Mont stared blankly out the window. On the rooftop directly opposite the Corpse Guild, over a dozen dazzling lights flared.
Piercing explosions rang out, and focused beams of light shot indiscriminately into the Corpse Guild, creating small-scale explosions upon impact.
Lasguns are common Imperial equipment, typically standard issue for the Astra Militarum.
But 'common' is relative. An Astra Militarum soldier on a planet like Ashford is a person of extreme prestige.
For lasguns to appear in a derelict hive district like the Old Eight District, it could only mean...
"It's Leman Russ!"
Mont scrambled to hide in a blind spot where the lasguns couldn't temporarily reach, shouting loudly:
"Why is that bastard shooting at us too? Is he crazy?"
Marquite quickly glanced out the window, spotting a blurry figure on a distant rooftop.
"He's not here to help us."
Marquite quickly made a judgment:
"If I'm not mistaken, what he's looking for is also inside the Corpse Guild."
"Anyone seeing the current state of the Corpse Guild would notice something is wrong."
"And what he's searching for might be difficult to damage or..."
Marquite glanced at the person-height ceramite safe embedded in the wall.
"Huh? Is that guy planning to burn the Corpse Guild to ashes with lasguns and then dig out that safe from the ruins?" Mont's eye twitched slightly.
"Exactly. He probably doesn't even know we're inside."
Marquite nodded.
Or he knows, but he doesn't care.
Marquite didn't voice that thought.
Just then, the pale woman, whose lower leg had been burned away, stumbled to her feet.
Standing on one leg, she lunged at Mont, clutching the triangular blade.
The triangular blade's assault was so swift,
it seemed as if the sword was controlled not by thought or reason, but by pure destructive desire.
Mont raised his rust-red dagger and barely managed to parry the pale woman's strike.
Blood from his cut wrist dripped to the ground, forming a puddle.
"Defile my blood, let flies dance..."
"Itching unbearably, feeding maggots with blood."
"Lord of all rot, conceive this blood-meal."
Harsh, low incantations spewed from Mont's mouth.
The puddle of blood on the ground churned, bubbling with tiny foam, and dark red blood flies emerged from it, swarming to attack the pale woman's face.
"Aaaaaahhhhh!"
The pale woman let out a sharp wail as the blood flies gnawed at her face.
Mont leaned against the wall, breathing heavily.
The wall was trembling slightly, and outside the window, focused beams of light flickered like stars Mont had never seen.
Every one or two seconds, over a dozen focused beams would strike the Corpse Guild.
These high-heat lasers caused repeated small explosions, igniting the building's synthetic wood materials and other flammable objects.
The building, which had not been maintained for a century and was corroded by various fungi and moss, was already fragile.
Under this continuous laser bombardment, it was now on the verge of collapse.
"Are you sick?! We're inside!" Mont roared at the window.
However, his only response was several laser beams shooting in from the window, incinerating the luxurious office desk belonging to the Corpse Guild branch director.
"Damn it," Mont cursed.
"Get out of the way!" Marquite shouted at Mont.
Swoosh!!!
The triangular blade grazed Mont's shoulder, almost piercing him.
Mont looked at the pale woman, still shaken.
The blood flies that had been gnawing on the woman's flesh seemed to have contracted some disease, falling from her face like raindrops and stiffening on the ground.
The woman's face, gnawed by the blood flies, was even more horrifying, her skin almost gone, revealing decaying, festering flesh.
"Jump out the window!" Marquite spat out a mouthful of decaying digestive fluid onto the woman.
With a sizzling corrosive sound, Marquite leaped out the window without looking back.
Mont quickly followed, jumping out the window as well.
On the rooftop diagonally opposite the Corpse Guild,
Alexander, wearing a Superpower Hat, had twelve lasguns floating around him, controlled by his psychokinesis.
He watched from a broken third-floor window of the Corpse Guild as two mutants with twisted horns leaped out, falling haphazardly to the ground.
A woman in a pale dress, her face appearing gnawed, missing half a lower leg, and wielding a triangular blade, also pursued them from the window.
She landed heavily, letting out a beastly roar.
"The scent of corruption is strong."
The winged figure of Sanguinus said:
"The power of the Warp has shattered her brain and soul."
"She is now a beast acting according to the chaotic nature of the Warp."
"See? My caution was right, wasn't it?" Alexander grinned.
Carrying weapons with full firepower, capable of directly burning the Corpse Guild to ruins, yet he insisted on putting himself in danger.
Alexander was not that foolish.
Horus back then had to personally enter the derelict ship on Davine's moon to slay the traitor governor, which led to his corruption by Chaos.
Even though three Adeptus Mechanicus Titans stood behind Horus, ready to blast the derelict ship into wreckage with fire and cannonballs at any moment.
"This concerns honor, Horus would not back down."
The winged figure of Sanguinus sighed:
"Tamba, the governor of Davine, was once part of the Expedition, personally selected by Horus as governor."
"But he betrayed the Imperium, betrayed Horus' trust, and Horus therefore had to punish the traitor with his own sword."
Listening to the words of the winged figure of Sanguinus, Alexander shook his head.
"Honor, pride, brotherhood."
Alexander said, while psychokinetically adjusting the muzzles of the lasguns:
"Many things in the galaxy go wrong because of these three words..."
As his words fell, scorching laser beams whistled out.
Mont scrambled to his feet, looking at the pale woman behind him, who was as mad as a beast.
She held the triangular blade, grinning maniacally at Mont and Marquite.
Mont felt a sense of suffocation. Clutching his dagger, he was already considering whether to use that more powerful and dangerous spell...
Sizzle!------
Explosions rang out, and twelve scorching beams whistled past Mont's face, striking the pale woman.
Small explosions erupted on the woman's body, shearing off her limbs, torso, and half her head.
The pale woman let out a wail, falling heavily to the ground, a hoarse roar escaping her throat.
A few seconds later, another twelve beams fell, striking the pale woman.
This repeated several times until the pale woman was completely burned to ashes, and then the beams stopped.
Mont, still shaken, looked behind him.
He saw a figure wearing a comical hat appear two or three meters outside the Corpse Guild's main entrance.
Alexander smiled brightly, waving at Mont and Marquite:
"Yo! If it isn't Mont and Marquite! What a coincidence, you two are here too?"