Jill Baldwin waved his arm and pulled a power sword he picked up on the road out of his enemy's chest.

The owner of the distorted face fell to the ground, the filthy ashes scattered in the wind, and the blue-and-white armor reappeared, Jill Baldwin didn't know why, but he knew the name of each of the brothers he had killed.

He knew it all, but that didn't stop him from continuing to fight.

"Who's next?!" He roared at the enemy on the bridge. "Jill Baldwin, the Hound of Warhounds, is waiting here!"

The next man rushed forward and was brought down by him, but also added a new scar to him. The man fell to the ground, and Gil recognized him as who he was, he was Lo Endlis, of the 3rd Company, and now he was dead, killed by Gil Baldwin, by the own hands of their regimental commander.

But it doesn't matter, I'm not dead yet.

"Next!" The war hounds roared at the sea of scarlet and brass. "Who's next?!"

Next, next, next, then again - the bodies piled up, and Jill Baldwin's body began to drain his blood, but he was still standing.

He was just a few steps away from the bridge and communication instruments. As long as he can win this battle, he will be able to send a communication to the nearest Imperial fleet.

He'd already figured it out, he'd send a code to let them know that this was Jill Baldwin, the commander of the Twelfth Legion's War Hounds, and then he'd give the order that he would have all the Imperial fleets that received the message come and fire at them in the name of the Emperor.

Steadfast Resolve was no longer shielded, the power system and all other systems were shut down, and it only took one or two salvos for the fouled war dogs to disappear into space dust.

He had to.

They have to.

"Next!" Jill Baldwin barked at the darkness, his face hideous, his face long obscured by blood and dust, but his eyes were still bright. "Who's next?!"

There was no answer, and no enemy who pounced on him with a thirst for blood. He looked around and saw the dead eyes of his brothers.

Jill Baldwin threw down the power sword and threw it away like garbage.

He stumbled forward, he knew the bridge of the Steadfast Resolve all too well, and even though it had now become a barely recognizable twisted evil place, he could still recognize the details of its skull.

He spent most of his life here.

He pounced on a device, his hand-clad sweeping over its ripped cables. He then used it as a springboard and propped himself up to another pitch-black platform, which he knew was the place.

Jill Baldwin fell to his knees, then got up again, grabbed the edge of the platform with his almost completely lost hand, and pulled himself up.

I'm going to die. He thought.

He stood up straight, then braced himself up, replacing his weaker legs with an iron platform.

He wiped the dark dust, found a few buttons, and pressed them - Jill Baldwin could feel his life slipping, his eyes almost closed, but he wasn't.

In a few seconds, the machine lit up, a faint blue light flashed in the darkness, and the communication system had emergency energy, which was great.

Jill wanted to laugh, but he didn't have the strength. Outside the porthole in front of him was a pitch-black vacuum, and he breathed in the foul air, without looking at the vacuum, and could hardly feel a slight satisfaction in his heart, which could hardly feel joy and anger.

Cold satisfaction, satisfaction wrapped in death.

He fell to the ground again, and lay on the iron platform—he should have crushed the machine, but he didn't, perhaps because his blood had drained.

Jill Baldwin leaned against it and touched a button with his cheek. The machine began to search for nearby Imperial ships, and then gave him a response with a mechanical sound that creaked.

Unfortunately, Jill Baldwin couldn't hear the response clearly.

He opened his mouth for several seconds before he spoke, first reading out a complex identity code and then touching another button with his cheek to set the broadcast to repeat the broadcast pattern.

At this moment, he began to express his gratitude to the group of correspondents led by Talloran, who pursued efficiency, so they set up this unique communication button, simplifying many complex operations into operations that could be replaced by a single button.

But they also died, all of them died, and their bodies were hung right outside the bridge.

Is there anyone alive on our ship, apart from the enemy?

Jill Baldwin didn't have an answer.

He opened his mouth, his body on the verge of death, but his will was still making him speak, speak clearly.

"This is Jill Baldwin, the Legion Commander of the War Hounds, I have sent the code, and I ask that any Imperial fleet that receives this message open fire on us immediately. It's not a joke, I swear in the name of the Emperor and our Primordial Angrand it's not a joke, whoever you are, fire on us. ”

Thirty seconds, long, short, the last thirty seconds.

He finally finished speaking, and said it clearly, covered in dust and blood.

Jill Baldwin fell to the ground with no warmth or strength left. His eyes were open, his pupils began to dilate, and two dried tears rolled down, streaked through blood and dust, and shattered.

Angelon.

In the final moments of his life, Jill Baldwin, the Hound of War, still silently reciting the name of the original object they had never met.

——

"What do you mean?"

Robert Kiliman asked - he had put on his armor and brought his weapon. He was heavily armed. His brother was different, Angrand was taller than Killiman, and naturally could not wear the armor that was tailor-made for the Lord of Maculag.

However, no one advised him not to participate in this gang jump.

"Literally, Original."

Marius Gage speaks to his primordial body from the bridge via intraship communications.

"We received a broadcast from the Unwavering Resolve, the signal was unfamiliar, not what it looked like in the database, but the broadcaster was correctly coded, he identified himself as the Warhound Commander Jill Baldwin, and he asked us to open fire on the Unwavering Resolve."

Kiriman turned his head and stood in his private arsenal to look at his brother. Angron frowned, and Killiman said, "Play this voice." ”

"Are you sure, Original?" Marius Gage asked.

"I'm sure."

Seconds later, a voice that cannot be described in words rang out in Robert Killiman's private arsenal.

"This is Jill Baldwin, the Legion Commander of the War Hounds, I have sent the code, and I ask that any Imperial fleet that receives this message open fire on us immediately. It's not a joke, I swear in the name of the Emperor and our Primordial Angrand it's not a joke, whoever you are, fire on us. ”

Silent.

Robert Killiman looked back at his brother and saw that Angrand's face was changing at a slow pace.

"Primordial?"

"What's the matter?"

"Are we going to open fire?"

“.”

Killiman didn't answer, he looked at his brother again, and Angron had closed his eyes, his expression gradually becoming a terrifying vortex that Robert Kiriman could not comprehend.

Suddenly Killiman understood one thing with his extraordinary powers of observation, the only thing his brother wanted to do at the moment.

He wanted to find the man who made his legion like this, and then he wanted revenge.

Revenge.

The concept appeared in an instant, the lights of the arsenal began to flicker on and off, and the characteristic rustling of the communication system faded away for a moment, replaced by some kind of gloomy and solemn muffled sound, the voices of a thousand—or ten thousand dead people, played in a deep voice in the arsenal.

Killiman tried to speak, but he couldn't, and the temperature plummeted, almost freezing blood. In the next second, as Angron opened his eyes, the surrounding scene finally became completely dark.

And Karil Lohals stood right in front of them.

With a bloody appearance, his eyes gleamed with gold.

"Don't fire, Robert." He said in a soft voice. "There are still war dogs fighting bloody battles on the Steadfast Resolve, and although they are hungry for death, do you really want to send them to death with your own hands?"

Carlil? What's going on? Kiriman wanted to ask him, but he couldn't speak, he couldn't speak.

"I" Bloody Carlil lowered his head and smiled. "I can't explain this to you, you know why, Robert."

Killiman frowned.

Are you communicating with psionic energy? Who hurt you like this?

"It doesn't matter, Robert. Angelon. ”

Carlil sighed.

"You're ready to board."

He said calmly, his face began to shift back and forth in the blur of white bones and flesh, the golden light still there, but it had weakened a lot.

Faintly, Killiman heard a succession of angry thunders, the scraping of some kind of feather, and a shrill laugh.

"I've cleared the way for you, but don't take anyone else with you, only the two of you can board that ship, and the strength I can use is not enough to support so many warriors I can help you, Robert"

He sighed and closed his eyes.

"Go and save, Angrun." Carlil said to them. "Go and save your legions, your flagships, your heirs"

The voice fell, the thunder faded away, and the arsenal returned to normal in the next second. Angron remained absolutely silent with Robert Killiman, while Marius Gage's words still echoed in their ears.

"Are we going to fire, Primordial? Lord Angeland? ”

After a long time, Angrã, a gladiator from Nukeria, spoke his first words in a new capacity.

"Nope." He said slowly. "Don't fire."

Kiriman looked at him and sincerely grieved for him. But at the same time, there was another cold anger rising in his heart.

"I'll help you." Robert Kiriman said solemnly. "We'll find the culprit, and then we'll throw him into hell."

And also

(End of chapter)