Secret War: Warhammer 40,000 by Ben Agar (romantic novels to read .TXT) 📕

Feuilt smirked. "Of course you do."

I readied my sword as suddenly, Feuilt charged but was utterly unprepared as he abruptly kicked my feet out from under me.

My back slammed hard against the stone floor, causing me to gasp in pain and the world to spin.

But yet I still brought up my blade to stop Feuilt's descending sword before it cleaved my head in half.

"Sorry, but It will take more than just 'fight' to win, Mr Kaltos," snarled Feuilt in my face as my shaking arms rapidly began to buckle and give.

'Yes," I agreed, then spat bloody phlegm straight into his eye. "But fight isn't all that I have left."

Feuilt screamed in agony and reeled off me, clutching at his face while I slowly clambered to my feet.

"You bastard!" he screamed. "You frigging little bastard!"

Just as I was up, Feuilt was on me, attacking like a madman. My heart thundering, I managed to back peddle just out the way.

Roaring like a crazed animal, he rallied and sliced down at my skull, which I barely sidestepped, and his sword cut into the stone floor.

A sudden terror overtook me, and I stumbled into a run from my sidestep, running for the right side aisle.

"Come back here, you little frig stain!" screamed he and Feuilt started after me. "Come back so I can gut you like a fish!"

I made it to the aisle, turning right, the praying statues of the saints towering over me as I ran past them.

Laughing insanely while simply walking after me, Feuilt began to slash his power sword into each statue as he came to them, decapitating or slicing their torsos.

"You keep running, you little idiot," he snarled. "Keep on running! You'll just make it easier for me! I can do this all day! Keep running like the pathetic coward you are!"

I slid to a stop and turned to face him, my jaw clenched, and I gripped my sword's hilt harder.

"Oh! The boy has some balls after-"

Feuilt was interrupted as I charged, stabbing my sword toward his face. He ducked and slashed out wildly at my chest, a blow I backstepped and which wound up slicing straight through one of the pews—sending large shards of burnt wood in every direction. Laughing like a maniac, he parried my counter thrust and punched me in the face, sending me writhing back, dazed and hurting.

Desperately I hurled myself to the floor in a bid to dodge Feuilt's inevitable follow-on and clumsily clambered toward the middle aisle.

I turned and watched as he approached me, grinning insanely from ear to ear and cutting chaotically into the pews on his sides.

"What the hell has come over you," I murmured as I climbed to my feet.

"Nothing has come over me!" he screamed, stopping his advance, throwing back his head and cackling maniacally. "This is me! The true me that I've kept hidden for years! Oh, how liberating to release myself from that prison finally. To be able to show the world who I truly am!"

"You're insane," I growled; I couldn't keep this up for much longer. I could barely keep my feet as my knees constantly wanted to buckle from under me; every inch of me hurt like a bastard. I had to fight my churning stomach continually and the horrid need to vomit.

"Am I?" he exclaimed. "Or am I the one who is truly sane? Master Edracian is going to change this world, Attelus. This universe, for the better! He's going to destroy the primitive stupidity of the Imperium of Man and replace it with a far greater one! One that knows its place! One that will worship the almighty gods of chaos as it should! As humanity truly needs!"

I spat on the floor. "I don't know what the hell humanity truly needs, but it sure as hell doesn't need to worship chaos."

Feuilt somehow grinned wider and pivoted his head to an almost unnatural angle. "Then the master is right; you truly are a fool who deserves to die."

The next millisecond he was sprinting and slashing. I weakly parried then stabbed back, but he merely weaved out the way.

Feuilt struck, cutting down, a blow which I drunkenly stumbled away from.

He grinned. "You're pathetic," he said, then kicked me straight in the chest.

I flew for Emperor only knows how long, but it felt like forever. When I finally hit the ground, I rolled, head over heels, finished on my front then my face smashed hard against the stone. Horrendous agony speared through my head, and I saw stars. But despite being dazed and woozy, I was able to realise I no longer held my sword quickly.

Fighting my weak, flimsy limbs, I began to crawl to my feet as quickly as I could, glancing around in search of my sword. All the while, the laughing Feuilt slowly approached.

I finally found my sword, deactivated and lay amongst the bits of destroyed statues down the left side pew.

Finding I didn't have even enough strength to stand. I began to slowly crawl toward it, blood running thickly down my face from my forehead into my eyes.

"Still not giving up!" Feuilt yelled. "I swear by the ruinous powers, you're the most stubborn little worm I've ever met!"

I made it to the end of the pew, and with numbed fingers, grasped my sword; Using it as a lean-to to climb onto my knees.

Feuilt stood at the other end of the pew, shaking his head with contempt.

"My master, the great Edracian, he knew you would make it here," he said as he started to walk. "He knew you would somehow scarper through all the daemons, and yet he ordered me and only me to guard the Conduit. Now, the only reason and the only I can think of was that he knew, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that I'd protect it, that I would win! That I was superior to you in every conceivable way!"

I really wanted to say, 'perhaps he thought you were expendable' but wisely refrained.

"If only you could see yourself!" he roared. "Battered, beaten, exhausted! Pathetic! You wouldn't stand a chance against me even at full strength! You're nothing! Nothing! Give up! What can you possibly, do!"

"Improvise," I hissed and desperately threw the piece of a statue I'd been holding behind my back.

It hit him right between the eyes with a sickening crack! Immediately I was running; all the while Feuilt was screaming, rocking back in pain, I impaled him through the chest.

Feuilt gasped; his eyes widened with shock and surprise.

With one tug, I tore out my sword, and Feuilt collapsed limply to his knees. His sword fell from his grasp and clattered onto the floor.

I picked up his sword and started to stagger toward the Conduit.

"You really are your father's son," coughed Feuilt, which caused me to stop in my tracks, my eyes wide with surprise.

"What?" I stammered. "You know my father?"

Feuilt gurgled out what sounded like laughter. "Of course, everyone in our line of work knows Serghar Kaltos. But most only know of Serghar Kaltos. I knew him, he, he-"

Feuilt was interrupted by a coughing fit, and I could see blood splattering onto the floor in front of him.

"Your father, Serghar Kaltos he taught me everything I know."

I stood shocked, unable to come up with a coherent reply.

"Now, I understand why Edracian made me guard the Conduit alone. I now see why. Attelus, you must see Inquisitor Edracian isn't what he seems to be, he's, not what you think, he's, he's..."

Feuilt never got to finish his sentence as suddenly he went completely limp and fell onto his face.

I stood for a few seconds, trying to process Feuilt's words. Was he lying? Perhaps, but something in me just knew he was telling the truth.

While shaking away the confusion, I turned and approached the conduit. I knew that in any second, I'd collapse and lose consciousness.

I activated Feuilt's powersword and, with all my remaining strength, struck the stone. Feuilt's blade cut through it with surprising ease. The black and red hurricane flickered a few times, then disappeared and the blood light with it.

I dropped to my knees and smiled, then fell onto my side while my tired eyes flickered open and shut repeatedly.

"You owe me, you bastards," I said, then everything went black.

My eyes almost immediately opened, and a blinding light met me in my eyes which caused me to squint and raise my forearm to cover my face. Warmth suddenly flooded my limbs, and the pain of my injuries was gone. Then I heard the sound of singing birds, the very familiar sound of a particular bird that I haven't heard in a long time.

I suddenly sat up straight as the realisation hit me, finding myself in the familiar backyard of a very familiar house. On my left was a small, one-story building made of plasterboards painted a welcome white and the roof; corrugated, grey painted metal. A trench was dug into the bank, which weaved around the house like a pathway. The yard sloped slightly with the hill and was about a good seven or eight metres wide before it finished into the thick bush that covered the valley all around.

It was my old home, where I lived in northern Velrosia as a child before moving south to Varander. By the Emperor, I missed this place sometimes, back when life was simpler. For me anyway, now I knew that my father was struggling, barely scraping enough money to pay the rent, to survive. My father had very few skills outside of killing. Still, one, he worked as a house painter, an excellent painter but was underpaid; that was one of the many reasons why he'd left me with my mother when I was a toddler so that he could support us with his far better income; from his 'assassinations.'

Until he came back when I was four and found...

I shuddered; I didn't ever want to remember that. There was a good reason why my mother and I didn't get along, and it wasn't just because of our opposing ideologies.

The sound of soft footsteps approaching my back made me suddenly straighten, turn, reach for my sheathed sword and stand.

The Eldar, Faleaseen, towered over me, still in her esoteric form-fitting armour. Still, her helmet was off now, showing her attractive, thin face, her large eyes gazing down at me with amusement, her thin lips curled in a contemptuous, slight smile.

"Oh," I said, but not moving out of my combat stance and keeping my hand on my sword. "It's you."

Faleaseen frowned. "I searched your memories for a place you held dear and thought I would reward your efforts with it. You do not sound terribly appreciative."

I frowned back; the way she said it was like an owner giving a small treat to their pet canine.

"Uhh, thanks," I sighed and sat back down. I was strangely feeling the need to meditate, even though I'd never meditated in my life. This place made me feel extraordinarily at peace. It wasn't my backyard but an extremely idealised version, I knew. I'd remembered it almost always was overcast or a cold wind blowing; very rarely would there be a perfect day like this.

"I don't need a reward," I said as I reached into my jacket for my Lhos. "What I need is to know whether my friends have survived."

Quickly, I found my Lhos were still gone and grinned guiltily up at the Farseer. "Uhh, maybe one reward would be good."

The Farseer groaned, and with a wave, a packet of Lhos was abruptly in my grasp.

"And uhh, a light too would be good."

With another groan and wave of her hand, I had an igniter.

"Thanks," I said genuinely, then with finger and thumb, slipped a Lho between my teeth, lit it and took a very long inhale, then exhaled with great relish.

"What is the saying that you Mon'keigh have?" said Faleaseen. "Simple things..."

"For simple minds, yes, yes, I know, I know," I said, blowing out more smoke