In the night, Carlil sees first burning flames, then collapsed ruins.

A large hole was blown open at the edge of the arena, and a truncated face appeared in the intact walls of the building tens of meters high, as if someone had cut a piece out of thin air with a huge blade. It's not like the traces that the explosion should have left behind.

He approached quickly, but out of the corner of his eye, he could catch a glimpse of blue beneath the burning ruins. As soon as his eyes froze, Karil immediately stopped, and lifted up the ruins with three strikes and five divisions, and the buried warrior beneath it was deep in a pool of blood, apparently his own.

There was a scorched black mark on his power armor, a large hole in his chest, the cables were exposed and sparkling, and his own chest was in tatters, as terrible as if it had been bombarded head-on. Carlil pulled him out in silence, a blue light flashing in his eyes.

He tore off the wounded's helmet, took a closer look at his features, and only after making sure that there was no bleeding from his eyes, ears, mouth, nose and nose did he carry him out of the rubble. After being healed with psionic energy, he raised his right hand and used the communication channel to notify the commander of the second company in the city.

After receiving an affirmative answer, Carlil entered the ruins again.

He stepped over the flames and the collapsing walls, as fast as a ghost, flames flickering, smoke billowing, wooden chairs placed in the stands as catalysts for the flames to spread. He walked all the way, but the most things he saw along the way were corpses.

Six of the dead were Ultramarines, their bodies shattered, blackened marks spreading across the shards of the armor, but the U-shaped emblem still shone. Carlil silently gathered their corpses, led them away from the ruins, and re-entered.

The fire grew stronger and spread with no mercy. The smoke was loud and pungent and choking, but it was of no use to him. His vision is still clear and his hearing is still sharp. He could hear a subtle sound coming from the crackling of burning, which was carried by an imperceptible breeze and was mercilessly captured by him.

Carlil turned his head and sped away in that direction.

Along the way, he could see more corpses, but they no longer belonged to the Ultramarines, but some corpses made from blasters.

Many of them died still holding weapons, a kind of metal gun that glowed silver, and did not appear to be a live-fire weapon.

Moving on, he walked past the sand pit that had begun to change from the heat and its edge filled with some kind of acid, and reached the front of a cavern with shards of molten black metal slowly deforming at the edge and broken chunks of metal on the ground. Carlil knew that there should have been a gate here before.

And that's where the sound comes from.

He was about to enter, but a fast, nervous, unfamiliar language came from inside the cave. Carlil slowly narrowed his eyes and raised his hands, deliberately using a speed that could be seen by ordinary people.

He could see the man who was aiming at him inside the cavern, so he didn't want to be misunderstood. After a few seconds, a man armed with a metal firearm walked out, his body covered with many scars, the most conspicuous of which was the claw mark on his chest.

Carlil could see that it was the mark of some kind of beast that had left him on the side, and that it would prove his identity - the Colosseum certainly couldn't just allow gladiators to fight each other, and fighting dangerous beasts could also make tickets sell very well.

He stared blankly at the man, who fell into some kind of eerie daze. His body trembled slightly, and there was a terrible complexity in his expression. After a while, he lowered his gun and made a gesture for Carlil to go in with him.

Carlil lowered his raised hands, but he didn't answer, he lowered his head, and a blue light flashed in his eyes again.

"Nope." Carlil said. "Before I do that, I need to ask you a few questions."

The man looked at him in surprise, and his vigilance resurfaced, and he raised his gun: "Who are you?"

"I'm Karil Lohars, an instructor of the Eighth Legion of the Human Empire, who are you?"

"What... What empire?" The man frowned. "Where are you from?" Your accent is so weird

。」

Strange of course, I've only just learned your language.

Raising his hand, Karil pointed to the sky.

"What do you mean by that?" The man asked.

"I am from heaven, beyond the stars." Carlil said. "Believe it or not, but that's what it is."

The man looked at him, still not putting down the gun in his hand. Carlil met him calmly, knowing of course that his words would sound no different from a madman's whispering to a gladiator, but he didn't want to lie.

What's more, he could sense the subtle emotions in the man's heart—he instinctively felt fear when he saw Carlil, but he raised his gun anyway.

And when he saw Carlil's face, the fear dissipated, and in its place was a strange joy that was strange because it was not his own. And, along with this joy, there is a kind of sympathy and sadness.

Sympathize with whom? And for whom is it grieving?

「...... So, you're from the same place as those blue giants?" After a while, the man asked.

"They're called Ultramarines." Carlil said. "Belong to the Human Empire like me, but not from the same place as me. They are here to liberate you."

"Liberation?"

"Just so that you don't have to be gladiators."

The man looked at him blankly, as if he didn't understand his words. After a while, he put the gun down again, and wiped his face with a trembling, blood-soaked hand, "My name is Karelian, and I'm from the Sands of Noll."

"My name is Karil Lohals, and I'm from Nostramo."

"Carlil?" Karelian recited his name, and it was not easy to pronounce the three syllables in Nukeria's native language, but he did it anyway, though it seemed a little stumbling.

Then he made the gesture again. "You should come in, those blue warriors, they need your help."

Carlil nodded at him and followed him into the cavern. Karelian surprised him without hesitation, but without forgetting to explain to him, he whispered as he led Carlil into the cavern.

"The guards of the Colosseum fought with them to the underground caverns, the tall warriors were brave, but there were too few of them now, there were only three of them. We're helping them, but we can't help much, this arena belongs to the Talco family, and they have a lot of guards stationed......

Carlil didn't speak, just silently jotted down the name of the Talco family.

He followed Karelian through the cave, his four-meter-tall body walking in it without looking embarrassed, Karelian looked up at him, and suddenly laughed, a little strangely sad.

"Since Angland was twelve, they have widened the entire underground cavern...... You should thank him, Carlile, or you might get your head knocked over."

"Angelon?"

"Don't you know him?" Karelian asked rhetorically. "I thought you'd know him."

"I come from beyond the stars, from a place that is almost out of reach of you...... So it's unlikely that I knew him. Who is he?"

Karelian was silent for a moment, then answered his question in a very soft voice, "He's just like you."

"Like me?"

"As tall as you, as unhuman as you." Karelian said. "I understood when I saw you, just as I saw him for the first time. You're all different from us, and honestly, Carlile, I was scared myself when I pointed a gun at you."

The gladiator pretended to laugh bravely, as if he was laughing at himself, as if he was taking the opportunity to tell the truth.

Carlil paused, and an unlikely guess emerged that he should have thought that Carrelian was lying, but the subtle emotions in the latter's heart at the moment did not escape his perception.

So, Carlil took a deep breath.

"How tall is he?"

"A little shorter than you......"

"Where is he now?"

Karelian also stopped, turned his head in the darkness, and smiled a complicated smile at Carlil.

"Fighting." He said. "Alone."

-----------------

Lacifo Palpas of the 2nd Company of the 1st Ultramarines felt the urge to vomit, and he lowered his head, but vomited a burst of shards of internal organs, and the smell of blood filled his mouth. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he seemed calm.

Turning his head, he saw that their pharmacist, Fritz, was bandaging a woman, her abdomen oozing blood and her neck twitching abnormally.

Racifo could tell she was suffering from the aftermath of the explosion, but, to be honest, it was good luck for the gladiator to survive. Many of their brothers did not have this good fortune compared to her.

Thinking of this, Rashif's mind flashed one name after another, and the faces to which these names referred.

He couldn't help but clench his right hand slowly, and the metal collided and creaked. However, Rashifo knew that would not help.

The explosion came too suddenly, too untraceable. The guards of the arena were clearly aware of the situation, and they were clearly defeated by the beating, but they roared excitedly and charged after the explosion.

And the reformed soldiers who use silver tentacles as weapons......

Rashford pursed his lips, and beside him, the Tampa Forss Sergeant of the squad was still working tirelessly on his current business—calling out their commander in the communication channel and trying to report back on the situation.

"This is Sergeant Tampa Versus, repeat, this is Sergeant Tampa Versus, we were attacked by unknown local psykers in the Colosseum, and seven brothers were missing. There are three of us left, and we are fighting them in the underground caverns of the Colosseum, and we need support."

There was no answer in the channel, and the gladiators held their weapons—spears, daggers, swords, and axes—as they watched Sergeant Tampa Versus make the incessant noise, and several of them had sympathy in their eyes, as if they thought he was crazy.

Rashifo knew he didn't, but he felt that the sergeant should be soon. After all, their ability to communicate had been completely destroyed in that explosion. Needless to say, their superiors could not have heard their pleas fail to reply.

Furthermore, the sergeant stubbornly believed that it was a psionic explosion...... This simply makes no sense. They didn't have any evidence that it was an attack caused by psykers.

Sighing, Rashifo stretched out his hand to persuade the sergeant to stop doing this futile and useless work. They must now leave this underground cavern with this group of civilians on their own, and the honor of the Ultramarines cannot be lost.

But no sooner had he stretched out his hand than he heard an inhuman roar—from the depths of the rock, with an unrivalled fury, like the roar of a beast.

Racifo was immediately alert, he gripped his chainsaw sword, and although it didn't activate immediately, he was ready to face the attacking beast.

Turning his head, he looked at the group of gladiators, trying to get something out of their reactions, but they were calm. And the woman who had been twitching next to the pharmacist had calmed down at the moment.

She opened her mouth and slowly spat out three syllables. Rasifo frowned, and repeated it in Gorgothic: "Ann-Ge-Lang?"

He didn't know what that meant, but he felt that every syllable sounded like a roar. The sergeant stopped calling and simply stood up.

"Prepare for battle." He commanded briefly. "No one can hurt this group of civilians until we are all dead, they show us the way to escape the fire and encirclement, so we must protect them."

"Understood." Rashifo replied in a low voice.