"Makan! What the hell are you doing! My men and beasts are fighting with the puppet emperor's lackeys, and you're resting here, huh? "The war blacksmith walked through the noisy construction site, kicked away a cultist who was in the middle of the road, and found Makan, the wizard he hated. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

Around Makan lay a horrible minions of mortal appearance, and Makan himself looked no better. Now he was blazing all over, and he collapsed to the ground weakly, as if he had been hit in the door by a rocket.

"What's wrong with you, wizard?" The war blacksmith said impatiently, "Failed to cast a spell? I don't think that would be a reason for Mistress Pilatto to forgive you. ”

"You don't need to point fingers, war blacksmith." Wizard Makan slowly stood up, his tone trembling at first, but then steady.

"You're in charge of what you're good at, and I'm dealing with what I'm good at, how is your campaign going?"

"Hmph, I don't think I need to report back to you, wizard." Then, the war blacksmith looked around, "Especially when you're barely making progress. ”

"The Chaos Gods are above, can you use your brain to think about it?!" Makan roared, annoyed by the war blacksmith's stubbornness that transcended common sense:

"I'm on good tracks, and I have a myriad of alternative plans to adjust even if it's a temporary hindrance, but what about yours? It's just a bunch of puppet emperor lackeys that will make you feel helpless, and if you fail, then Pilattobao won't let you go! ”

"Mind your own affairs, I'll see clear results next time, not useless excuses!"

The war blacksmith shouted, then strode away from Makan's lair, jumped into his own car, a Chaos Marauder, and drove away quickly.

"Damn it!" Makan watched the War Blacksmith swagger out of his sight, and couldn't help but curse, War Blacksmith was an irrefutable authority on war and destruction, but in other respects, he didn't know much more than the cultists.

Makan covered his head, the pain still tearing his nerves at times, it was a miracle to survive the enslaver's attack and kill the other in turn, but it had no effect on the situation.

If it weren't for the fact that Makan's strength was less than 20% after being damaged, he could have directly destroyed that group of puppet emperor lackeys and controlled the psionic key in his hands, instead of struggling like he was now.

"Damn beasts."

Makan thought that he had made a mistake and had failed to see through the orc psyker's simple disguise, but had been injured by it. The thought of that orc's primitive and powerful psionic ability made Makan tremble for a moment.

If he was in good condition, there would be no need to fear, but now, his strength was completely unable to compete with that orc. In the duel between psionics, knowledge and skill are of course the key, but strength is the most important foundation, and the spiritual energy of that orc belongs to an extremely large group in Makan's cognition.

How could he have expected a beast to be so cunning, like a patient hunter waiting for him to reveal his flaws first, while he, the overlord of Vignon, the mighty Chaos Wizard Lord Macan, crashed headlong into the trap like a fool.

He was still too impatient, knowing full well that this matter had to be done slowly, but he was in a hurry to move forward with the plan, so that he was repeatedly frustrated.

There is a process for the opening of the treasure, and he must now think long-term, and Makan knows that if he fails, what awaits him is an absolute nightmare.

No!

Makan shook his head, he wouldn't fail! He will be appreciated by the dark gods, and if the mission goes well, he can even join the ranks of immortals!

All it takes is his plan, plus a little tweak, and that's it.

"Makan, you seem to be hurt again." A low, cold voice rang out from the darkness behind Makan, and then, with the eerie sound of gears, a twisted figure appeared behind Makan.

In addition to several mechanical arms with bits of fire and rust, a mechanical asymmete arm adorned with the Chaos Insignia and a dim glow that does not end hung in front of him, with a large mechanical pliers and two pairs of drill bits hanging from the front of the arm, as well as several unidentifiable tools.

The subject's face was shrouded in a broken breathing mask, several breathing tubes and infusion tubes with an unknown fluid flowing all the way to his back, from behind which his face was faintly visible, its distorted and corrupt face. As for his body, it was almost completely covered in a torn black robe, but there was still a faint red and dim glow peeking through the gap between the cloak and the mechanical arm.

This is a manufacturing director of the Cult of the Dark Mechanics, a mechanical priest who has thrown himself into chaos, a madman who has revolutionized the technology of the Empire, and a dark heretic who is extremely dangerous. Makan had known him for three centuries, and while Makan was no match for his powers, he had never been able to accurately recognize the genius and madness in front of him.

"I don't need you to remind me of my condition, Letters, what about what you want to do?"

"Pay the bill first, you know, the old rules." The dark manufacturing director named Letters let out a mechanical bass.

Makan frowned, then tapped the staff in his hand, and a large ball of twisted and roaring matter flew out, and then, a mechanical arm behind Lytes quickly stretched out, absorbing the mass with a terrifying instrument that seemed to have twisted and beaten a heart.

"One hundred thousand souls, say yes." Makan said.

“…… Well, happy to work with. As soon as Lester's voice fell, a terrifying roar rang out from behind Letus, casting a hideous black shadow in the light of the fire.

"The batch of demon engines you gave me last time didn't satisfy me." Makan whispered, "If your new gadget proves useless this time, I swear in the name of the Dark God, Letus, that I will pull your filthy soul out of your tattered body." ”

"I know you'll want to do that." "You've done it more than once," said Lytes, "but I see your generosity as a buyer, and I have spared you every time, Makan, and you should be glad that you never delayed the bill." ”

Lester slowly retreated into the darkness behind him, and then, a dozen or so loaded with various terrifying weapons and heavy armor, huge in size, let out a terrifying roar.

"Let them see blood, that's what I want."