Chapter 354: The Freeblade
That was a white-painted Cerastus-pattern Knight, standing twelve meters tall.
Among Knight suit classes, the Cerastus was the fast, agile type, obvious from its slender frame and long, narrow legs.
Lean by Knight standards, sure, but its defenses were nothing to underestimate.
Its skeletal frame and plating were forged from adamantium, enough to shrug off nearly any weapons fire that came its way.
Its left hand carried a massive powered gauntlet, roughly the size of a small truck.
A single swing from that fist, backed by the disruption field woven through it, could crack a Leman Russ tank clean open.
Welded onto its right arm was a Hellstrike chainsword, forged entirely from adamantium. At full activation, it spun up to a terrifying velocity, capable of shredding through any target it touched.
Even armour plating forged from the same adamantium wouldn't survive contact with a chainblade running that fast.
Standing beside that towering, powerful Cerastus were two smaller suits, each standing about half its height, roughly six meters.
These were squire-suits, smaller than the primary Knight but formidable in their own right.
Both carried thick, oversized chainswords in each hand, weapons capable of felling a whole building in a single stroke.
Noticing the pattern? It was the classic medieval knightly retinue, straight down to the layout. A knight astride a great warhorse in full plate, flanked by a pair of squires in mail, mounted on donkeys, carrying lances.
While Kian was busy admiring the Knight and its squire-suits, the long-haired man finished his tune, set down his flute, and turned to look directly at Kian's position.
"I sense a guest bearing tales from distant lands. Would you care to step forward and join me? Share in the meat freshly hunted?"
Kian noted the man carried no trace of Khornate taint, and since he'd already been spotted anyway, there wasn't much point staying hidden.
He stepped out from cover, and the man's attendants immediately drew their blades and moved to intercept.
"Hold! Can you not see this is a man of noble bearing? Stand down, all of you. I wish to speak with this lord at length."
The long-haired man waved his attendants off and gestured for Kian to take a seat beside him.
Kian sat down across from him on a fallen log. The man studied Kian's armour with genuine interest, his eyes lingering on the longsword crest across the chestplate and the sacred script etched into the shoulder guards.
"A traveler from distant lands, bearing a longsword as your house crest, and carrying sacred scripture upon your shoulders. You strike me as a devout warrior indeed."
Kian returned the scrutiny, studying the golden-haired man in turn, trying to spot a house crest somewhere on his robes or on the Knight suits behind him.
But there was nothing to find, not on the man's cloak, not on any of the three war engines standing behind him.
"You're a Freeblade?" Kian asked, curiosity plain in his voice.
A Freeblade, roughly speaking, was the Knight-world equivalent of a wandering noble.
Knight pilots left their houses for all sorts of reasons and became Freeblades, drifting from world to world.
It wasn't unlike the wandering nobility of medieval Europe, except where a European wandering noble had one suit of armour, one sword, and one horse, a wandering noble here brought a Knight suit, two squire-suits, a full retinue of servants, and even robed Mechanicus attendants trailing along behind.
Those Mechanicus attendants were typically sent from the Knight House itself, junior members raised on a Forge World and bonded for life to a single Knight suit.
Their entire existence was devoted to serving that one machine.
If the Knight chose to walk away from the House, those attendants had no choice but to walk away with him. If the Knight turned traitor, they turned traitor too.
Which meant that if you ever ran into a lone Freeblade wandering the Imperium, don't assume for a second he was actually alone. He might well be traveling with a Knight suit over twelve meters tall, two or three squire-suits, several thousand mortal retainers, close to a hundred Mechanicus support staff, and quite possibly a void-capable ship of his own.
The golden-haired man nodded at Kian's question.
"That's right, my lord. I'm a Freeblade. I no longer carry the burden of any house's glory. I fight only for my own will now."
Kian's breathing quickened slightly. A Freeblade was a top-tier combat asset just waiting to be recruited. If he could talk this man into joining him, or better yet, swearing loyalty to him outright, the payoff would be extraordinary.
This wasn't something to rush, though. Best to take it slow.
"My lord, may I ask your name? I am—"
Kian gave a brief introduction of himself, then waited for the man to return the favor.
"Count Voss, you may call me Luca. As for my surname, and the house I once belonged to, I'd rather not say."
The Knight named Luca smiled as he said it, but Kian caught something flickering behind his eyes, a bond to his name and his house that clearly still ran deep.
Given the choice, what Knight would ever willingly become a Freeblade? Who wouldn't rather stay home, surrounded by family and friends?
Whatever had happened to Luca before he became a Freeblade, it had clearly forced his hand. Since he didn't want to talk about it, Kian didn't press, and moved on to the topic he actually cared about.
"Lord Luca, I've come here to seek an audience with High King Budas, but I honestly have no idea where I am right now. And on top of that, this world seems to be in the middle of some large-scale Chaos uprising. Could you tell me where exactly we are?"
At the mention of the High King, something flickered briefly in Luca's eyes before settling back into calm.
"This is Golden Reach, known for its wheat harvests. If you mean to reach the High King, you're in for quite a journey. His palace sits at Throne Mountain, over two thousand kilometers from here. A long road indeed."
Two thousand-plus kilometers made Kian's teeth ache just thinking about it.
Given his physical stats, running the distance wasn't impossible, but sustained high-output movement like that worried him for his armour's sake.
A full charge on his power cell lasted three months, under low-intensity use. Push it at maximum output the whole way, though, and the cell would probably drain dry in under a month.
And once it ran dry with nowhere to recharge, he'd have no choice but to abandon the armour entirely.
Just as Kian was wondering how to handle it, Luca spoke up.
"Traveler from distant lands, there's no need to trouble yourself. Perhaps this is the Emperor's design at work, but as it happens, I'm heading toward Throne Mountain myself. We could travel together. And if your armour needs recharging along the way, my Enginseer would be glad to assist. For now, though, let's share the roasted meat, the wine, and a few stories."
Luca clapped his hands, and an attendant brought over two sets of cutlery and drink, set them down before the pair, then withdrew.
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