A little faster. Motarian told himself to hurry up a little faster—and then he clenched his hands, and the scythe became an extension of his arm in that moment, and a thousandth of a second later, Motarian felt the real sensation of slicing through flesh.

Only a little, but it was completely enough for him. Immediately after, he smelled a smell that belonged only to a rotting corpse, and then some kind of scream, something that shouldn't have been born but was born anyway. Not of nature, but from

Nightmare.

Yes, from nightmares.

Mortarian withdrew his scythe, and the two sliced corpses fell limply to the ground, the rotting and rusty power armor merged into the flesh itself by the weight and gravity, and half of the diseased lung fell out, and the owner of the lung was not completely dead.

In fact, he was staring at Motarian, muttering something unintelligible.

"You will be born again, Father, you will be born again."

Motarian listened patiently to him, then lifted his foot and crushed his head.

The last traitor aboard the Endurance died.

It was a good thing, but he found that his hands were shaking. Staring at his hands, he slowly gathered his fingers and grasped the scythe. The force was strong enough to calm the tremors.

Don't shake. Motarian thought. I just did what I had to do, and it had to be done.

But his admonition failed, and he could not stop the trembling. Motarian then thought of a reason that could explain the incident - he had realized where the outcome of this war would go.

In any case, they will not win.

Horus Lupecar was a bloodthirsty wolf, and unlike Rieman Ruth, his savage fangs were hidden, and only revealed when he really needed to drink blood. And, once he bites something, he definitely doesn't let go.

Now is a great opportunity for him to bite something.

Come to think of it, most of the ships of the Combined Fleet were trapped in that supernatural giant vine, and unless Horus suddenly got hit on the head by something and turned into an idiot, he would have the fleet start aiming for a salvo.

It's like a roll call. Motarian thought with extreme indifference, nonchalantly. That bastard will kill all of us one by one like a roll call.

He lifted the scythe, turned around and asked his seventh company commander, Nathaniel Garro, "How is the repair of the sixth hangar being carried out?" ”

"They replied two minutes ago, and it's in the final stages." Garo said scrutinically. "But I think it's going to take a few more minutes for them, and it's not going to be an easy job."

"Indeed." Motarian said.

He lifted his hand and took the scythe in front of him to examine it carefully. Something slipped through his mind like flowing water, and he inevitably remembered the face of Horus Lupecar that appeared in the hologram.

The face was completely different from his impression of Horus Lupecar, but it was extremely similar. In terms of face alone, there is no difference, even those details are exactly the same as before.

Horus is still handsome like a carefully carved statue, and he does not look like he grew up naturally, but rather as if he was shaped into this shape by some material. Handsome, gentle, and convincing.

But the real difference wasn't in his face, but in his eyes, which made Motarian shudder.

Even now, just thinking about it, the Lord of Death felt like he was being tormented by a cold wind.

He narrowed his eyes and asked Garo another question, "How do you think Typhons is plotting against so many people?" ”

Obviously, Nathaniel Garo was a little upset by his question.

"I don't know, Primordial." The Seventh Company Commander, the 'Combat Company Commander', answered his question.

He's a Terra, not a Barbarusian, and many Barbaros Death Guards will refer to him as 'One Tendon', which is certainly not a good nickname, but it also reflects his one-sided personality to some extent.

If someone else had come, he would have considered the question a little before he spoke, but Garo would have answered immediately, and would have told Motarian bluntly that he didn't know.

Motarian smiled.

"I don't know, Garo." He told his company commander with a hint of not so easily perceptible frustration in his tone. "I always thought I was a good genetic agent, but now I realize that it doesn't seem to be like that."

"Primordial?" Garo called him dryly.

Motarian cast his gaze and saw a look of confusion on Garo's face. He was dressed in blood-stained armor, and under his feet lay the broken corpses of his former brothers.

Then he told Motarian sadly and firmly: "The answer doesn't matter. ”

The Lord of Death was silent for a long time before agreeing with him.

"Yes." Motarian nodded. "The answer doesn't matter."

He began to call the man in charge of the repair of the sixth hangar, and the leading technical sergeant was called Amutli, who was a very stubborn and reliable man.

He pulled his throat and unceremoniously told their original body in the channel: "It's done!" ”

"Really?" Motarian asked.

"Really! The transports and shuttles are also all ready to strike! ”

"How many?"

"Forty-six!" Again, Amutli answered the question of the original body with a snarling voice. "That's enough for all of us, we're pretty much dead anyway!"

"He doesn't understand what he's talking about, Original, Amutli is a little insane today." Nathaniel Garro quickly added a sentence before Motarian could speak.

The Lord of Death glanced at him calmly and shook his head, not reacting violently to the technical sergeant's words.

"We'll meet you in the hangar at once, sergeant." He said very calmly. "But I want you to check all the planes again before we come."

"Okay." The sergeant spoke briefly, and immediately asked a question. His tone made Garo think a little, and the Seventh Company Commander could even imagine his ugly face staring at that gray eyeball.

"Where are we going, Primordial?"

"Can you see the porthole?" Motarian asked him.

"Of course."

"You can see the vines too, right?"

"Yes."

"We've got a lot of ships stuck in them, and the Endurance isn't a battle-ready ship anymore." Motarian said, glancing down at the ground.

On the dark black metal deck, a fungus blanket is swaying gently. This is just a façade, in fact, the Perseverance is collapsing, transforming. The transformation from what they were familiar with to another was something that no one said explicitly, but everyone could vaguely perceive it.

"So we're going to find a ship that moves quickly and has a lot of firepower, and use it to help the ships that are trapped and get them out. But before we can do that, we'll have to find a way to identify the ships that are still loyal to the Empire, and those that have been thoroughly mastered by the traitors. ”

"Understood, Primordial." Amutley said that his voice had returned to his low, normal tone. "We'll wait in the hangar."

Motarian hung up the communication, turned to Garo and said, "We are all a little insane today. ”

Nathaniel Garo was stunned for a moment before he remembered that it was the original body answering what he had just said. He wanted to say something, but Motarian had already turned away.

Two death guards passed him and bumped into him, one of whom reminded him in a half-joking tone: "It's time to go, tendon, be careful of falling behind." ”

"Shut up." Garo said impatiently, hurrying to follow.

He had already begun to agree with Motarian in his heart.

——

"Horus again?" Vulcan asked.

"It's Horus again." Atellus Numeong said.

The captain of the salamander's company didn't seem to like the news very much, and he kept a straight face as he spoke. Vulcan pondered, reaching out and grasping the warhammer he had set aside, the head of thunder.

This subtle movement made a heavy murderous aura swell up on the face of the company commander, and then he asked, "Refuse?" ”

"No, not yet." Hearing this, the Lord of the Fire Dragon shook his head, his eyes full of concentration, as obvious as an overflowing spring. "I have to figure out what he's thinking, Atellus."

"It's dangerous to talk to him." The commander of the first company said euphemistically.

"I know." Vulcan said. "But."

He lifted the head of thunder, turned it around, and set it aside, his brows furrowed.

"Looks like you've made up your mind." The company commander sighed.

"I rarely really make up my mind about something." Vulcan replied solemnly.

So Atellus Numeon said no more. He nodded at his original form, and walked out of the command room once more.

Vulcan stood still, rubbing his weapon, and waited for the Horus. This incident reminded him of Ulanno for no reason, it was strange, but. It's also very natural, as if an instinctive reaction.

It was raining that day, and there was a deep pit in the ground, and the promethium flames burned the corpses of the orcs, and they did not die in the rain for a long time. Arrays of troops filled the land, and people looked up to the emperor and the primordial body, ready to hear the words of the Lord of Mankind. The future of mankind is clearly visible and is a broad road.

It was a beautiful day, in every sense of the word.

So, since when did things turn out like this?

"Brother." Horus's voice rustled from among the contemplatives in front of him. "Did you see that?"

Without asking, Vulcan knew what he was referring to.

"Don't call me that, I see it." Vulcan said. "So what? What are you calling for? ”

"I just wanted to tell you that you can't win." Horus said with a slightly pleasant smile. "I will be the ultimate winner of this war, do you understand?"

"It is still unknown who killed the deer." Vulcan replied. His brow furrowed, but he struggled to exercise restraint.

He actually had no hope of victory, and any sane general could easily judge the direction of this war. He was enraged by the attitude that Horus had shown.

He didn't understand why you could face the death of your brother's son so easily and so naturally?

You're murdering them and you're actually looking happy?

Yes, in a trance, Vulcan inevitably mistook this thing for Horus once again. He always had to remind himself all the time to realize it, it was painful and necessary.

"You can't win." Horus changed his tone abruptly, stopped chuckling, and became very serious.

"This war is only a microcosm of the future, and I have many ways to break up the resistance I may encounter, but you have no solution. If one of the two sides of the war has weapons that the other cannot deal with, then who will win this war, Vulcan? ”

"Father will put an end to your ambitions."

"You're wrong, I'm going to end him." Horus said. "I will completely shred his lies and show his face under the mask to everyone."

"But I'm not going to kill him, because he's a father after all. Even if he's a liar, I'll make sure he's alive. You too, I won't let any of you die, the empire and humanity need us. ”

"This war you've started won't make things go the way you say they are." Vulcan clenched his hammer and said in a deep voice. "Do you understand? And I don't like your tone, you act like you're really Horus, but you're not, you're just a monster. ”

"A real monster is better than a hypocritical liar, and perhaps I will bleed the galaxy, but that would be better than letting humanity be blinded to his lies," Horus said suddenly in a hateful tone. "It's you who don't understand, Vulcan"

"You-"

"There's no need for us to continue talking about it." Horus interrupted him. "You can't convince me, and I can't convince you, we're all one of the few diehards in the galaxy, all of us, so let me tell you what I'll do."

Vulcan silently began to prepare to listen.

For some reason, a sight appeared before his eyes. Whether it's his own imagination or some kind of blood connection between brothers. In short, he really saw something, and these things made Vulcan's body chill.

He saw the thing in Horus's skin stand in the darkness and whisper to a tall corpse, the darkness was not the darkness that humans were familiar with, it did not come from the night, but from the terror.

"Playtime is over." Horus said. "First, I'll give the order to fire."

Dozens of warnings jumped out of Vulcan's contemplative array in an instant, bright red, and took over his vision with a rapid speed. Deadly artillery fire grazed his fleet, straight behind them.

"You bastard!" Despite his preparations, the Lord of the Fire Dragon cursed angrily.

Horus ignored him and began to speak, calm to the point of being otherworldly, utterly detached from flesh and blood and mundane things, and with power in his voice, a force that could not be disobeyed, denied and doubted.

Where does that power come from? Vulcan held his hammer tightly.

"I will reduce your living forces, and I will send destroyers to harass your ships that are too busy to take care of themselves. I'll let the cruisers follow and bite your flesh like hounds. Then I'll have the main ship open fire, shoot you, and turn you all into space junk. ”

"My tactical intentions are very simple and straightforward, and you can't resist, especially you, Vulcan. Your fleet can't do anything but watch me create a massacre. Because you've always been like that, you can't do anything, you seem to be powerful, but you like silence. ”

Horus coldly stopped his voice and took a soft breath on the other end of the channel.

Try to struggle, brother, while you can."

He hung up the communication.

Also, yards.

(End of chapter)