Like the brightest and hottest fireball, the Tears of Reason fell from the sky and fell straight into the nest of ants.

Huge crashes and waves of air swept in all directions, setting off storms of steel, and in this torrential rain of blood and iron, the army of dark angels streamed out of the cabin.

And what greeted them was the army of Ran Dan, which was as dense as an ant colony.

Tens of thousands of Randan warriors and flesh slaves gathered from all corners of the battle moon, and compared to the high-spirited Astarte warriors, these fanatical or forced alien elites also did not lack the determination and motivation to fight to the death, they continued to advance against the impenetrable fire net, and in the blink of an eye, they crawled all over every corner of the relic warship.

In this way, the first battle broke out in the cabins and decks of the Relic Battleship, hundreds of dark angels and dozens of times more formidable opponents fought in the corridors and cabins, the heat of the deflagrating weapons, the blazing heat of the energy beams, and the downpour of explosive bombs illuminated the faces and lives of each warrior.

At least thirty of the best Astarte warriors fell one after another in the most chaotic hand-to-hand combat, while the fighting brothers who were still alive trampled on hundreds of xenomorph corpses to clear the Shura field.

Then, they rushed out of the battleship and burned the flames of war to the land of Randan, where an almost untold number of alien scum awaited them, and the ranks of the Dark Angels were completely dispersed in a melee-to-face encounter.

The complete organizational structure no longer exists, and the battle group composed of dozens, dozens, or even only a few veterans has become the main force that continues to fight, and they have erected one wall of flesh and blood in the frenzy of the Randan army through the tacit understanding cultivated by intermittent communicators and the long battle.

But this is not the case for all warriors, some are unfortunately separated from all of their fighting brothers, and most of them end up drowning in an endless xenomorph frenzy after killing dozens or even hundreds of times more enemy troops.

But there are always some lucky ones.

——————

"Die."

Hector spat out a short rebuke.

With his voice, the great sword that shimmered with a constant green light slashed through the cold and thin air with a piercing sound like a sharp scythe slicing through a field of wheat.

The Randan warrior in front of him fell in response, and with the fatal blow, its throat began to spurt profane blood, staining Astarte's armor.

But the Nova of the Second Legion didn't let his guard down, he raised his Explosive Gun and sent a blazing fire into the alien's chest until it was completely reduced to a corpse, as described in the tactics book.

After doing all this, Hector raised his head and looked around: he had completely separated from Astarte's army, and was now surrounded by the corpses of all kinds of aliens, some of which belonged to Ran Dan, and some of which were terrifying aliens that he had never heard of.

Victory and slaughter were not without cost, Hecht's right arm was completely pierced by the dying blow of a Randan warrior, Senbai's bones were exposed to the air, feeling the bone-chilling cold, and in the chest and legs, large and small wounds and knife marks were constantly repeating the eternal cycle of bleeding and scarring, and the blades of the Randan soldiers were often smeared with strange poisons, and even the firm nerves of the Astarte warriors were deeply disturbed.

At the same time, his ears caught more gasps and roars: more and more xenomorphs had been drawn to the battle here, like vultures surrounding a dying lion.

He might die here.

Such thoughts flashed through Hecht's mind.

But he just held the big sword and kept going.

"In fact, sometimes, death is not bad news, but the so-called eternity, which can be a kind of torture."

For some reason, at this moment, the words of the battle brother Tarasin swirled in his mind, and he remembered how the humorous senior sat in his chair and spoke it in a tone that could be called lonely.

He also remembered that when others continued to ask, it was clear that the Tarasin brothers did not want to talk about the topic again.

And just as Hector was immersed in his memories, he heard a strange sound.

That's wailing.

Hundreds, thousands, if not thousands, of xenomorphs wailed.

The sound was so harsh, terrible, and twisted, as if their souls were being sucked alive by some indescribable monster.

Hector moved his shoulders a little, and he tread cautiously on his steps, little by little, toward the source of the voice.

Crossing the road worthy of a mountain of corpses and blood, he finally came to the place of an open feast, where he saw the figure.

The silvery-white figure.

——————

Clause...... Three thousand?

Or five thousand?

Morgan yawned lazily, her eyes closed, revealing her neat teeth and pink tongue peacefully into the cold air.

It's like an idle Persian cat.

In this way, the blue-eyed Persian cat was sitting leisurely on a hill piled up by the corpses of hundreds of Randan warriors, its two long legs intertwined, one arm standing on the corpse, supporting its almost paralyzed body, while the other hovered in mid-air, snapping its fingers from time to time.

Whenever this voice sounded, there would be a collective wail and struggle over most of the battle moon covered by Morgan's will, and Randan's army looked at everything in front of them in amazement: their comrades suddenly began to roar and suffer wildly, constantly tearing their armor, and even gnawing at their comrades in a frenzy, and this madness would last for more than ten seconds, until everyone fell down in unison at the same time, unable to get up again.

Morgan, on the other hand, only opened her mouth, and another wonderful dish was delivered to her door, and after a short digestion, she snapped her fingers again, and thousands of miles away there would be thousands of Randan warriors dying in agony in a new round of struggle.

She had never enjoyed such a feast, tens of thousands of luscious souls rushed under the net of her consciousness, and they were harvested by her in pieces, these blasphemous black crystals may not be as delicious as those of the spirit race, but they are better than the abundance.

She could even feel that with this unprecedented gluttony, her dusty memories were slowly thawing, revealing the tip of the iceberg.

However, the joyful laughter also continued to be debauched in the depths of her heart, getting louder and louder.

Morgan listened to it, and his munching behavior stalled.

Faced with this irresistible, increasingly insolent twisted laughter, she could only ......

Nervous, he continued to munch.

But it wasn't all smooth sailing, and after Morgan devoured about thirty or fifty thousand delicious meals, she realized that a powerful array of light was beginning to gather around her.

There has never been a shortage of psionics in Randan's military array, and even more, because their home planet is close to that terrifying eyeball, and the blasphemous faith is alive and well in the shadows of the Alien Empire, Randan's psionics are often more crazy, powerful, and desperate.

More than a dozen psionic creatures second only to [Battle Marshal] were advancing towards Morgan's location, and they turned into pure black streamers, scrambling to snatch this extremely powerful opponent.

And it did.

Morgan stopped eating for a moment, touched her chin, and thought of something.

——————

When Hector arrived, he couldn't help but be silent for a moment by the scene in front of him.

The alien corpses were piled up here into a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, and the initiator of everything sat on the top of the mountain of the dead, not even his fingers wet.

She was hooking an alien corpse, and Hector could recognize it as a high-level psionic person in the Ran Dan Army, and she looked at the alien's face thoughtfully.

[Fear can give birth to sweetness. 】

[Those who die of fear are indeed more delicious. 】

[It's just that there are some troubles.] 】

She seemed to be muttering to herself, as if she were asking Hecht softly.

So, what causes fear? 】

Hector didn't say anything, he just stood quietly at the foot of the Mountain of Flesh, bowing his head slightly, like the most ordinary guard.

He stood like a stone statue, letting Morgan's whispers wander among the flesh, and then, he heard a few snaps of his fingers, and then a faint number of wails, the twisted sounds that came with the cold wind, and soon vanished without a trace.

Hector listened to the voices, and his heart began to worry about his squad: Salieri, Ajax, and his esteemed Mentor Chiron, with whom he was separated, something that rarely happened.

He began to think about whether to open his mouth...... Request.

Then, he heard a chuckle.

The light of the stars is fair. 】

As long as the traveler does not step out of her realm, she will naturally look at each of them, and the light will shine on their shoulders, so there is no need to worry. 】

[But some travelers can only get the same light and sight, and some ...... You can get more. 】

[After all, even the stars favor the most powerful, loyal, and gifted people.] 】

The voice reached Hecht's ears, and he still stood still, looking sad and joyless.

But in private, Astarte's fingers were clenched together, he didn't know what emotion it was, maybe it was excitement? Or consternation?

Hecht didn't know.

But he knew very well that when the phrase "you can get more" came like a whisper in his ear, at that moment, his heart did beat a moment faster.

Maybe more than a moment.

He stood, listening to whispers, laughter, and the sound of approaching footsteps, until something seemed to float through the air, with his back to him, and sat on his left shoulder.

"Bang ......"

Hector couldn't help but stumble, and his knees made an overwhelmed sound.

It's so heavy......

He murmured involuntarily.

The Persian cat lady, who was about to sit on his shoulder, paused visibly, and then Hector could feel a glimpse of a look that instinctively made him shiver all over.

At that moment, he felt like this......

Weak.

Thankfully, the gaze was finally retracted, and Hector could hear a whispered, swift incantation that he couldn't even hear clearly.

Subsequently, the weight on the shoulders was much lighter.

He could feel the lady leaning against his backpack, her legs crossed, one hand resting on her helmet, the heels of her riding boots and the hem of her gauze skirt beating against his armor.

She seemed to be immersed in low air pressure for a while.

Then, there was another snap of the fingers, this time it seemed to be extraordinarily loud, and the wailing, screaming, and screaming were extraordinarily loud.

Hector waited a little longer, until the depression ended with a sigh of satisfaction.

【Let's go.】 】

A direction appeared out of thin air in his mind.

"Yes...... Lady. ”

Hector replied in a deep voice, looked at the stars above him, and began to move forward.

Above them, a battle of blood and fire was taking place, the stars red with blood, leaving scarlet shadows on the ground.

Shining on the silent corpses.

also shines between the two who are also silent.