towards　the　eldar　warriors。
The　disciplined　warriors　of　the　13th　coterie　responded　instantly　to　his　rallying　cry；　rising　from
cover　with　bolters　thumping。　They　began　to　advance　on　the　enemy；　bearing　down　on　them；　moving
in　two　unstoppable　phalanxes；　the　zones　of　their　fire…arcs　overlapping。
Each　of　the　coteries　had　been　joined　by　one　of　the　Anointed；　and　these　behemoths　of　muscle　and
metal　stomped　forwards；　shaking　off　the　fire　directed　against　them　and　snapping　off　bursts　from
their　twin…linked　bolters。
The　closest　enemy　was　less　than　twenty　metres　away；　and　still；　foolishly　Marduk　thought；
advancing　towards　the　Word　Bearers。
“Slaughter　the　unbelievers！”　roared　Marduk；　breaking　into　a　run；　his　bolt　pistol　bucking　in　his
hands　as　he　fired。
The　warriors　of　the　13th　moved　up　in　support；　snapping　off　shots　as　they　bore　down　on　the
enemy。
Marduk　saw　two　of　the　enemy　ripped　apart　by　bolt　fire。　One…bolt　round　detonated　in　the
shoulder　of　one　of　the　eldar　figures；　ripping　its　arm　clear　in　a　spray　of　blood；　and　another　was　torn　in
two　as　a　burst　of　fire　caught　it　in　its　slender　midsection。
A　spray　of　splinters　embedded　themselves　in　Marduk’s　chest　plate；　but　he　did　not　slow　his
charge；　and　pumped　another　burst　of　shots　towards　a　pair　of　eldar　raiders。　Displaying　inhuman
speed；　they　darted　to　the　side　and　his　shots　went　wide；　ripping　chunks　out　of　the　wall。
He　roared　his　hatred　as　he　closed　on　one　of　the　eldar；　and　swung　his　chainsword　in　a　murderous
arc　that　would　have　cleaved　the　frail　warrior　in　two　had　it　connected。　The　eldar　swayed　under　the
blow　with　a　speed　that；　for　all　his　Astartes　genetic　coding　and　training；　made　Marduk　feel　slow　and
awkward；　and　slashed　a　groove　across　Marduk’s　thigh　with　the　curving　bayonet　blade　beneath　the
barrel　of　its　rifle。
The　blade　bit　into　his　flesh；　and　Marduk　hissed　in　anger。　He　threw　a　backhanded　slash　towards
the　eldar’s　midsection；　the　hungry　teeth　of　his　chainsword　whirring　madly。　The　black…armoured
figure　dodged　backwards；　the　very　tip　of　the　chainsword　scant　centimetres　from　its　belly；　and
stabbed　with　the　tip　of　its　blade　towards　Marduk’s　throat。
The　First　Acolyte　twisted　his　body　as　the　blade　darted　towards　him；　and　its　length　sank　into　his
shoulder　plate。　Punching　with　his　right　hand；　which　held　his　bolt　pistol；　Marduk　snapped　the　blade
off；　leaving　the　tip　embedded　in　his　armour。　Dropping　his　shoulder；　he　threw　himself　forward；
slamming　into　the　frail　xenos　warrior　even　as　it　tried　to　sidestep。
The　force　of　the　blow　shattered　the　eldar’s　chest；　and　Marduk　bore　it　to　the　ground。　He　smashed
the　pommel　of　his　chainsword　into　the　raider’s　face；　driving　it　downwards　like　a　blunt　dagger；
smashing　the　faceplate　of　its　helmet　into　splinters　and　pulverising　its　skull。
Rising；　his　chest　heaving；　Marduk　grunted　as　a　blade　stabbed　into　his　side；　sliding　between　his
armour　plates　and　burying　itself　deep　in　his　flesh。　Dropping　his　bolt　pistol；　he　grabbed　the　arm　of　his
attacker；　crushing　the　slender　bones　of　its　forearm。　It　struggled　to　get　away　from　him；　but　his　grip
was　like　iron；　keeping　it　pinned　in　place；　and　he　hacked　his　chainsword　into　its　neck。
Whirring　teeth　shredded　through　black　armour　and　blood　began　to　spray　as　Marduk　forced　the
weapon　into　the　alien’s　body。　It　ripped　through　tightly　bound　muscle　and　sinew；　and　tore　apart　the
delicate　vertebrae　of　the　eldar’s　neck。　With　a　heavy　kick；　Marduk　sent　the　dead　eldar　flying　away
from　him；　and　dropped　to　one　knee　to　retrieve　his　bolt　pistol。
Hefting　the　pistol；　Marduk　found　no　new　target　to　unleash　his　wrath　upon。　The　eldar　slipped
away　into　the　shadows　with　ungodly　speed；　moving　like　shadows　being　dispelled　by　the　appearance
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of　a　lantern。　They　were　gone　in　an　instant；　and　Marduk　stood　breathing　heavily　as　he　surveyed　the
carnage　of　the　frantic　battle。
The　fight　had　lasted　less　than　a　minute；　all　told；　but　the　savagery；　swiftness　and　effectiveness　of
the　attack　was　staggering。
Three　members　of　the　13th　were　down；　one　of　them　not　moving　as　blood　poured　from　a　wound
to　his　head；　too　severe　for　the　potent　larraman　cells　of　his　Astartes　make…up　to　seal。　Two　members
of　Khalaxis’s　17th　coterie　were　dead；　two　more　injured。　Nine　eldar　had　been　slain；　and　three　more
had　been　injured　and　callously　abandoned　by　their　brethren。
Marduk　strode　towards　one　of　the　injured　lean　warriors。　Its　left　leg　had　been　blown　off　at　the
knee；　and　it　was　trying　to　crawl　away；　leaving　a　bloody　smear　on　the　floor　beneath　it。
Marduk　placed　his　foot　on　the　lower　back　of　the　wounded　eldar；　pinning　it　in　place　as　Kol　Badar
stalked　to　his　side。　The　black　armour　was　curiously　soft　and　pliable　beneath　his　foot；　but　as　he
exerted　more　pressure　he　felt　it　strengthen　and　grow　rigid；　resisting　him。　He　kicked　the　eldar　over
onto　its　back；　and　it　stared　up　at　him　through　elongated　eye　lenses。　Its　hatred　of　him　was　palpable；
and　its　hand　flashed　down　to　its　thigh；　reaching　for　a　jagged　blade　strapped　around　its　lean　limb。
Its　movement　was　crisp　and　precise；　and　the　blade　was　flashing　towards　Marduk’s　throat。　He
caught　the　eldar’s　wrist　and　gave　it　a　wrench；　breaking　its　slender　bones　with　a　snap；　and　it　dropped
the　blade　to　the　ground；　hissing。
“I’ve　never　seen　their　faces；”　said　Marduk；　pinning　the　eldar’s　broken　arm　beneath　his　knee　and
reaching　for　its　helmet；　ignoring　the　feeble　attempts　by　the　xenos　humanoid　to　fight　him　off　as　he
tried　to　work　out　the　best　way　to　remove　it。　Growing　quickly　frustrated；　he　simply　hooked　the
fingers　of　both　hands　under　the　lip　of　the　helmet　around　the　eldar’s　scrawny　neck　and　pulled。　With　a
wrench；　he　ripped　the　helmet　in　two；　almost　breaking　the　alien’s　neck　in　the　process。
The　First　Acolyte　tossed　the　ruptured　helmet　aside　as　he　stared　down　at　the　revealed　face。
It　was　unnaturally　long　and　thin；　ethereal　and　otherworldly。　High　cheekbones　and　a　pointed　chin
gave　it　a　severe；　angular　shape　that　was　at　once　delicate　and　darkly　handsome；　yet　utterly　alien。　Its
head　was　bereft　of　hair；　and　sharp；　jagged　runes　or　glyphs　of　xenos　origin；　similar　in　shape　to　the
elegant　blades　of　the　eldar；　were　tattooed　across　the　left　half　of　its　face。　Its　lips　were　thin　and
sneering；　and　its　eyes　were　shaped　like　almonds；　elegant；　alien　and　filled　with　hate。
“It’s　a　frail　as　a　woman；”　said　Marduk。　“Reminds　me　of　Fulgrim’s　Legionaries。”
Kol　Badar　snorted。
Although　the　III　Legion；　the　Emperor’s　Children；　were　mighty　warriors　and　had　wisely　thrown
their　weight　in　behind　the　Warmaster　and　embraced　Chaos；　there　was　no　love　lost　between　the　Word
Bearers　and　the　Emperor’s　Children。
Where　the　Word　Bearers　were　severe；　their　lives　dominated　by　ritual；　prayer　and　penance；　the
Emperor’s　Children　were　renowned　for　their　flamboyant　decadence；　embracing　excess　in　all　its
guises。　Where　the　Word　Bearers　worshipped　Chaos　in　all　its　varied　manifestations；　the　Emperor’s
Children　dedicated　themselves　solely　to　the　darkling　prince　of　Chaos：　Slaanesh。
The　eldar　glared　up　at　Marduk　hatefully。
“I　agree；　yet　they　are　a　worthy　foe；”　said　Kol　Badar。
“Worthy？　They　are　xenos。　They　deserve　nothing　more　than　extermination；”　replied　Marduk。
“I　do　not　disagree；”　said　Kol　Badar；　“but　it　does　my　soul　good　to　fight　against　an　enemy　that　can
at　least　test　us。”
“Their　tainted；　alien　weaponry　is　potent；”　agreed　Marduk；　reluctantly；　gripping　the　eldar　roughly
behind　its　neck　with　one　hand。　He　raised　his　fist。
“And　they　are　certainly　quick；”　said　Marduk。　slamming　his　fist　down；　punching　through　the
eldar’s　face；　“but　they　break　easily　enough　once　you　get　a　hold　of　them。”　Marduk　shook　blood；　br