"Great River, ......"

Sergeant Latobis sighed softly, first rubbing his garment, which was stuffed with stones and dust, then clapping his palms, taking out a can, priing it open, and then taking a big bite of it, ignoring the coldness of the food.

He didn't rush to chew, but first slowly grinded a mouthful of food with his tongue, and then swallowed it little by little, his tongue occasionally brushed over the cavity between his teeth, which was a trace of past experience: the bastards in logistics will not send good things until the critical time, and it is normal for there to be some small surprises in the can that make people [surprise big teeth].

The sergeant tilted his head and spat out something like a white pebble, which he struggled to keep from thinking about.

After making sure that there was nothing left, he began to chew, trying to absorb the taste of the rhizome and artificial spices from the bland and tasteless food.

"Won't you have some, second lieutenant?"

"You haven't eaten in a long time."

When his mouth was filled with paste, Latobis spoke indistinctly, and he turned his head to look at Tigray, only to find that the lieutenant had simply shook his head, stroking the scar on his chest, where there should have been a closely guarded pocket containing Tigray's letters and his connection to the past.

Latobis didn't say anything more, he opened a can and placed it beside Tigray, then opened another one for himself, and stuffed the food into his mouth as much as he could, and at this point, his heart felt more relaxed than ever.

Yes, relaxed, comfortable.

Since last night, when their defensive positions had been breached, Latobis and Tigray had fled like headless flies on the desert, they did not dare to take the slightly flatter roads, they only dared to trek through the poor mountains and bad waters, the two cannon fodder fled for their lives almost in black and white, they relied on the touch of the stars and the wind to barely discern the direction, they ate the last of the food and water in a daze, and hid together in the shadows of the huge stones. Or avoid the search for those Randan fighters cruising in the sky.

Finally, after almost fifteen Terra standards, just as Latobis was considering whether or not to throw away the gun to reduce its weight, they saw the great river, and the bridge.

The sergeant had almost forgotten what had happened next, he vaguely remembered that they had roared like mad savages and ran towards the position, then were crushed to the sand by the panicked defenders, and then countless people, countless pairs of pupils, and countless mouths, appeared and flickered and spoke one after another around him, making his already unclear mind even more groggy.

By the time he remembered again, he was already sitting in a room opposite the supreme commander of the bridge, and Latobis even saw a tall warrior standing in the shadow of the room.

Oh my God, it's the Angel of Death, it's the first time he's been so close to them.

The garrison commander took the trouble to ask many questions, such as names, numbers, troops, and experiences in the past twenty-four terras, some of which Latobis could answer, and the rest could only shake his head numbly.

But he remembered that when he said his troops and positions, the commander's face showed uncontrollable surprise.

"Heights 42 were broken through by enemy troops at about five o'clock last night......"

He heard the commander muttering.

"None of the 33rd Regiment stationed inside escaped."

It was only then that Latobis's chaotic mind finally remembered that he was part of that unit, stationed in the so-called high ground position, but it didn't matter anymore, and he recalled the scenes and images he had seen as he fled, and was not surprised that no one had survived except the two of them.

The Angel of Death seemed to nod, and then Latobis was sent out, and he was stuffed with a few cans and a few rows of bullets, and led by a soldier, he staggered to a new trench, and then he found Tigray already waiting for him, and the second lieutenant's arms were also stuffed with cans and bullets.

Next, they became the stars in the trenches, from officers to non-commissioned officers to soldiers who wanted to see these two [veterans] who had fought against the army of Randan, and they came together in groups, gossiping about what they knew or heard, or even guessed, and in the midst of their arguments and telling, Latobis was ignorant of what was going on.

Ran Dan's assault began around noon yesterday, and before their positions were destroyed, they had been flattened with countless fortresses and battle lines, and this slaughter and invasion continued until midnight, when most of the world had been taken by these aliens.

Some say that more than 500,000 people were killed by Ran Dan in yesterday's battle, others say 800,000, and some even swear that they may be the last army in the entire world, and Ran Dan has killed more than 2 million people.

The last one is obviously nonsense, and Latobis is well aware that the so-called 23rd Regiment of Kranos has only over a million men in total, and there is not a single civilian in this world except for their hapless defensive forces.

But another topic soon took center stage: the soldiers of the communications squad said that they, having heard from other regiments, had at least a few hundred Angels of Death set out in droves last night, and some said that they had fought fiercely with Randan's army in the largest valley of the planet Sabis 4, and it was said that they had won, while others had lost, and anyway, it was certain that when they returned, the number of those Angels of Death had significantly decreased, And Ran Dan's offensive maintained a strange stagnation throughout the second half of the night and early morning, and did not launch a new attack for a long time.

But there are also thorns who contradict it: maybe those angels of death fought a big defeat, and they were all captured by Ran Dan's aliens and then eaten alive.

He was then dragged away by two military discipline officers.

Frightened by this, most people did not have the heart to continue gossiping, and Latobis was finally able to rest well, he slept for a few hours, was awakened by a violent hunger at about three o'clock in the afternoon, and then stiffened up and began to eat and reload.

Everything was the same as before, but Latobis felt a sense of relief, a peace of mind built by safety and ease.

He knew that this was false, it was a deception that blinded his self-knowledge, and he knew that out of his sight, Ran Dan's army was on a rampage, and maybe it would soon hit here and make him repeat what happened yesterday.

But when he saw the many soldiers beside him, when he leaned against the thick earthen ramparts, he still felt reassured: he preferred to think about nothing, not to think about the battle that could not be escaped, not to think about the terrible of Ran Dan, and to immerse himself in a short, wonderful comfort.

It's addictive.

Latobis even wanted to laugh, in fact, he felt some kind of humblest pleasure.

And the joy lasted only a few seconds.

Because when he looked up again, he found strange planes at the end of his vision.

——————

【Killing ......】

No, a duel.

【Massacre ......】

No, no......

[Angry ......]

It should be honor, it should be a decent fight and death!

[Ah, honor......]

Carmen rubbed his head, he felt some discomfort, not physically, but mentally.

【Honors......】

【Duel ......】

The voice seemed to have found a trick, and it began to whisper things that Carmen couldn't deny.

[Overlord] had a gloomy face, and it lowered its head, listening to the report of the assistant officer: the deployment of the vanguard, fighter planes, artillery positions and scientific troops.

But it didn't care, its mind and chest were tormented by the constant whispering, the constant desire to swing the blade in its hand, and for a moment, it couldn't even suppress the desire.

【Swing ......】

[Just wave the knife and let the blood flow.] 】

For a moment, whether it was the babbling assistant next to it, or the fools in front of him who flaunted their pathetic prowess......

Anyone can kill it.

It can kill them, killing all living creatures, from warriors to slaves, and even its compatriots...... It's okay, raise the butcher's knife and let the blood flow......

No, no, no!

It shouldn't be this way!

[Carmen, my child. 】

A new voice burst in, and it was [Manipulator] who realized on the distant battle moon that something seemed to be wrong with his proudest work.

[What's wrong with you, your mind is very unstable, I see something not very good around your consciousness. 】

[Overlord] squinted.

"No, father, I'm fine."

Are you sure? 】

"Yes, I'm fine, I've regained control of my body and mind, just like before."

Carmen's tone was hurried, and it was clear that once it did admit the truth, then its adoptive father would definitely take it back to the rear of the war.

Are you kidding!

You'd better be fine, my child, I don't have the energy to think carefully about your words right now. 】

[Battle Marshal] voice was tired, even for a soteric monster like it, controlling so many individuals was still a difficult feat.

Do you hear the whispers? My Child】

Answer truthfully, and don't deceive me. 】

"There have been ...... But not anymore. ”

Whispers still ringed in Carmen's ears.

【…… All right. 】

It heard a sigh.

Watch out for the whispers, my child, for it's the scariest thing in the galaxy...... The rulers of our race once thought they could cooperate and friendship with the gods of the void, but I have seen them in the end. 】

[If you feel wrong, come back immediately.] 】

"Do not deceive me, do not deceive your father. 】

【My Carmen ......】

It still wanted to say something, but its voice was getting weaker and weaker, and Carmen just stood there, quietly waiting for the sound to die out completely.

"I see."

It spoke, then continued to listen to the whispers in its ear.

It has learned not to hate them.

【Honors......】

【Duel ......】

[Bloody ......]

It doesn't hate the words.

"Prepare to attack."

The Overlord gave the order, and as its corps prepared for the roar of war, the Overlord simply quietly stroked his left arm: there was a neat row of scars, seven in all.

Whenever a great battle takes place, enough to satisfy and delight it, it writes it down.

It hopes that the eighth path will come soon.

——————

[If you count me, it's eight people, and the winning rate will naturally be higher.] 】

Are you sure you don't think about it anymore? 】

Morgan was laughing, beads of sweat shining on her forehead and cheeks, her wet hair sticking to her sideburns and neck like a shy willow tree.

And the Dark Angel just looked at her and didn't answer.

"Stay here and wait for us to come back."

He said, and walked out, leaving Morgan to stare at a room full of anti-psionic devices: these things together might really make an alpha-class as fragile as a mortal.

But they didn't affect Morgan's thoughts at all.

She could feel that Randan's army was coming like hungry locusts, and they had to face twenty thousand defenders stationed in the fortified fortress, and eight dark angels who had emerged from Terra: each of them was more dangerous than the twenty thousand mortals combined.

On the other side, she felt the kindness of four small ones, who were trudging through the wind with great difficulty, and it seemed that it would take some time to arrive.

Morgan nodded his chin and began to think about whether he should intervene casually to ensure that his current favorite characters are not absent from the show.

She was thinking about it when she suddenly felt some kind of strange aura, a scream of extreme danger and tension, constantly reminding her to retreat and give up.

And her instinct was to bare her teeth at something, a roar of fear rather than anger.

She squinted her eyes and looked closely, but she saw a crimson mist in the sea of souls: it had no purpose or thought, as if it were only drawn by the breath of war and destruction that lingered over the bridge, and from the cracks between reality and nothingness, it poured out a laugh like a bull and a great hound, like a most brutal king laughing at the blood of the arena.

She could even see the mist slowly approaching her, circling and flaunting around her like a savage snake.

Morgan grimaced, and tentatively stretched out a psionic tentacle that could be severed at any moment, reaching out to the crimson mist.

And then......

Then they bypassed her in disgust.

……

Gan.