Chapter 4: Freeblade
Cold water streamed over Taylor's skin, flowing from the wooden barrel in thick rivulets. Soap foamed, slipped, and was rinsed away again and again.
The Imperial Guard soldier refused the servants' offers to help him. He stood alone, dousing his body with cold water relentlessly.
With the temperature dropped sharply after the rain, such actions would have sent most men into shock.
But beneath the surface, an unwelcome fire burned deep inside Taylor, stubborn and unyielding.
He tried to quell it.
Sighing, he poured more cold water over himself, unwilling to emerge from the washroom until the dirt clinging to his skin and the grime clouding his mind had almost vanished.
Perhaps it was relaxation, or last night's poor rest and long march, but exhaustion crept heavy into his bones.
Yawning, Taylor walked toward the door of the female knight's chamber.
Looking at it, no different from any other room, a strange anger welled inside him.
He knocked cautiously—fearful, cautious like the first time he killed an enemy.
Years ago, he had knocked on a door like this in an underground cult black market, wielding a lasgun like an old friend's welcome.
He'd stumbled into a deadly turf war then, which led to the deaths of thirty Imperial traitors.
That may have been why he valued saving innocents now—he had seen enough killing.
Elena's voice called cheerily from inside.
"Come in~"
Taylor thanked his ancestors silently, then slowly pushed open the door.
The room was elegant, scented with perfume, dominated by a long table.
At least, Taylor had never seen a woman whose chamber held no bed, only a pile of swords and that long table.
Elena smiled, her eyes meeting Taylor's. Something felt off.
Surrounding her were knights, Mechanicus servitors, and even soldiers from Taylor's squad—gearing up for battle.
Elena herself wore a combat hydraulic reinforced suit, with metal spine connectors gleaming.
She pointed to a huge strategic map on the table, studying red markers—Ork positions.
Her smile was sharp, dangerous.
Taylor looked down at his loose pajamas and suddenly felt exposed.
She laughed as if savoring a victory and looked at him.
"Haha, I didn't expect a Star Army officer to be so interested. You're quite the actor."
Taylor scowled. "Are you playing with my heart?"
Elena replied coldly, "A warrior of the God-Emperor is prone to wild imaginations. Who knows how much 'achievement' you truly earned?"
"If I hadn't seen the iron rules of the Astra Militarum, I might think you bought your merit."
Before Taylor could reply, Sergeant Katie spoke up.
"Our commander is no foolhardy man. Nor sarcastic or cunning! His feats were witnessed by the Emperor himself."
Taylor snapped, "Enough!"
"Katie, my dear, you're only embarrassing me."
"Defending me only deepens my shame. Let Lady Freeblade decide. She spoke true."
"All I know: we face a vast Ork horde. We may live today, but die tomorrow. In such times, honors mean nothing."
Their words hung in the air. Taylor perceived the awe in their eyes.
In the 40th millennium, millions chased honor—yet Taylor bore his reputation humbly.
Elena's expression shifted. "I misjudged you. You are a soldier who revels in bloody battle."
Taylor considered if she might drop 'bloody' and keep 'revels.'
He trudged to his seat in pajamas, sitting down as the battle meeting began.
Most strategized how to shatter the Deathskull Orcs' defenses—but Taylor's eyes stayed fixed on the map.
He spotted a promising point, distant from main roads, far from major forts.
His experience spoke: such places were comfortable to hold.
Taylor's team was only ten men. Could they turn the tide? No one would believe it.
When Elena asked for station assignments, Taylor placed his piece without hesitation.
She frowned. "Taylor, this fortress is ruins—devoid of value."
"It bore critical supply lines once, but now, only wild Orks roam."
"Strategically, it's worthless."
Taylor countered swiftly. "People see only what they want to see."
He pointed. "Look—faint road traces flank the ruins. Ork light vehicles could blitz in."
"There's no defense system," he warned. "A sudden attack might destroy your vehicles."
Elena opened her mouth to argue. The road was nearly destroyed, the area home to scattered farmers alone.
But Taylor's determined gaze made her pause.
Could she doubt a warrior of his honor?
She had seen many heroes, but Krieg still haunted her memories.
If such a rare talent deemed this place important, then it must be so.
She turned to officers and Mechanicus. "Taylor, my squire, Hammer of the Emperor, officer of the Astra Militarum—your resolve moves me."
"I assign fifty armed soldiers to your command. You and your squad will hold the flank."
"In the name of my house!"
Taylor stood and returned the salute.
But his heart sank.
Why did this feel like a farewell?