Under the cover of the Sisters of the Sacred Rose, who sacrificed their lives, the evacuation from the church was nearing its end.
The final defensive line was set up, and the warriors loyal to the Emperor would make their last stand under the gaze of the Sanguinius statue.
People chanted hymns of consecration, praying for the Emperor's warriors who protected them with their flesh.
Horatio gripped the sword in his hand, his lips trembling slightly.
He did not fear death, but he did not want to see the civilians behind him suffer the same fate.
The defenders numbered just over a hundred, forming a thin, long line across the church in the open area in front of the pulpit before the holy statue. The firing lines here would not be obstructed by the pews, and any demon that rushed into the open would be immediately shot down.
He understood that if he failed and the demons broke through the line, hundreds of thousands of people behind him would be slaughtered, becoming sacrifices to the Blood God, and the immense pressure of bearing the fate of hundreds of thousands of people made him feel suffocated.
This scene felt familiar to him. He recalled 'Hold the Line to the Death,' which he watched with Louise yesterday, and then a movie from his previous life called 'Nanjing! Nanjing!'
"I will never let suffering and tragedy repeat themselves, demons."
Louise noticed Horatio's anger and anxiety. She stood beside him, looking at the constantly battered and hacked silver gate, and said softly, "We stand together, holding the line to the death, sharing our fate."
The last few hundred people were descending from the second floor. The holy hall was packed, children jostling each other, quietly weeping with despair.
Because there wasn't enough space, many children could only stand under the Sanguinius statue, only 3 meters away from the final defensive line.
Thump!
The tall, heavy silver gate was suddenly rammed open, and the massive bolt instantly broke, falling to the ground.
Breaking through the gate was a brass-colored metal bull, looking like a mechanical construct, with a Bloodletter riding on it, wielding a Hellblade.
The people still descending the stairs instantly panicked, and the Soldiers still guarding the evacuation route stood in front of the crowd.
"Open fire! Stop them!" Horatio commanded.
Hellguns and bolters poured fire onto the enemy, killing the Bloodletter above.
Soon, thousands of Bloodletters surged in.
But the moment the first batch of Bloodletters entered the church, they burst into raging flames, turning into smoke.
However, the subsequent Bloodletters were no longer burned by faith; the panic in the crowd weakened the protection of the power of faith.
"Burn it! The Master will be pleased!" A large Bloodletter pointed at Sanguinius's holy statue and roared hoarsely.
The faithful picked up various weapons and fought back against the Bloodletters, preventing them from rushing towards Sanguinius's holy statue, but they fell one after another under the swings of the Hellblades.
"There's a child here, please, save her."
Horatio looked towards the source of the cry.
"The Bread seller couple?"
The woman held up her daughter, who was half her height, while the Bread seller stood in front of her with a small self-defense knife, facing the hideous Bloodletter.
The girl with heterochromatic eyes was flushed, her gaze hazy, and her consciousness seemed blurred.
The Bloodletter licked its tongue, looking hungrily at the girl, letting out a terrifying hiss.
It charged towards the girl, reaching out to snatch her, but the Bread seller cried out and stabbed it in the chest. As it recoiled, it was cut down by another Bloodletter's sword.
Horatio rushed into the crowd, and three Blood Angels also moved into the crowd to hold them back. They didn't want to watch a massacre unfold before them and the statue of their Gene-father.
They had to do something.
The last Hellspawns protecting the civilians fell, and the Bloodletter greedily drew its sword, immediately thrusting forward.
"Ah!" The Bread seller was impaled through the chest.
"My dear! No! Ugh…" The woman looked down at her chest. A long, black sword had pierced her husband, and also pierced her chest.
She gasped for breath, her arms holding the child growing weak.
Just as her hands slipped from the girl, the people in front picked up the unconscious girl, and countless hands lifted her, passing her forward.
The Bloodletters chased relentlessly from behind, cutting down anyone they saw.
The suffering fell like straw; everyone used their lives to extend the child's life, as if extending the future of humanity.
Finally, the girl was passed to the very front, and by the time she reached Horatio's arms, she was already unconscious.
"So cold…" The moment Horatio's iron hand touched the girl's skin, a bone-chilling cold instantly spread throughout his body.
Before he could think further, the hideous Bloodletter charged at him, utterly reckless.
Horatio's rage was burning fiercely. His iron hand worked at full power, and with one swing, he knocked away its Hellblade. Before it could be stunned by this mortal's strength, Horatio thrust his sword forward, piercing through its entire elongated head, impaling and banishing it.
The surrounding Bloodletters scurried wildly through the church, causing a series of commotions and chaos in the crowd.
"Fire at us! The Emperor and Sanguinius will redeem our souls!" A tearful cry came from the remaining crowd.
"What should we do?" A Cadia recruit looked at the veteran beside him.
The veteran let out a deep breath, picked up his Laser Gun, and put his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot the Bloodletters in the crowd.
If they didn't, and the Bloodletters broke out of the crowd and approached the defensive line, they might not be able to hold the attack, and many more people behind them would be slaughtered.
Louise's aim was precise, and she shot down the Bloodletters approaching Horatio with all her might, covering him as he retreated with the child to the defensive line.
The crowd screamed in despair, the last few hundred people who had come down from upstairs were running towards the defensive line.
A pregnant mother, holding a three-year-old infant, ran with difficulty, tears streaming down her face, almost caught by the Bloodletters.
The woman could even hear the demons' sneers; the infant's cries made these detestable killers eager to hear screams of despair.
With just one swing of a sword, they could claim three heads. This was undoubtedly a huge temptation.
The limping Blood Angel at the very back stopped after hearing the infant's cries. Blood continuously gushed from his thigh.
His leg had been severely wounded in the previous battle, and extreme Bloodletter was destroying his sanity. He was barely able to suppress this terrifying genetic flaw, his eyes turning blood red, almost unable to distinguish friend from foe.
This Blood Angel knew very well that he might become the culprit who destroyed the entire defensive line. He had mistakenly killed friendly forces more than once in battle.
He did not want to disgrace the noble virtues his Gene-father had taught the Blood Angels under his Gene-father's gaze.
The Blood Angel looked up, met the gaze of his Gene-father's statue, and then resolutely turned his head.
Wearing MK7 Aquila Power Armor, he unhesitatingly charged behind the pregnant woman, cutting down the Bloodletters pursuing her, and providing cover for the civilians who had not yet run to the safe zone.
The Cadia veteran's finger on the trigger relaxed, signaling his companions not to fire, waiting for the Blood Angel to cover the civilians' retreat.
That Blood Angel swung his Chainsword, and in a few blurs, he cut down dozens of Bloodletters. Then he raised his hand, grabbed a Bloodletter that was lunging at the infant's mother, and crushed it alive with one hand.
The Cadia Soldiers pushed open a section of the Adeptus Arbites's steel breastplate, and civilians successively retreated through the gap.
But this Blood Angel was surrounded by Bloodletters in the very center, like an isolated island.
Suddenly, the injured Blood Angel let out a painful grunt.
Already wounded, he had his arm severed by a Bloodletter's sword from all directions.
"Brother Phislowen!" Roman Roland shouted, rushing towards his battle-brother.
"Go back! Brother Roman Roland." The one-armed brother shouted, wielding his Chainsword with a single hand, fighting the Bloodletters.
Horatio remembered that name; he was the brother who, after the Bloodletter on the plague ship, grabbed David Beatty von Ravensburg, preparing to drink his blood.
The one-armed Blood Angel finally met Horatio's eyes, as if wanting to say something to him.
"I am not a beast." He stopped, turned his head, looked at the demons in front of him, swung his sword to block the Bloodletters, and covered the last few civilians behind him as they ran back.
"I am his offspring, the blood of Sanguinius flows in my veins, and I will use my life to protect the people he once guarded, under my Gene-father's gaze!"
The brass bull, which had been charging towards the mobile breastplate, turned its horns, knocked over pews, and charged towards this Blood Angel.
Brother Phislowen used his body to block the brass bull's charge, then backhanded a sword into the brass bull's head, ending the engine core of this line-breaker in the steaming high-temperature fumes.
The Bloodletter above jumped at him, but he also cut it down mid-air with a sword.
The one-armed Blood Angel, driving his broken body, slashed at the demons, and by himself, cleared the high-threat targets for the final defensive line, greatly alleviating the pressure on the line.
But his injured leg was broken by the bull's horn, making him completely unable to stand. The Bloodletters swarmed him, like a red tide of blood, engulfing the brother.
"Brother Phislowen!" Roman Roland roared heartbrokenly. He wanted to rush over but was held back by another battle-brother.
Finally, he saw a scene that made his pupils tremble.
His battle-brother's lifeless helmet was cut off, and the excited Bloodletters surged towards the gap, wanting to present their master with the coveted trophy.
Brother Roman Roland was filled with grief and indignation. Finally, his sorrow turned into rage. He raised his gun and blew off his battle-brother's head, along with the Bloodletter holding his head aloft.
The Bloodletters surged onto the defensive line. Horatio handed the girl to Sister Arabella for care, then immediately turned back to battle.
In front of the defensive line, there were no more civilians. The defending Soldiers could confidently sweep the demon legion, and the mobile shields brought by the Adeptus Arbites had also been assembled, forming a barrier wall in front of the defensive line.
The booming sounds of various weapons echoed throughout the church, pouring down a rain of fire upon the blasphemous demons under the gaze of the Sanguinius statue, fueled by grief and the fury of revenge.
Horatio could hear the gunfire of distant reinforcements drawing closer.
Hope had arrived. But the demon's offensive also intensified.
A terrifying roar came, and the last massive brass bull, driven by a Bloodletter, charged straight towards the defensive line.
Brother Roman Roland gritted his teeth, stood at the very front, and took a stance, ready for battle.
Lasers simply could not stop this demonic construct. As the brass bull got closer and closer.
Brother Roman Roland bit his lip until it bled, drinking his own blood.
"For my brother… pay with your life!" He roared, his deafening war cry pushing back the Bloodletters accompanying the brass bull's charge, even activating the active noise cancellation in the Hellspawns' helmets.
These chapters might feel a bit depressing, but! The dawn is coming soon! Hold on!
(The extent of tragedy I can write is only this much. I mainly inflict it on nameless characters. I can't bring myself to be harsher on others.
Female characters with romantic lines will at most be injured, but no one will ever die.
Named male supporting characters will only be severely injured at most, generally not dying, and then they'll get advanced prosthetics to be strengthened.
If a beloved male supporting character tragically sacrifices himself in future plots, they will mostly return later. Everyone doesn't need to worry about this.
I will stick to the principle of not tormenting the protagonist. Even if the protagonist is injured, it's only to suppress emotions for a climax. There will be no real disability; wherever he is injured, that part will be strengthened by ancient technology later.)