After clutching the burning pain, Karn decided to face death.

He'd done it many times in the past, but this time it was different, and this time, the death he faced was once his brother.

Gripping his chainsaw axe, he rushed down the dark corridor into the flaming artillery deck, his brother fighting with the enemies, turning the world into bloody mud.

Karn immediately joins in, but he will never let himself be stained with bloody mud, in fact, on the contrary, his aim is to get all of his brothers out of it.

He galloped into battle, his chainsaw axe slashing at the neck of an enemy from the side. He howled and fell to the ground, still trying to attack, but he wouldn't have that chance again. Karn stepped on his chest, picked up a blaster on the ground and aimed it at the enemy's chest, he pulled the trigger and fired three shots in quick succession, destroying his heart and other flesh.

In an instant, the filthy apparition vanished, and the dead man, who belonged to the war dog, fell to the ground, his eyes wide open, staring at the brother who had killed him with his own hands.

Karn remembered his face, and continued to charge.

The burning pain still sheltered his sanity so that Karn could continue to move forward despite anything. Five minutes later, he killed the last enemy with his axe, and the latter's body fell to the ground, flickering back to its former form.

Karn gasped, turned around, and shouted to his bruised brothers, "I'm Karn of the Eighth Company!" Come to me! ”

"Karn?"

A man stepped forward, and he was Barron Benson of the 1st Company. He nodded at Karn with a blank face, "The First Company has chosen me to be the company commander now, Karn, what are you doing here?" We worked hard to get you out, how did you get back? ”

"I don't know." Karn replied in a roaring voice. "But I'm going to the bridge, are you coming?"

"That's where we came back." Another said that he was from the Third Company, and Karn could make out the mark on his shoulder armor, but he couldn't make out who it was.

The mutilated face didn't match anyone Karn remembered. The flesh on his nose and most of his face was gone, his last remaining eye was swollen high, and the last bit of his helmet shone on his neck guard.

The man noticed his gaze, nodded, and introduced himself briefly: "Harronkosen." ”

"What's up with your face?" Karn now knew who he was.

"Sneak attacked." Harronkosen said vaguely.

He couldn't make it clear, his broken jaw was shaky, and the fact that he was alive was a miracle in itself. "But I killed the minch."

"Why go to the bridge?" Barron Benson, the company commander of the first company, asked.

He stared at Karn tightly, his left hand completely gone from elbow down, leaving only the wreckage of twisted armor. Fibrous cables, ceramic bones, and broken artificial muscles drooped from the charred wounds, as terrifying as some kind of terrible joke.

Karn pursed his lips.

"I can't say why." He whispered. "Because I don't know why, I don't know who he is, I don't know why I can come back, but I'm going to the bridge."

"You must give us a reason that is convincing enough, Karn." Barron Benson said.

The other war dogs came slowly, all wounded, and the most expressions on their faces were not serious, but a terrible blankness. There were corpses all around, but they were all war dogs. They killed the enemy, but it was the war dogs that fell, their own brothers.

"I have no reason to give!" Karn said exasperatedly. "I don't know what's going on, but I'm standing here, Company Commander Barron, I'm going to the bridge!"

"It's all their people." Harronkosen said thoughtfully in a voice that sounded uncomfortable. "That's where my company commander died. There were also three squads of the 5th Company. ”

"Why?" Barron Benson stepped forward aggressively. "You don't explain why you're coming back, and you don't tell us what you're going to do on the bridge, why should we trust you and go to the bridge with you?"

Karn was silent, not knowing how to explain the short nightmarish journey to his brothers, or how to describe the man he had met from the Eighth Legion, and what he would look like in the end.

The bone-white appearance.

Karn clenched his right fist slowly, and the burning pain returned, rolling in his heart as a force that sustained him through the gaze of the war dogs.

Karn of the Eighth Company of War Hounds raised his head and spoke in an extremely soft voice that did not belong to him.

"Because I'm going to fight." He said calmly. "The Emperor saw us fighting bloodily on the heights of Sephes, and after the battle he named us after the battle with the white hounds bred by the Yeshks, and we are the Emperor's hounds, so I will go back to fight. War hounds never give in and never retreat. ”

"How are you going to win?" Barron Benson stared at him intensely. "Tell me, Karn, how are you going to win?"

"We don't need to win." Kahn said. "We just need to resist."

"Against whom?"

"Something that tries to turn us into His slaves." Kahn said.

It was as if he had entered a door, and behind the door was an endless amount of courage and composure, and he gazed at each of his brothers, and saw the red collars around their necks.

"But he will not succeed, because we are war hounds, and our original is a gladiator, and he was a slave, but he has always resisted, and he has never given in. So we will also resist, and we will not give in. ”

"How do you know?" Barron Benson asked, he wasn't laughing, but he wanted to laugh because he thought Karn's words were absurd. But he didn't, he didn't laugh, because he wanted to believe Karn.

His eyes sparkled.

"Because I met him, he was very tall, a company commander."

Karn nodded at him, lying, telling a lie he really wanted to believe, calm and calm, his heart full of determination.

"Are you coming? Go to the bridge, we fight together. ”

He looked at his brothers and saw that the terrible dazedness had subsided.

Barron Benson finally laughed, a low grin.

"Okay." He said. "Come then, let's go, Karn, and lead us into rebellion."

The company commander roared angrily.

"War dogs! Run to death! ”

——

Eight minutes earlier, Robert Killeman and Angron had slammed the first half of the steadfast resolve with boarding torpedoes, defied the objections of the entire ship.

Marius Gage even threatens his original body when they enter the torpedo cabin, swearing that if Killiman doesn't let them join the gang, he will report it to Talasha Yuton.

Kiliman ignored it.

He was sorry for his legion, but he had to fight alongside his brother. It was a battle that would have left him with a troubled conscience for the rest of his life, and he knew very well that there was nothing wrong with Carlil Lohals's words.

If he says that there can only be two people in this jump, then there must only be two people.

Now, they walked between the corpses of war dogs and the dark corridors, silent. Killman was heavily armed, while Angelon was holding only a two-handed greatsword, breaking his position and jumping dangerously on the sword.

Walking in silence, Killiman felt that his brother was probably bleeding. Angron wasn't actually injured, but that's what Killeman thought.

He could see his brother's conversion.

From the moment Anglang saw the severed body of the first war dog, a hard, cold concentration appeared on his face, and the Butcher's Nail was still trying to influence Angelon, while his brother ignored it with some terrible determination.

They continued on, trampling through corridors covered in black dust, past the corpses of the war dogs, and there was no anger on Angrand's face, but he did stare at every face, every corpse that still had a head.

He would stop in between walks, turn over the bodies he couldn't see, and then gently lower them down.

A deep sadness welled up in Kiliman's heart, he did not expect that his brother would actually pick up the connection between him and his own heir at this time. The first meeting of an Primordial with his heir should have been a beautiful sight.

But what is it?

Robert Killiman gritted his teeth silently and silently, the hand of domination humming, and the dagger of Sincerity reflected light in his right hand.

The promenade is quiet, one might even say quiet a little overdone. They did not hear any fighting, and the whole ship was silent. As Killman and his brother walked through long corridors and saw the countless skull decorations along the way, Angron's expression began to grow calmer until he reached a tipping point.

Then, slowly, he spoke.

"Do you think it's a good idea to use my talent here, Robert?"

I'm not going to advise you." Kiliman said. "As much as I would like to, I won't."

Angron smiled, closed his eyes, and his body began to tremble violently. Kiriman stared at his brother without saying a word. He guarded him, and he stood at his side, alertly perceiving every corner of the darkness.

Blood began to ooze from Angrand's mouth, nose, eyes, and ears, and he let out that broken muffled grunt again, sending chills down the spine of those who heard it. It was a full minute before he opened his eyes.

"Follow me." He wiped the blood from his face, said this to his brother, and began to run. Robert Killiman didn't ask him why, but ran with him.

——

Somewhere, somewhere dark, beyond the reach of the flames. There was a flash of golden light.

Inside was a skeleton, his chest covered with burning embers, flesh and blood blurred, power and authority surging between the bones, and his empty eyes glowed with a chilling blue light.

He didn't go behind the veil, he drifted away according to the anchor left by a piece of authority.

+ Live, Carlil Lohals, the covenant between you and me has not yet burned out. +

The skeleton did not answer, he could not answer.

There is one more chapter.

(End of chapter)