"Damn the Dark Elves, you're going to pay for your blasphemy!" With a loud shout of rage, the Chaos Wizard fired several missiles, and purple-black flames burned, which was the dark power of the subspace. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

However, it didn't mean much to Carrick, and the power of this wizard was not a grade compared to the previous Chaos Lord.

Carrick leapt into the air, spun his body at unimaginable angles, and in an instant dodged a dense stream of Chaos missiles and severed off several of the cultist's heads.

Then, with a short dash as Carrick landed, in the blink of an eye, Carrick rushed in front of the wizard.

"Damn." The wizard raised his sword, just enough to block the slasher that Carrick had slashed down.

"You can't defeat me, despicable thief, you tricks ......"

"Enough to kill you, low creatures." Carrick quickly dismantled his slasher, then swung his right hand and slashed the wizard in the chest.

"Ahh The wizard screamed, and flames erupted from his body, forcing Carrick to retreat. Then, the wizard, waved the scepter.

"Let my servant play with you, Pointed Ears!" The wizard's angry voice came, and then quickly disappeared in place.

"Useless coward." Carrick scoffed, then slashed twice to the right, slicing an Annihilator into three pieces.

"I'll find you, wizard, you servants won't be able to delay for long, and next time, I'll take your life."

Carrick said, and then pounced on the cultists, as for now, Carrick didn't mind having a dessert first.

Carrick jumped back in disgust, the blood of this filthy garbage was not what Carrick wanted, and he sliced another cultist's corpse to pieces, and filthy blood flowed out.

"Get out! Wizard, you coward! Carrick scoffed insolently.

"Coward?" The wizard's voice came from all directions with anger: "Some call me a viper, someone calls me an overlord, but! Coward... Pointed ears, you me off! ”

As he spoke, a stream of blue-purple lightning slashed out, heading straight for Carrick.

Very well, Carrick thought, this was just the beginning, and Carrick jumped to his feet, dodging the lightning.

At that moment, Carrick suddenly sensed something wrong, so he instinctively swung his knife back, just enough to block the blade that was slashing from behind.

It was the prophet, and Carrick knew it at a glance.

"What are you doing here, Fallen, what is your plot?" She asked, and Carrick gave her a boring look, the little guy was not worth mentioning at all, but that was also a point.

He then dragged the Prophet sideways, ignoring her surprised gaze, and rolled again, dodging an energy cannon from a demon engine.

"I'm not interested in playing with you weak bastards." Carrick quickly stood up, not even glancing at the prophet who had just been thrown to the ground by himself and escaped.

"At least if there are more powerful enemies to kill." Carrick retracted his sword and assembled the blade again.

"If you can, take out some of your previous momentum and protect your people, you are still more or less a spirit race."

Then, Carrick rushed out and cut a sadistic bloodfighter in two from head to tail.

"Idiot, the power of the Chaos True God cannot be stopped! And you are nothing more than clowns. The warlock stepped out of the darkness, a dark purple light clinging to his hideous armor as if it were alive.

Carrick let out an eerie laugh as he looked at the massive cut in the warlock's armor's chest.

"Trash, you and your kind are nothing more than lackeys and toys running at the feet of your master, what right do you have to make a big deal out of here?"

Then, Carrick lifted his broadknife and began to activate the hormone syringe on his body, feeling the mixed stimulant flowing over him, and Carrick shook his hand.

"Now, it's the final round."

Suddenly, a sharp pain struck, and Carrick's brain seemed to be stretched open by the sharp pain, and there was a cold force peeking into his soul.

Carrick was bent over by the pain in his brain, so much so that he had to stand on the ground to barely stand.

"Damn it, get out of my head!"

Carrick let out a roar of rage, activating a second hormone mixture buried in his armor, and a burning sensation immediately rushed into his mind, slowing down the cold sensation a lot, but Carrick knew that it was temporary.

Enslavers, they came, as he had been told.

Carrick looked up and saw that the Chaos Wizards and Prophets were clutching their heads in pain, and others, both Chaos and Elves, began to fall to the ground one after another, or scream and slowly rise into the air.

"Prophet! Let your men go quickly, the enslavers are coming! Carrick shouted loudly, recklessly.

The Prophet clutched his head and shouted to him: "We cannot fight this ancient evil!" Fellow citizens! Fall back!! ”

With her shouting, some of the spirits began to quickly withdraw from the battlefield, but some were unmoved.

"How do you know it's a slave." The Prophet struggled.

"Don't worry so much, go quickly, the faster the better!"

Suddenly, a gap opened in front of him, and a ranger came out of it: "Go here, compatriots, quickly!" ”

All the spirits who were still conscious sprang into the net, and Carrick and the Prophet were the last.

The moment Carrick's foot stepped through the mouth of the net, the door slammed shut, and the intense pain subsided like a tide.

But that's just the beginning of the problem.

All of the Eldarins, except for the Ranger, turned their weapons at Carrick, "Surrender now, Fallen, you may still be able to spare your life." ”

Carrick laughed angrily: "Surrender? You're kidding. ”

Then, Carrick picked up the slasher and was about to rush forward.

"Please, stop, in the name of the gods." A stumbling sound was heard, and then two tall ghost mechs escorted a small elf clan over.

Although the armor style is slightly different, there is no doubt that the person who came was a prophet, and Carrick knew her.

"Cut." Carrick put away his knife and stood aside boredly.

It was the Prophet of Yalts Ann, the pioneer of Iyendon.

The Prophet of IELTS stepped forward quickly, walked in front of the Spirit Prophet, and saluted.

"Greetings to you, sister, I just, yes, Yasian, prophet, by the covenant, to help you, to help. Please don't, do it, this, it's mine, the guard, Carrick, Juggernaut. He was, my father's, an old friend. ”

Carrick yawned boredly and patted his still-swollen head, deliberately ignoring the ghostly expressions on the faces of the elves.

He knew that this fight would not be fought.

————————————————————

On the outskirts of the city of Salado, two orc scavengers are looking for all kinds of garbage that can be used.

"Well, shrimp's flashlight, garbage." Vicious Tooth looked at the laser gun in his hand and tossed it aside.

"Hey, Vicioustooth, where's this?" A scavenger next to him handed over the gadgets in his hand.

"Ah, the cannon on the big armor, but only the back half, it's okay." Then, Vicious Tooth stuffed the railgun, which was only the second half of the cannon, into the large package next to it.

"Hey, Black Knife, what else did you find?" Vicioustooth asked.

But there has been no reply.

"Black Knife?" Vicious Tooth turned his head and saw the corpse of the black knife broken in two.

"What!" Vicious Tooth quickly jumped to his feet, pulled out the machete and short gun he had assembled, and looked around, but there was nothing.

Ah, maybe the black knife picked something up and tore it in two. Unlucky guy. Vicioustooth thought so and was about to sit down.

Then a sharp pain came, and Vicious Tooth looked down at his chest, and a sharp claw pierced Vicious Tooth's chest.

Vicious Tooth turned his head with difficulty and saw an ugly figure with a strangely large round head, and four arms, with a huge mouth full of sharp teeth, staring greedily at Vicious Tooth.

It's a genestealer, an evil vanguard of the Tyranid swarm, an all-pervasive infiltrator.

Vicious Tooth felt chills in his body, and he couldn't control his limbs.

WITH THE LAST OF HIS STRENGTH, HE LET OUT A SHOUT OF "WAAAGH!" AND THEN PULLED THE BUNDLE OF GRENADES HE HAD JUST PICKED UP.

It's not too bad. Badtooth's simple head was the last to think.