Macado frowned, and couldn't wait for the shuttle steps to stretch out, and the little old man jumped down with great agility.

Behind him, Sage Gold slammed down like a giant beast, and there was a deafening thud from the deck of the World Eater.

Macardo's fleet was now on the side of the World Eater far from the spaceport.

"My lord, aren't we going to join up with the Ultramarines and Death Guards who are rescuing?"

Kim asked, and Machado waved his scepter, and the golden flame splattered, and the blood faded.

"Not necessarily."

The flames showed them the way, and Machado walked straight to the hatch on the deck, closest to them,

Sister Kim and Silence followed him.

The old man moved quickly, and Makado knew that at this moment, time was of the essence.

He stumbled into the blood mist, and the good news was that the curtain didn't continue to weaken - the previous summons had consumed them too much.

In the narrow corridor, the scarlet blood-colored monster cast its gaze at the group, and Macado coughed, he is not a good martial man, and the first battle is against the terrorists......

For his old bones, it was a little exciting.

Machado slammed the scepter to the ground, and the robes at his feet were windless, and the hunting sounded, and the invisible shockwave shook open with golden flames!

He felt the position of the two primitives trapped, Macado casually wiped the blood from the corners of his mouth, Angelon and Robert Killiman, one of them, who knew a little psionic knowledge...... Nor will it ......

Macado took a deep breath,

Useless guys! Let him come!

————————

The dry scarlet desert stretches endlessly.

Angron's mouth let out a hoarse breath, and the original body was half-sitting on the sand, breathing weakly.

Angelon smiled bitterly,

"You should take a break, brother. 】

They were trapped here, in an illusion, and time had no concept at this moment.

Robert Killiman, who was leaning next to him, didn't even lift his eyelids, he whispered words as if he had entered a dead loop with no input signal.

Angelon heard that it was Robert Killiman's summary of his own failures, not only of the battle, but also of every mistake, as well as the subsequent review and changes.

Killeman stopped before his nineteenth company's misguided actions were summed up.

[I realized early on that the truth is always cruel,]

Killyman said hoarsely, "Not everything will give you the opportunity to learn and change, events tend to be worse, it doesn't even give you a chance to observe. 】

Angelon lowered his eyes, and he stroked the dry handle of the tomahawk in his hand,

[Survival requires luck.] 】

Killiman shifted his gaze to the distant, dry end of the horizon.

"I was lucky. 】

Killeman looked back, his gaze shuddering for a moment as it touched the dead nail in Anglon's head.

Angelon sighed,

【Wait,】

He said

[I'm sure Motarian will come, even if he behaves in an extreme way, but he will be sane.] 】

Killiman also let out a long sigh, and he said calmly,

【…… I confess that I was biased against him. 】

[But now, I realize, this is his own survival wisdom.] 】

The Lord of the Red Sand smiled,

"When we get out, we should have a good talk.] 】

Killiman was silent for a long time before he spoke,

[I hope Motarian-]

"Come here!!"

The two primordials turned their heads at the same time, staring at a corner of the blood-colored desert, where there seemed to be a faint cry,

Killeman looked at Angelon and silently asked if he was friend or foe.

Anglon frowned, and he made it difficult for him to make out the shape of his mouth,

[I don't know, but it's not Motarian-]

"Then you just wait for Motarian to come and save you!"

The old man's angry shout was clearly reached in the ears of the two primordials this time.

Killiman and Angelon hurriedly dragged the dozen or so World Eaters who had fallen into suspended animation, and ran towards that side.

The rough red sand stretched beneath their feet, at first still hot from the light of the stars, but slowly, the realism of these senses faded.

The space blurred like a fierce scarlet flame, where the flames rose was the desert, and where the flames had not shrouded—

The two Primitives on the run saw the bulkhead of the World Eater, Machado holding his scepter, and a giant sage firing fire at the tide like an automatic fire platform.

Angelon made the first big jump, stepping back onto the hard metal floor, and then Killiman rushed into reality.

Makadol pulled out the scepter that was inserted into the floor, and the flames immediately rushed towards the old man, and Killiman just wanted to pull the old man,

But before he could reach out, Machado dodged with great agility.

"Just mind yourselves!"

"Hold on!"

Machado struck his target with a wave of his scepter, and Angelon saw blood and fangs erupt from the air as the demons were struck in the face by the front of his scepter.

Anglon had met the Imperial Regent, Machado, but that was at the Council of Nikea, and he had never met Machado in private.

It's a ...... A man of militant blood.

Angelon made his judgment.

Trapped in the illusion, hundreds, thousands, infinite time, the two primordials were obviously not in their best condition, and Machado's team escorted them, not even letting the two primordials make a move.

Machado and Kim lead the way, the Great Sage's firepower platforms are all turned on, and Machado is responsible for striking at the Scarlet Devils who are emerging from the smoke of gunpowder.

Machado's scepter burned with flames that danced as if alive with the old man's swing of the rod—nay, the swing of the staff, leaving a permanent mark on each unfortunate demon army.

According to Angron, Machado was by no means the gloomy courtier as he was rumored—at least the human impression of a courtier would not have used such a direct and brutal attack.

With Machado's guidance and opening the way, they quickly converged with the death guards who came to the rescue,

Angelon was relieved to see that among the white-helmeted warriors was the presence of the rescued World Eater.

And Killeman was relieved to see that there were no extreme warriors among the deepest fighters -

He wasn't sure if the "Ultramarines" he had met were still in his ranks.

Although the death guards did not seem to welcome Machado very much, they seemed to be forced to stick to it, fighting alongside the old man.

As the team gradually rushed into the area under their control, the tide began to subside, and Machado, who had been silent, spoke abruptly,

"How's Motarian doing?"

The two primordials froze, Killeman and Angron glanced at each other, and saw the surprise in each other's eyes, Motarian also - Makurag also had an accident?!

The Followers and their Death Guard answered the question, and for the time being, communication had not yet been restored, and they had a three-hour delay in communication with the ground.

Machado took a deep breath, and he looked at the two embarrassed protoplasms who had just escaped,

"I was prepared to support Motarian - not you ......"

The old man gritted his teeth and said,

"Because the subspace prophecy here clearly points to him."

All right!

(End of chapter)