Ten razor-sharp claws gleamed like steel, attached to a metal skeleton draped in tattered human skin, its crimson eyes blazing with malice. The Flayed One lunged, reeking of dried blood and decay—a scene straight out of a horror vid, enough to haunt anyone's nightmares.
But Luka? Unfazed. He raised his power sword, parrying the claws with a calm flick. "By the Emperor's will, I wield the holy flame," he intoned, igniting the blade's disruption field. Blue energy crackled, and with a twist, he severed the Flayed One's claws.
"Purge the heretic with righteous fire!" he chanted, the blade erupting in golden flames, a hallmark of its relic status. Luka swung, unleashing a blazing sword arc that bisected the Flayed One in a single breath. The fiery wave caught two more, igniting their stolen flesh and melting their frames.
Gutress, meanwhile, ripped a Flayed One's head off with his ceramite gauntlet, crushing it into scrap and tossing it aside. "That's a relic sword?" he asked, eyeing Luka's weapon with envy, though his tone was certain. Only a relic could pull off such feats.
As he spoke, Gutress's forge-axe cleaved another Flayed One's skull, shattering it along with the human bone it wore. "Master-crafted relic power sword, Oath of Holy Flame," Luka said. "Launches fiery arcs, deadly to xenos and heretics, double damage to Chaos and fallen Astartes." Not the Emperor's own blade like Guilliman's, but a beast nonetheless. He struck a pose, channeling psychic energy to amplify the flames, then fired a precise bolt of fire, vaporizing a distant Flayed One. A trick he'd honed, turning area blasts into pinpoint strikes.
Gutress's envy was palpable, masked only by his helmet. Firing his servo-arm-mounted bolter, he said, "Relics are something else. You'd need to be a Chapter Champion to get one this good—and yours is better. Tell a Chapter you'll trade it for aid, and they'd garrison a company here."
Relics were rare—Luka's sword could buy a cruiser. "Sure, but who'd dare take it?" Luka replied, dousing the flames and slinging the sword over his shoulder. Relics were tracked by the Imperium; every loss, damage, or transfer was recorded. Trading one? The Inquisition would have your head before the deal closed. Even Chaos warlords might send a warband to steal it, either for power or to defile it for their gods' favor.
"You just leave it in the Ecclesiarchy cathedral? This planet's clergy can't protect relics," Gutress said, yanking his axe from a Flayed One's chest, concern in his voice. Planets rarely had more than one or two relics, enshrined in grand cathedrals for worship and safeguarding. Rostov II lacked the muscle for that.
"No rush," Luka said as the Battle Sisters mopped up the remaining Flayed Ones with bolter fire. "Once the Sororitas convent is built, it'll be secure. With that, the planet's defenses will solidify. Train up the PDF, and we'll be self-sufficient before the Great Rift opens."
Thirty years until the Rift wasn't long by Imperial standards, but it was two generations for mortals—enough to prepare. Gutress nodded but pressed, "And after the Rift? Thirty years gives us time to grow, but what's the long game?"
"Build the planet," Luka said. "Rostov II is this subsector's capital. It's barely developed, which means it's ours to shape. Merlin's negotiating with the Forge World to get a forge. You and Orvillea will run it. It won't churn out much, but in thirty years, we can develop this system. With our strength growing, we'll have a solid subsector. When the Rift hits, we hold out until Guilliman's Indomitus Crusade arrives. Then, we're golden."
(To be continued)