In the first hundred and seventy-four hours of the war, Morgan felt a trace of weariness, a trace of weariness on the level of the soul.

She was wounded, and there were faint cracks in the tips of her fingers and nails, like the result of a stone knocked on a mountain.

If you pay full attention and feel it carefully, you can see a soreness and slight pain like a mosquito bite, lingering on her fingertips.

This even made Morgan feel a palpable sense of anger and shame.

Tens of thousands of Randan wizards have followed one another in the previous bloody day, both their souls and their spirits, under the dual influence of an abnormal fanaticism and violent energy, becoming extremely dangerous, irritable and unstable, when they slit their veins and throats, and let the last gasp converge into some kind of ominous cloud, even Morgan will feel a certain threat and fear.

Such injuries came from Ran Dan's fifteenth attack, and she remembered very well that the alien wizard clusters would learn more blood lessons each time, and by the time the fifteenth impact came, they had developed into a real threat, a fierce and desperate act of death.

There were as many as ten individuals as powerful as Ahriman alone: at this point in time, the son of Magnus, who was a keen drinker and winemaker, was far from that powerful, he had only just become the youngest company commander in the Thousand Sons Legion, and had a rudimentary place among the psykers of the whole galaxy.

But despite this, the power gathered by the ten Ariman was still not to be underestimated by anyone in the galaxy, they were fully prepared before entering this galaxy, and when Morgan's attention was slightly tilted by another large-scale attack by the Randan fleet, the powerful souls of the ten daring turned into a sharp arrow that could not be returned, piercing countless stars in an instant.

The arrow slashed through the sea of souls surging with countless slaughter and death as fast as it could, and with the cover of millions of wailing souls, it succeeded in leaving scars on the Spider Queen's soul beyond her expectations.

Shock, doubt, and anger took Morgan's next breath, and the alien wizard seized this golden opportunity: countless long-prepared spells and soul killings were thrown into the bloody battlefield at the forefront of the battle at this moment, tens of thousands of mortal warriors fell in agony, countless captains and sailors stopped their breathing and held on, and slept forever in the cold steel.

A breakthrough has been made on the battle line, an unimaginably huge breakthrough, hundreds of warships of the Human Empire have been affected and affected, and after Johnson once again commanded them to stabilize the battle line, the void power in his hands has shrunk by about one-fifth, and even the air supremacy over the fortress community has been lost by a small half.

And in that second, the genogen heard a sharp roar, a scream that was clearly from his blood relative.

Johnson's brow furrowed.

She was rarely so angry.

With countless alien souls burning in agony, the Spider Queen's cry of rage slid over and over again like Motarian's scythe through every dark corner of the galaxy, an almost irrational blow that Morgan could barely remember and control to avoid all humans.

Once, twice, three times......

Bloody and mournful everywhere.

It wasn't until the Soul Drinker's rare anger quickly dissipated into her usual rationality and calmness that the brief storm subsided in countless deaths: the strangulation over and over again wiped out all the wizards in the galaxy and even near the subspace gap, the flames of the stars erupted in the Empress's wrath, devouring the unfortunate Randan battleship, the storm suddenly raged at the intersection of the two worlds, and the roaring invisible dragon devoured the outermost worlds of the galaxy and the vast expanse of starry sky near them, Let hundreds of millions of xenomorph legions about to be thrown into battle consume their desecrated lives in suffocation and panic.

The terrible atrocities dealt a near-fatal blow to this unfortunate galaxy, and the fragile balance between the real universe and the vast abyss was finally completely broken in Morgan's rage, and invisible waves and eternal darkness began to appear on the other side of the galaxy, engulfing these worlds waiting for death little by little.

The balance had been broken, and even the most sensitive psionics could hear staccato whispers in their ears, and they could feel the power of their souls and wills surging and furious like never before.

With the final curtain already crumbling, Morgan finally pinned on the exact location of her target.

She first stroked her own wounds, and even though these small wounds cost countless lives and wailing souls of Wizard Randan, the Spider Empress still felt a kind of anger.

For the past ten years, she has ravaged the lives of these aliens with an almost rampaging attitude, and with the exception of a few rare occasions, all the hardships and exhaustion of the battlefield are merely an illusion to hide her brother's senses.

But now, when she was really hurt: even a wound that the most fragile mortal wouldn't care about was enough to make her feel a kind of provocation and offense.

What qualifications do these alien hauls, the saddest garbage at the lowest end......

A thirst for revenge burned in her breast, and in her rationality and rigor appealed to her own worth, Morgan left room for thought, and while fulfilling her duty, she began to count the number of souls remaining in the cage, to observe the weakest point of the veil, and to deduce the best time when her prey would be captured.

At the same time, Ran Dan's fleet was still advancing, eroding the territory of the void little by little in countless blood and tears.

From the beginning to the end, these aliens never stopped, no matter what the cost of each advance they had, but there was always a stronger impetus to encourage every Randan soldier to rush to the Empire's defenses.

Ran Dan's army was like a hungry locust swarm, overwhelming, endless, and countless deaths and blood did not stop their increasingly frantic invasion, which even made many imperial warriors feel a kind of heartfelt emotion and admiration: before this, such a resolute and tenacious will to fight, they had only seen it in the army loyal to the Lord of Mankind.

The noble warriors of Terra have long believed that loyalty and faith are the only reason they continue to win wars and conquests, and now, apparently, on the other side of the vast and bloody star map, there are like-minded adversaries.

By the seventh day of the war, the losses had already been made, and they were already out of control: even with the almost miraculous support of his own blood relatives, the knight king of Caliban was still unable to perform miracles under such a large number of suppression, in fact, every second that this thin front could survive was enough for the most discerning warriors to begin to worship the genetic prototype of the First Legion.

After several days of sleepless fighting and purging, the Dark Angel's fleet was finally crushed by the endless Randan War Engine Group, and the once sophisticated and ruthless firepower network was constantly broken through by the Alien Vanguard with an almost suicidal offensive, and the original battle column fire and the mutual destruction of various strange firepower were transformed into the most barbaric, primitive, but unexpectedly effective naval warfare method:

Gang hopping.

Countless torpedoes and teleportation rays began to spring up in the void, and the immobile orbital fortresses were the first targets to fall in hand-to-hand combat, blood soaking every inch of steel and every room until one of the invaders and defenders fell.

The best of the Randan Overlords and the most trusted Dark Angels fought to the death in the dark corridors and broken lights, their lives and blood flowing through each other's battles until they all disappeared into the depths of the fortress, in the silent and eternal darkness.

And when one of them, with the help of martial arts, dexterity, and luck, succeeds in chopping off the head of his opponent, the minds of the calmest warriors will only be completely occupied by one thought.

——————

Next!

The axe roared, piercing through the icy air and the wind, easily splitting the first opponent's helmet and face.

The Shadow Champion stepped forward, his shoulder and elbow slammed into the breastplate of the first Randan soldier, and with the help of special armor, he heard the sound of armor, bones, and internal organs shattering together.

He grabbed the Alien's arm gripping the gun with one hand, pushed its tall, cold body, and broke through the crumbling walls and iron gates all the way to the narrow courtyard outside, where the oncoming second opponent was stunned for a moment before he hurriedly pressed the trigger.

The gunshots led to more attacks, and it wasn't until a dozen gunshots completely smashed the dead Ran Dan soldier into a sieve that its companions looked at the emptiness behind the broken body and frowned in confusion.

Sixteen of Randan's soldiers crowded into the courtyard, lingering for a few seconds in anxiety and prevarication before they separated from the squad of several people and slowly stepped over the battered corpses of their companions into the shadows of the ruined buildings.

And the moment the boots hit the ground, a faint sound sounded, and the alien soldiers turned their heads one after another, only to see their companion standing at the back shaking his body and falling between the gray dust, it did not bleed, only a small scar on the back of the neck that no one could see.

Panic spread in an instant, for the dead was standing in the emptiest place, with only the shadows of a few companions around it, and the alien soldiers looked at each other in incredible emotion, and before their questions could be spat out of their mouths, the sound of a heavy object falling to the ground smashed into their ears.

This time, a few dozen meters away, a pioneer who had already walked into the building, and it was separated by an entire team from the previous one.

At this moment, fear completely exploded in the hearts of every alien.

Countless roars, rages, panics, and mutual doubts filled the air for a moment, and the survivors brandished their muzzles and blades, their eyes either suspiciously on their companions or searching in panic, even the slightest sound of wind made these brutal warriors more than two meters tall tremble inadvertently.

A shadow seemed to stand on the wall of the ruined building, as if the light of the claws could be seen from its end.

Above them, in the gray sky, there seemed to flash a sharp silhouette that pierced the air and dust.

There seemed to be the sound of countless wings flapping into the air in the shadows on the left, and in the darkness on the right, there seemed to be a pair of scarlet eyes that belonged to a bird of prey.

Panic, doubt, anxiety, indiscriminate firing and roaring at each other: the aliens are constantly falling, almost every alternation of breaths takes a life, and the fall of each companion leaves the only remaining reason to be smashed by the hammer of madness.

"Retreat!"

Someone roared loudly, it was the closest to the exit that shone with countless lights, and it seemed to want to turn around, but at the moment when the muzzle of its gun moved, an invisible wind pierced through its head, and its body and armor fell heavily, kicking up countless dust.

"Nope! Come to me and we will unite! ”

At the same moment as the carnage broke out, there were also people who were constantly tugging at their comrades, eager to form a group that could trust each other's backs, but such efforts were destined to come to an abrupt end: its mouth was so long that when a ray of light pierced its teeth and tongue, a large stream of fishy blood sprayed on the opposing allies.

Blood, death, panic, and more despair spread through the courtyard, all over the head and heart of every Randan soldier in a matter of breaths: even the sniper who had been observing the place could only swallow his own saliva, and its detector was almost overclocking: for an incredible figure was moving in front of it at unimaginable speed, harvesting its comrades one after another, but even if it stared open, it could not see the shadow of the assailant.

Eventually, it pulled the trigger and chose a direction with its sniper instinct.

The special bullet was enough to pierce the walls and Randan's armor, and it made a constant puncture sound in the wind, tormenting everyone's ears and nerves until its journey was stopped in less than a second.

The giant hand protected by the black armor grabbed the special cutie, and while everyone was frozen for this moment, the Shadow Champion pinched the bullet and completed his turn in mid-air, his giant palm slamming into the side helmets of the enemy behind him with speed and power.

The bullet was still sharp, mercilessly piercing the xenomorph's defenses, wringing all the brain organs one by one, until the limp fell under the bullets fired by friendly soldiers.

The sniper took a deep breath, it finally saw its opponent, but it was powerless: it was the last Randan soldier who had just been killed.

Run!

It suddenly thought of this, and its body had already moved long before that, and it held its sniper rifle, and leaped to its feet, turned around, and stepped out.

Then it slammed into the armor of the Astarte warriors.

The Shadow Champion was standing right there, behind it, and he looked like he'd been waiting for a while.

It still wanted to breathe, but just before the cold, foul-smelling air touched its throat, it saw a light.

A light that it couldn't see.

——————

The last opponent fell.

This is the eighteenth.

The Shadow Champion looked up, and he recalled the time: he had taken a total of forty-two breaths, and it was quite passable.

He thought so, and then turned his ear to listen to the sounds outside the fortress: the aliens who were deployed outside the fortress obviously didn't know what had happened to their comrades, and they were still sniping Hecht's team as hard as they could, but each round of gunfire was getting more and more sparse.

After a few more rounds, there was only the lonely gunfire of the Astarte warriors.

The Shadow Champion lowered his head, looked at the opponent he had completely disposed of, possessed and picked up something he thought was interesting, and then disappeared again and again to join his temporary teammates.

Infiltrated, and it worked.

(End of chapter)