Chapter 71: False Hope |
"Yulia, open fire! Shoot those rioters down, don't let them in!"
Outside a Three-Story Building that had been fortified into a makeshift stronghold, Price shouted toward the front.
As his words fell, a Long-Barreled Gun poked out of the observation window ahead. Propelled by electromagnetic force, a continuous volley of Steel Nails shot forth, sinking into the bodies of the Refugees and causing their frenzied tide to falter.
Price then swiftly broke free from the constraints of the crowd. Despite his age, his weathered body scaled the wall—which stood over five meters high—with the agility of a nimble ape.
More than ten emaciated Refugees tried to climb up after him, but amid a spray of blood and Steel fragments, they plummeted onto their companions, tumbling back down to the ground under the force of gravity.
Watching the old man's figure vanish over the wall, the surrounding Refugees refrained from further drastic actions. Swarming forward like locusts, they dragged away the bodies of those who had been trampled or fatally struck by the Steel Nails, leaving the street in utter silence.
They had no intention of forcefully breaching this villa.
Or rather, breaking into this house to secure food was significantly harder than simply gnawing on the corpses scattered across the ground.
Crash—
"Phew."
Price let out an exhausted sigh. Just as he was about to lean back against the sofa, a sharp, piercing pain flared in his back.
A blade had been embedded deep into his shoulder blade.
He reached back to feel it, but the angle at which the blade had pierced his flesh was incredibly awkward. He couldn't pull it out without causing secondary injury to himself.
Sigh.
The old man sighed heavily, dismayed that he could be injured by such a minor skirmish.
He really was getting old.
"Dad, you're hurt?"
Yulia noticed the old man's distress. She hastily shut off the generator, which had very little power left, and trotted over to him.
First, she assessed the angle of the embedded dagger, then carefully extracted it along the same trajectory. Holding the blade up to the sunlight, she verified that it bore no profane markings or unnatural discolorations before uncovering an alcohol tray that held a Scalpel and picking up some Hemostatic Gel.
Thanks to her elderly father's former Sacred Calling, this Three-Story Building was in no shortage of military supplies.
"Dad, why don't we go to The Community?"
As she tended to her father's wound, Yulia could not help but suggest it.
Even though those lords who monopolized the food and weapons were human scum, they could at least provide her father with stable work.
"Besides, I can fight too. I know how to shoot."
"No."
Grabbing some clean water to take a sip, Price rejected the idea outright.
He looked ahead; at some point, a woman had walked down from the middle level of The Building.
"Uncle Price."
The woman, cradling a three-year-old girl in her arms, spoke up.
Her lips trembled, but Price interrupted her before she could continue.
"Cornwall joined the Planetary Defense Force on my recommendation. Now that he is gone, it is only right that I fulfill the duty of protecting you both."
Price shook his head gently.
The atmosphere in the house fell back into a heavy silence.
"I am sorry, Sister Sophia. I do not have a problem with you, I just want to ease some of my dad's burden."
Securing the bandages, Yulia hurriedly explained.
"It is fine."
Sophia held the child in her arms a little tighter.
She knew that her uncle's family were wonderful people; she simply detested herself for being utterly useless.
Those in The Community would never choose to offer Divine Protection to two dead weights.
Furthermore...
The old man's gaze fell upon his daughter and Sophia, and he let out a soft sigh.
Even if those lords were willing to accept them, he would never agree to it.
They were far too beautiful.
"But what about that Divine Emperor Cult? As long as we go listen to their teachings, we can receive food. Plus, with the cultists escorting us, we wouldn't have to deal with the mob."
Yulia tried to persuade him, sounding somewhat helpless.
"Even Karian next door, that Scion, managed to join the cult. And ever since he joined, he has become much more polite."
Yulia brought up her own example.
"He doesn't even come to harass me anymore."
"No, we absolutely cannot go there!"
Compared to the scum in The Community, Price was far more wary of these Heretics.
"Sigh."
Yulia sighed. She had lost count of how many times she had brought this up to her father.
Yet Price always rejected the idea bluntly.
She couldn't understand it. Even if they didn't join The Community, what was so wrong with going to the Divine Emperor Cult? After all, the people they interacted with there seemed like a perfectly decent group.
At worst, they merely had a mystique about them, preferring to keep themselves wrapped up in robes.
She just didn't want her father to be this exhausted every day, traveling far away to work for the lords of The Community and then risking his life just to rush back home.
"Little Erika."
Refusing to argue the topic with his daughter any further, Price gently addressed the little girl in Sophia's arms.
"Does Uncle Karian still look the same in your eyes?"
Karian only returned home around this time every day, and for the safety of the girls, Price always made sure to get back before him.
Today, however, he had been unexpectedly delayed.
"Yes. That uncle looks completely different from when we first met him."
The little girl lifted her head, revealing her striking silver eyes.
"His changes are completely different from Grandpa Price's and Mommy's."
"I see."
Price nodded, his wariness toward that so-called cult deepening.
He had a certain understanding of Psykers. The little girl was remarkably stable, just like her grandfather, who had hidden in their regiment and saved their lives dozens of times.
Sometimes, it was absolutely necessary to trust the world as seen through the eyes of these Psykers.
"Aaaargh—"
Just as Price was about to end this heavy conversation, a terrifying, agonizing howl echoed through the air.
It was Karian.
Price had a terrible impression of this particular child of a deceased comrade; the man was nothing more than a hooligan who ran amok, relying entirely on the legacy his parents had left behind.
"Take the child and stay in the room."
Raising his hand to signal the girls to retreat, Price snatched up his handcrafted Bolt Launcher and sprinted toward the observation deck on the second floor.
Creak—
The moment he lifted the layered Steel Plates, Price spotted a swift figure darting from the neighboring house into the outer Courtyard.
The black-robed figure immediately locked eyes on Price and charged at him like a madman.
Bang!
Price fired without a shred of hesitation. The powerful recoil of the bolt's ejection jolted his entire body, and in the next instant, the explosive projectile tore the attacker's chest cavity to bloody shreds.
Splat.
Karian collapsed to the ground, crumpling like a puddle of sludge.
Price did not approach him. Instead, he grabbed a Folding Pole, extended it into the yard, and hooked the tattered Black Cultist Robes to lift them up.
'I knew it.'
Seeing the horrifying sight beneath the fabric, Price could not help but feel profound relief that he had never relented on his stance, and that his daughter had been obedient enough to listen.
Under the gray robes was a purple-skinned Xenos. Its skull jutted out at a highly unnatural angle, and its arms had mutated into razor-sharp talons.
Dangling from the Xenos's wrist was a Dog Tag that had once belonged to his former comrade—a grim confirmation of the creature's true identity.
Frowning deeply, Price used a Nail Gun to shatter the windows of Karian's house, then picked up his Binoculars to peer inside.
A considerable number of bones were scattered across the dining area. As for their shape and structure, Price was all too familiar with them.
That perfectly explained where all the elderly and frail humans who had joined the cult had disappeared to.
Having neutralized the threat and having no desire to invite further trouble, Price turned around, only to wince as a needle-like pain flared from the wound on his shoulder blade.
It looked like it would need to be bandaged all over again.
"Dad."
Yulia's nervous voice drifted upward:
"That was Karian, wasn't it?"
"..."
Price met her question with heavy silence.
Yulia covered her mouth and slowly crouched down. Tears spilled from the corners of the eyes of this girl who had always tried to appear so incredibly strong.
Once again, her father had been right.
But why did being right have to feel so utterly despairing?
Price walked over and reached out to gently ruffle his daughter's hair.
"Dad... are we going to survive?"
She murmured in a muffled voice.
"Of course."
Price nodded, replying with absolute earnestness, "Never give up hope."
"Okay."
"Let's go eat first."
"Okay."
Yulia sniffled a few times, then wiped her tears dry and descended from the deck.
Cradling his gun, Price leaned against the observation window, watching the girls head downstairs before shifting his gaze back outside.
Lately, he had been scouting a path to the Ecclesiarchy Shrine. The genetics of both his daughter and niece were completely stable. As long as they kept Little Erika's eyes concealed, seeking Divine Protection wouldn't be an issue.
The real problem lay in figuring out how to cross The Block with danger lurking at every turn.
Another sharp pain flared in his shoulder blade.
Price massaged his shoulder.
Until the children were safe, he simply refused to die.