The Dark Angel's fleet cleaved through layers of steel and engine-made defenses, rampage through the tide of the Randan army, smashing a bloody course.

This scene is not the first, nor is it the last, not even anything special.

Over the past five Terra standard years, this scene has been repeated over countless sectors, galaxies, and even countless worlds, either as the First Legion's cannons tear through yet another desecrated shell of the Alien Empire, or as the army of Randan rumbled through the human defenses, burying hundreds of Dark Angels in the deadliest void with unspeakable electron pulses and dark matter weapons.

In the desolate, empty, and lifeless galaxy in the northeast of the galaxy, the First Legion and Ran Dan's military forces are constantly changing their offensive and defensive identities, writing the course of the war with hundreds of millions of bones and lamentations.

This is just another small step.

At the forefront was the Sword of Purity, the trophy captured by the First Legion in a forgotten war, except for the Gene Prototype himself and the captain who held the massive battleship, no one remembered when and where it joined the army of the Dark Angels, but this did not prevent it from fighting for the will of the Lord of Humanity, and the flames poured from the unfamiliar muzzles were even more terrifying than ordinary battleships, easily melting the battle line of Randan.

After it, there are the Pride of Cole, the Temple of the Holy Knights, and the Calamity of Herud......

Each ship signified some great tradition, some glorious victory, or some kind of firepower powerful enough to kill the Legion and the world, and the First Legion was so overwhelming that it obscured the light of the stars, casting the shadow of death from the sky on countless worlds.

Hordes of First Legion warships marched along the bloody trail, ensuring that every inch of the Dark Angel's capture would never be lost to Randan, and frigates and drones weaved between the greatest war engines, filling the last void in the dense firepower network.

And after the layers of death are intertwined, the Indomitable Truth's huge shadow that can make a war lose all suspense, the flagship of the genoplasm is like a glorious queen on the battlefield, it does not need to do it herself, countless iron knights and squires swarm around it, scrambling to crush any opponent who dares to approach it to ashes.

Since the outbreak of this battle, it has never struck, never drank blood, and never stopped its steps, the most powerful of warships has taken on a task far more important than killing the enemy in person: along with the direction and rhythm of its advance, countless Imperial warships have also changed direction and firepower, and the changes of those who have approached have affected the ships farther away, until the entire Grand Fleet has changed in unison with the movement of the Indomitable Truth.

From one end of the galaxy to the other, the fleets of the First Legion were scattered in the shadows of more than a dozen worlds, and Randan's manic electronic harassment never stopped, making it difficult for even two adjacent warships to communicate with each other completely, but relying on the silent command of the Glory Queen, the Empire's Grand Fleet maintained a slow but effective rhythm.

And when the Genogen immediately gave the order to let the [Indomitable Truth] point directly at the most important fortress world, the once slow rhythm danced wildly with the sudden acceleration of the Glory Queen, and the entire Imperial fleet condensed into a large sword that spanned the galaxy in the blink of an eye, inexorably clearing Johnson of all obstacles to his goal.

After one Terra standard hour, the last of the Randan warships in its way were also crushed by the gunfire, and the vanguard of the First Legion arrived in the fortress world, but their mission was far from over: above the fortress world, there were still countless behemoth air fortresses and a large number of Randan warships, and they did not intend to give up the world's air supremacy.

The First Legion is like a spear, it has now pierced deep into the galaxy, piercing into the softest core area of the Randan army, but this is not enough to kill this overly large prey, the body of the spear has pierced the heart, but every layer of shell and every piece of flesh it pierced is not completely dead, it is still struggling frantically.

From Mandeville Point, to the left and right of the stars, to the fortress world at the heart of Zandan, every place is fighting, every place is burning, and more war engines are appearing one after another from the shadows, feverishly plunging into the endless vortex of death.

Even on the front line of the Indomitable Truth, the war continued, and more Randan warships noticed the gap opened by the Dark Angel, and they poured in from all directions, eager to expel the spear tip of the Dark Angel from this deadly area, but in the face of the anger of the Queen of Glory finally began to roar, all resistance and counterattack were nothing more than steel chips scattered in the interstellar space.

But even so, these powerful, mad, blasphemous, venerable aliens did not flinch in the slightest, as has happened in every war in the past, as the Sandalwood Order concluded: before their leader is beheaded, the army of Randan will only rush to the grinder of blood and death with great fanaticism.

[The more the beast struggles, the more we really poke at the point.] 】

When more and more figures of Ran Dan desecrated the battleship appeared in his turquoise pupils, Johnson couldn't help but think of this sentence.

She does know a little bit about hunting.

The genetic prototype watched another Ran Dan's capital ship disappear in the fire of the [Indomitable Truth], he narrowed his eyes, watching the projection of the [World No. 6] in front of him being completely projected on the electronic screen, he was very sure that Ran Dan's command structure was in this world.

This is not a difficult reasoning, since the Indomitable Truth sailed into this galaxy under his command, he has driven this battleship, implicated the entire fleet of the First Legion, and constantly launched tentative attacks and breakthroughs on the front of Randan, in order to find this deadliest target: Randan's command center.

When he found that the bow of the [Indomitable Truth] pointed to the seemingly ordinary [World Six], the assembly and defense of the Randan battleships were obviously more impatient, impulsive, and even reckless, and their firepower was also significantly increased.

He knew he had found that purpose.

This is not a complicated technique, and he has learned it by the time he hunts or hunts in the deep forests of Caliban: beasts may be cunning, they hide their intentions through confrontation and roaring, but with a few quick and detailed attacks, their instinctive reaction will reveal their most vulnerable.

The alien is nothing more than a beast.

Johnson watched in silence as the last obstacle to the surface was removed, and Randan's warships were still fighting back, but the Dark Angel's fleet had firmly occupied an area above the [World of Six], an area large enough for the airborne operation to be carried out.

At this moment, two different footsteps sounded behind Johnson.

Everything was just right.

——————

[Couss, you will take over my command. 】

[Aracos, gather your Knights and prepare to land with me.] 】

Johnson's order was carried out most thoroughly, and the Ninth Knights and all the people of the five hundred began to appear and shuttle through the corridors of the battleship, and in the blink of an eye they assembled in front of the drop pod.

As a killing warrior entered the chamber, the iron cages filled with the deadly Grim Reaper listened to the sound of the ship's hatch being brushed open, and the pure black light of the void began to caress the silent death conveyors, mixed with silent crimson ripples, which were still fighting for air supremacy.

The huge iron claws grabbed the iron coffins of death, picked them out one by one, and placed them around the left and right of the ship's side railing, placed in the shadows of the void, like a god showing off the sword in his hand.

Johnson stood in front of his exclusive drop pod, frowning, but fortunately, before he could completely lose his patience, he heard the distinctive footsteps.

This time, the footsteps seemed a little flustered, losing their once leisurely rhythm.

[You're late. 】

Looking at the silver figure walking quickly, the voice of the genoplasm was as cold as ever.

Then, he raised his eyebrows slightly, sensing the chaotic aura in the air, which came from Morgan's side, and he recognized it as some kind of psionic energy.

[What's going on?] 】

[The observation mission just now disrupted my psionic mind network a bit, but it has been controlled and will not affect the next mission.] 】

She whispered briskly, and the genogen could see a few drops of sweat hanging from her sideburns.

Johnson nodded and did not continue to ask.

With his command, the shackle was retracted, and the raging flames of the thruster lit up the silent void, dragging out a long cloud of smoke and dust like meteors, and countless gunboats followed closely this puff of smoke, flying out of the shadow of the [Indomitable Truth], protecting both sides of the drop bay, and behind them, the [Indomitable Truth] and the hundreds of laser weapon arrays and gun barrels of the other warships were launching a salvo at all costs, suppressing all the anti-aircraft fire of the Randan alien on the ground as much as possible.

The first batch of dozens of drop pods quickly tore through the outermost layer of empty gas in [World Six], and their shell armor emitted a blinding light that gradually changed colors as it passed through the atmosphere: from red flames, to orange burning, and finally a cluster of pure white miniature suns streaked across the sky like a violent meteor shower, and the fierce tropospheric hurricane and powerful friction caused these multi-ton metal creations to shake from side to side.

But that's not the biggest threat, as the pure white meteors began to emerge from the sky, and the ground was filled with the fortress colonies of the Randan warriors, instantly pouring out terrifying tongues of fire that could burn the world, tens of millions of fires and cannonballs pounced on the fallen Grim Reaper, most of them were reduced to nothingness in front of the equally roaring Stormbird gunboats, and the rest were all struck on the invisible protective shield around all the drop pods, like a torrential rain pouring down on a pond, with countless ripples.

——————

Inside the drop pod, Morgan frowned.

She sat in the second seat on Johnson's left-hand side, next to the Grand Tutor of the Ninth Knights, Arachos, and on the other side was a Legionary Tutor named Astra.

It was a carefully chosen position, as Johnson's greatsword was always in his right hand, which meant that with a slight lift of his hand, the blade of his sword could be pointed at Morgan's neck.

But it's not that that upsets Morgan, nor is it the Randan who is rampage outside the drop bay to let out his fire: as long as it's not a direct hit by a battleship's main gun, the psionic shield she's placed outside all the drop pods is invulnerable.

What upset her was something else.

Sweat, sweat gathered on her sideburns again, she felt a slight headache, and a mood called irritability was about to stir like a volcano awakened in her heart.

And it all came from her heart, the sea of her soul, her realm of thought that had been carved up by the three evil gods, and at this moment, it had become a mess, and countless alien souls were flowing freely on the ground and in mid-air, interfering with her thoughts.

For five years, even Morgan himself didn't know how many alien souls she had devoured, but there was no doubt that the twin sons of desire and greed had been driving her to join every fierce battle with Ran Dan, to devour and plunder more.

And this excessive greed has its own consequences.

Get out of hand.

The situation is somewhat out of control.

But not completely out of control, she is still firmly in control and can come up with a remedy.

In fact, Morgan realized this very early on, she devoured too many souls, so much that she could not calm down and truly digest them, these dazed lonely souls were thrown into her mind realm at will, although they were not a threat in themselves, but after the number reached such a large point, it also caused trouble.

This occasional headache, irritability, and lack of concentration were only the slightest recruitment, but Morgan's naturally cautious and crazy personality made her notice it at once, and she did not intend to delay the issue, because she was not sure where her upper limit was, and perhaps devouring even one more soul would completely crush her mind realm.

She had to figure it out.

At the time when this thought germinated, a most violent shock suddenly struck, and the drop cabin seemed to have smashed into something, and there was the sound of the earth shaking and shaking.

Apparently, they landed.

Bolts loosened, hatches peeled, restraint cages cracked with all these movements, loud noises and relentless waves pierced everyone's ears, and the night, which had turned white in the firelight, took the opportunity to re-spill its own light into the place.

But before Morgan's eyes could fit the light, a swift figure flashed before her eyes.

Leon Johnson, like a real lion who had been hungry for more than ten days, rushed into the night, eagerly raised his gun, brandished his sword, and cleared the most basic foothold in the blink of an eye.

Morgan took a deep breath, she stood up, and after all the Astartes rushed out one after another, she slowly blew a breath into the palm of her hand, and then slowly walked into the night.

And on her fingertips, there were countless hissing sounds, and if you listened closely, you would find that they were thousands of souls wailing to the bone.

(End of chapter)