This is the Bonus Chapter for reaching 1400 Powerstones.
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Zeke smashed his way through and arrived beside Dante.
The Swarm Lord's bone sabre slashed towards Dante, the bio-field shimmering on the blade which was less than half a meter from Dante's neck.
Dante felt the approaching death. He raised his head and looked at the falling bone blade.
To Zeke's surprise, there was only a smile of relief on Dante's face.
Since the Primarch fell, Dante had taken up the burden. He led the Blood Angels Chapter, defending the Imperium time and again, repelling enemies time and again.
But he was not a Primarch after all. 1,500 years of service and overtime had left this warrior exhausted.
And now, he could finally rest.
He had found something that could cure the Black Rage; that young man named Zeke had brought a miraculous drink. He also brought news of Ultramarines reinforcements—Guilliman was alive and on his way. There was still hope for Baal. He had fulfilled his duties perfectly.
Finally, I can clock out.
Dante was certain this was the last time. He was happy. Darkness assailed him, and Dante opened his arms to welcome it.
But Zeke disagreed.
Why are you people so selfish? Always thinking about retirement, just like that old man Creed.
Zeke controlled his strength, grabbed Dante, and pulled him out of the Swarm Lord's attack range.
The bone claws embedded deeply into the ground. The Swarm Lord first felt confusion, then reacted as if facing a formidable enemy.
It's an enemy. Where?
The Swarm Lord's compound eyes, composed of countless smaller eyes, searched frantically.
Zeke glanced at his status bar. Speed 255 was displayed in the Buff bar as [Speed ∞]. Two and a half minutes remained—more than enough.
While carrying Dante to a safe place, Zeke used his left hand to clear the way with the lance and his right hand to hoist Dante onto his shoulder.
With a gust of wind, Zeke stepped into the Arx Angelicum, placed Dante on the ground, and took out an Enchanted Golden Apple.
"The Blood Angels still need you, Dante."
Zeke stuffed the Enchanted Golden Apple into Dante's mouth, but Dante's mouth was tightly shut, resisting the apple.
In his hallucination, Dante saw the person he had been longing for day and night. A glorious Archangel stood beside him.
"My son," Sanguinius said.
"My greatest son." The Primarch reached out to Dante, but Dante remained on the ground.
As the Primarch wept, his tears fell onto Dante's face.
"For humanity, you have suffered great pain," Sanguinius said. "I failed to fulfill my responsibilities as a Primarch and a father."
"Forgive me, Dante." Sanguinius's fingers brushed the lines of Dante's cheek. The wings spreading behind him were covered in white feathers, wrapping around Dante.
Dante felt warmth after so long, a sense of peaceful and holy joy.
"Please." Dante's voice was soft, as if afraid to disturb this beauty.
"I have served for so long. Please grant me the release of death. Let me serve by your side."
Sanguinius gave Dante a look of deep sorrow. "I cannot."
"I need you. We need you, Dante. Your suffering is not yet over."
"Please, no!" Dante cried. "My Lord, I have done enough. Please let me rest."
"Dante, get up and continue working overtime." Zeke's voice drifted hazily into Dante's ears.
I don't want to work overtime! Dante wanted to cry but had no tears, clenching his teeth tightly.
Why so stubborn? Zeke pried open Dante's mouth and stuffed the entire Enchanted Golden Apple inside.
Under the Regeneration effect, Dante's fatal wounds began to heal rapidly.
With a kip-up, Dante sat up again. The wounds on his body had vanished under the restoration of the Enchanted Golden Apple.
He looked around but didn't see the human who had brought him out of the encirclement.
"Oh, by the Terra, Dante, you're alive!" Seth the Flesh Tearer trotted over. Not just him, countless Blood Angels surrounded them.
Sicarius, covered in Tyranid blood, squeezed in as well. Seeing Dante unharmed, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Dante was the longest-serving Space Marine. Such an outstanding person would definitely have many common topics with Guilliman. If he died, Guilliman would be very sad.
"Dante, you are one of the few outstanding talents of this era who can stand shoulder to shoulder with a Primarch. The Imperium is currently undertaking the Indomitus Crusade and urgently needs people like you."
Dante rolled his eyes and fainted straight away. What did he hear? More overtime. Endless overtime.
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From saving Dante to returning to the battlefield took only a few seconds. The Swarm Lord was roaring, searching for Dante's whereabouts.
The Swarm Lord's reaction wasn't slow. Realizing this was a tricky high-speed enemy, it responded.
A psychic scream pierced the entire battlefield, spreading in all directions. The Swarm Lord chose to summon its swarm to surge toward it.
All Tyranid creatures stopped their actions simultaneously. They began to collectively move toward the Swarm Lord's position.
Among them were even some Tyrant Guard.
These Tyrant Guards were designed as tanks to protect the Swarm Lord and absorb damage.
They were covered in heavy armored bone plates that could ignore most firepower. To leave no weaknesses, they had even evolved to remove vulnerable parts like eyes.
As for why the already incredibly powerful Swarm Lord needed guards, Zeke didn't know.
Watching the Tyranid creatures forming a circle to protect the Swarm Lord in the center, Zeke sneered.
What use are numbers? They'll just be killed by a single strike of my lance.
Zeke didn't stop the swarm from gathering. He raised both hands in approval of this behavior of gathering mobs for him.
Waiting for the swarm to finish gathering, Zeke raised his lance. His figure turned into a straight black line, thrusting right in front of the Swarm Lord.
As for the Tyranids attempting to obstruct him, they were treated like roadside weeds and kicked to death with a single strike.
The spear tip pierced out from the Swarm Lord's back, bringing out flesh and bodily fluids.
Zeke stopped. He stood behind the Swarm Lord; the lance had completely impaled the giant beast's body.
This was the first Tyranid creature that could withstand a single blow from Zeke's lance.
Zeke finally knew the damage of one strike at Speed 255: 421.
Looking back, a massive hole appeared in the Swarm Lord's body. The hole went from its chest through to its back, edged with torn muscle and broken bone, with internal organs slowly flowing out from inside.
The Swarm Lord had 600 HP left. At most, two more strikes would be needed to kill it completely.
Zeke flicked the blood off his lance.
The Swarm Lord lowered its head, looking at the hole in its chest. Standing amidst the swarm, it let out another psychic scream.
That scream carried a certain emotion. Not fear—creatures of the Hive Mind did not fear.
It was a sound that hadn't been uttered in a million years. Anger. Boundless anger.
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Next Goal = 1800 Powerstones.