Angron exhaled slowly, a breath of blood-soaked air, rust in his mouth.

Corax stood beside him, gasping for breath, his backpack shattered and sparking, with four deep scars on his left shoulder and entire front breastplate.

Horus's massive lightning claw left him with these things, but they were only visible wounds, and some were invisible dark wounds.

Compared to him, Angrand is in much better shape - but this is definitely not a good thing, which only proves that Horus Lupecar is consciously differentiating.

He deliberately did not take a heavy hand on Angrand, because he was not armoured, but he was much harsh with Corax, almost to the point of being unreasonable.

If Angron attacks him, he can either dodge or block. But if it was Colax, he would fight back straight and never stay.

It's really absurd, how can there be any reason to treat enemies differently in this world?

Horus must have been plotting something, and Angeland was aware of it, but he was powerless to stop it.

His only option was one.

The gladiator roared and rushed forward once more, his pale brother close behind.

Angron handed out his sword, and he followed with his claws. The offensive is continuous and extremely ferocious, and every blow is a killer move. They had never worked together at all in the past, but now they fought as if they had been comrades who had fought side by side for decades.

If Angrand became available, Corax immediately destroyed Horus's armor with double ferocity. If Corax was caught in a stalemate, Angron quickly reversed his stance and attacked Horus with an indomitable stance.

This kind of attack, even if it was themselves, or other primitives, could not survive such an attack for long. Not to mention that like Horus at this moment, the threat can be resolved between a few dodges and blocks, and it is easy to relax.

He even had the strength to speak to them, with sincerity and sincerity, as if he were not in a treacherous battle, but in the evening at the conversation after the dinner with his brothers

"This will not be the end for you, there is a greater cause waiting for you and me to devote ourselves to, join me, Angelon, Corax. You are qualified to know the truth, and there is no one in the galaxy more qualified than you. Moreover, you are my brothers, and I will not watch you become accomplices of lies and liars. ”

"Cliché." Angron scoffed. The blue eyes on his rough, blood-stained face were full of coldness, without the slightest hint of friendliness. Only cold, only killing intent.

"What do you have left, Horus? You keep talking about truth and lies as if you know how well you know them. ”

"I have seen the truth with my own eyes." Horus smiled reservedly and thrust his left hand out, forcing Angron to dodge.

Corax's gloomy figure burst out of the corner of his view, and the lightning claws went straight for Horus's jaw. As always, the attack did not work, and the Lord of the Crows immediately retreated, carefully keeping his distance. He has learned his lesson.

"Well, what you've seen is a lie." Angron said as he adjusted his pace. "If you have seen the truth, you cannot be willing to be on their side. You don't understand what they are, Horus. ”

Horus shook his head at him with a bit of seriousness.

"Brother, there is no one in this world who understands better than me, maybe he will, but he is not human, he is just a long-lived liar, trying to irrigate his own path to heaven with our lives and blood."

"Crazy people talk crazy." Angron sneered.

Again, he charged. He never knew what it was to give up, there was nothing to bring the King of the Red Sands of Nukeria to his knees, he was a born fighter, and acquired cruelty only contributed to his nature.

Horus frowned slightly, finally acting a little unhappy. He raised his claws, and the blade collided with the decomposition force field on the claw blade, and in an instant he was forced into a wrestling session.

There is no doubt that this is not a good thing, and Coraks is watching from the sidelines. Horus sighed regretfully, and his right hand was placed on his left arm, and the force increased violently, even large enough for Angron to resist.

The balance that had been maintained before was instantly shattered, and Angrand's pupils shrank sharply, and he immediately retreated, but he still couldn't avoid his right shoulder being slashed by one of the five sharp claws. Blood splattered out, and the blade fell to the ground.

Koraks roared, and the attack that had been prepared turned into a blockade at this moment. Horus took a step back just right, sending Corax into the air.

The Lord of the Ravens glared at him angrily, and Horus smiled back, quickly turning the smile into sadness. His gaze went beyond Corax and into the back.

Blood slowly trickled to the ground.

Angron stood up in silence and glanced down at his right hand, his fingers twitching, blood gushing from the junction of his shoulder and arm, the muscles of his hand no longer obeying.

He had just dodged quickly, but not fast enough. His disadvantage is too great, if he is armored, this attack is nothing at all, but now.

No, it doesn't make sense to think about that anymore.

Fight, there's only one way left.

"I'm sorry, brother." Horus spoke sincerely, and the timing was just right. "Let's stop, shall we? I'll ask you, I'll call the pharmacist. ”

"Nope." Angron looked up and said, he refused without hesitation, as if he had thought about it a thousand times in the morning.

"What?" Horus asked back, slightly stunned.

"Go on." Angelon said. "Put away your skewful mask, Horus. We're going to kill you. ”

"But you don't even have a weapon." Horus said with a frown, and took a step forward, stepping on the hilts of the two power swords, accentuating his tone. His gesture was insulting, and he himself did not notice it.

When Corax saw this, his eyes behind his helmet became even more sad—he had understood something.

"Give up, brother, and count me in begging you. And Fugen, who also needs treatment. Horus said, with a strong gesture and a soft tone.

Angron kept silent, just looked down at his right hand. After less than half a second of silence, he stretched out his left hand, grabbed the wrist of his right hand, and began to exert force.

Blood splattered, and the gladiator's face contorted in intense pain, his muscles bulging, and his teeth clenched together made a cracking sound.

With the terrifying sound of flesh breaking and bones breaking, he took his right hand and stood still, gasping for breath. The blood from the wound strangely stopped gushing, and on the ground, the other corner of the eight-pointed star began to brighten, and the speed was almost crazy.

The gladiator took a deep breath and stood in place, another color slowly emerging in his blue eyes.

At the same time, the flesh of that hand began to melt, turning into boiling blood. Everyone present felt a sense of heavy and overwhelming oppression, and a deity was pouring his power into it without any bounds, not for the purpose of possession, but for blessing.

Blood gushed and clinged to the bones of Angrand's right hand, causing it to deform little by little, and a giant axe with a bone handle and a flesh blade was born. Extremely hideous, extremely ominous, its thirst does not even need to be seen with its eyes, but heard with its ears.

Its birth caused a disturbing whisper to resound in the dark royal court, and the upside-down corpses stared at the scene with their hollow eyeballs gouged out, their jaws suddenly closing in unison, as if in celebration.

Horus looked at him with extreme seriousness, his voice almost murmuring, "Brother."

Coraks was speechless, unable to respond to what had just happened.

"I just want a weapon." The gladiator responded coldly. "Now I have."

"So, come to war, Horus. Throw aside your so-called lies and truths.

"You will die today, and I will pay tribute to the dead in the soul of vengeance with your blood."

His voice was still loud, as if he had never been hurt. The background of blood kept surging in the depths of his eyes, but it only made his expression colder and colder, and his breathing became more and more steady, and nothing else could be done.

He never gives in.

Horus's seriousness gradually turned into a kind of respect, and he sighed, his eyes brushing over the phoenix lying on the ground without a trace. After a moment, he nodded.

"Then let's fight." The wolf god said.

On the ground, there was a certain light that began to brighten and blind. By the time it had faded, Horus Lupecar had changed his armor.

The scarlet pupils remained the same, but the markings of the Aquila and the Legion had been replaced with a chaotic eight-pointed star, the color changing from white to black, outlined in gold, and a flaming flame was born. His skin also turned an evil white, and his pupils glowed with darkness.

The Worldbreaker had appeared in his hands at some point, and he held it up solemnly, assuming a battle posture towards Angrand.

The gladiator didn't look at him, but nodded slightly at Corax. The Lord of the Ravens exhaled a cloudy breath and looked at Forgrim sadly.

——

Horus Eichmander had lost count of the first elevator shafts he had climbed, and there was a sharp pain between his ribs, the wound left by an explosion. It was a lot more difficult than he thought to get to his destination, but it wasn't a problem

It's not a problem, it's not going to be a problem, he's going to fix it, he's going to get to the primordial.

He must do his duty, and if everyone else turns their backs on theirs, then it is up to him. He swore an oath that no one could break.

In the darkness, he walked alone.

Updated.

(End of chapter)