Sometimes, luck is also important.

For example, now, Tarasin at this moment must be lucky.

Because Motarian had lost some of his memory, and the Pale Lord had only skimmed the reports of the Legion's previous countless battles after this.

The Pale Lord didn't have much of an impression of the space necromancy, the Xenomorph that the Legion dealt with in the early days, he only remembered that the model of a particular weapon in the Legion came from them.

In the mist, those hazy eyes fixed on Tarazin, and Motarian felt a strange familiarity, but it wasn't the point that surprised him the most—

This "being" in front of him has no soul.

The Pale Lord, who did not feel a trace of the presence of a soul.

Time seemed to slow down, and Motarian stood there in disbelief, with Taracin lying on the ground in front of him, the Pale Lord struggling to discern—

But there was really nothing, the existence in front of him did not have a trace of projection in the subspace, like a stone, a complete substance completely ignored by the subspace.

Generally speaking, even soulless people have traces of being in the subspace - their "soul" is more akin to an ostracized being.

The subspace is already tolerant, and the servants, the mechanical sages who have transformed their flesh content of less than one percent, or even a permanent old gun, or even the [deceased], will have their own subspace projections.

Unbelievable...... Motarian stared at the lying sage, trembling and showing him the way, in the perspective of subspace, where there was nothing, nothing!

In a trance, Motarian pondered whether the sage had thrown all of his soul directly into the Deceased—but would he still be alive?

What the hell is this?

“…… Over there, my lord. ”

Tarasin pointed behind him with a shudder, and the lights on his body seemed to freeze, flashing green mechanically.

Motarian let out a deep breath, and it wasn't until the desperate roar of Corax reached his ears again that the Primordial hurried out of the place.

It wasn't until Motarian's inquiring gaze finally disappeared into the white mist that Tarasin breathed a sigh of relief, anthropomorphic, and let out a loud sigh of relief.

If he had been a human, he would probably be sweating profusely by now.

Crisis Resolved......

…… Motarian.

The signal light on Tarasin's face flickered, and he pressed against the deck of the vengeful spirit, looking back thoughtfully at where the fog was tumbling.

Tarasin recalled the subspace projection of the Pale Lord, who had torn off authority from Nurgle's body, Motarion, who had initially possessed the authority of death and blight.

The original body with a very high degree of compatibility with Nurgle has achieved the initial anti-devouring of the original body of the gods, and there is a lot of room for growth......

…… Can Motarian still grow, can he hold the authority that symbolizes Life?

Can he hold the authority to symbolize the new birth?

Tarasin lay on the ground in deep thought, staring at the violently tumbling mist, the sheer white mist of subspace obscuring his vision, and the faint roar and the sound of metal colliding could be heard.

Tarasin could imagine the fierce battles there, the battles between the primordial bodies were always thrilling, the battles between the demigods, the gods invested their strength, and it must have been a wonderful battle, the fate of fratricidal, the determination to fight for life and death.

What's more, Nurgle's power has come down - will Motarian be able to bite off some more of the authority of the gods of life and death? It's a pity that he can't record all this, this will be the biggest legacy-

A huge figure rushed out of the white mist!

The next moment, Tarasin felt like he was flying again!

A black shadow that has grown larger and larger is galloping down the corridor of the vengeful spirit!

In the midst of the violent jolt, Tarasin turned his head slowly, and he saw ...... From between the gaps in the huge wings, a bloodied Corax was looking at him at the same time, blood gushing from Corax's forehead in the jolt.

The Raven Lord stared at Taracin as if relieved, as if celebrating the survival of both of them.

After another moment, Taracin realized that they were now running wildly with Motarian between left and right.

He was caught in the left hand of the Pale Lord, and on the other side, Corax was stubbornly spurting blood from Motarion's shoulder.

An angry roar could be heard from the deep corridor behind them, and the beasts roared in ruffle as they tried to chase them, but it seemed as if the billowing white mist was making it harder for them to move forward.

…… So, the mind program of the space necrons is back in operation...... It looks like the head-on clash between them didn't last long.

It is even likely that Tarasin stiffly felt the Pale Lord clutching him, even restraining his own hands, and it is likely that there was no fight between the original bodies at all.

Rarely, such a picture appeared in the mind of the space necromancer, in the midst of a subspace mess, the Pale Lord rushed directly in, picked up the Korax who was fighting desperately and ran, and then left the two Alphas standing in place in shock.

The wind generally comes, the wind generally leaves, and with a wave of the hand, it leaves behind a huge cloud of mist.

Is this ...... Tarasin thought that it was too far off from the Mortarian personality model he had collected earlier.

In a hurry, Tarasin decided it was time to update his database.

For Corax, it was probably the best scenario – even if he didn't clearly understand how his brother had fallen from the sky – and how he had taken the wounded man with him.

But at least they look like they can live.

Coraks silently vomited a mouthful of blood, Motarian's ...... As his wings flapped slightly against the Raven Lord, Koraks breathed a sigh of relief as he looked at the stiff, seemingly uncomprehended Sage of Tarazin.

You'll be fine. 】

Koraks said in a weak voice,

[Mortarian is here, we will be fine, trust me...... Brothers. 】

Koraks watched as Tarasin stiffened.

The space necronomicon was silent, and he felt Mortarian's knife-like gaze brush over him as Corax spoke.

Kolax wouldn't know that the most dangerous thing for Tarasin right now was Motarian.

+…… What exactly are you? +

The Pale Lord whispered as if to himself, he had just witnessed a substitute for his fate, but time did not allow him to react to it, the Pale Lord wished to spit on them, wished to rebuke them - but in the end he had no time to say anything.

Take Corax with you, and then depart to meet the Khan, that's Motarian's plan.

Merely...... There was a small episode that delayed him for a moment.

Motarian's men forced, his men, quietly trying to struggle Tarasin was honest.

…… Don't want to run, Motarian thought.

Motarian galloped, and they burst out of the narrow corridor into the wider hall,

+ Ready. +

He reminded them of this, and then Motarian spread his wings.

"Uh-uh-ahh!!h

[Gross! 】

This time it was really flying, and Tarasin thought to himself that if he was still a Deathphobia, he would be vomiting by now.

Gone...... Soul Spitting ......

(End of chapter)