No words can describe this scuffle – at least not Gabriel Santo.

He spun his waist, moved his arms, and swung his hammer, smashing the heads of several walking corpses. It wasn't the first time he'd fought something like this, but it was the first time he felt tricky. Their skulls were so hard that even the power of the Thunderhammer could not destroy them with a single blow.

But he didn't have time to think, he quickly turned around and stood with a white-scarred psyker. They had their own names, the Storm Prophets, but Gabriel was willing to put them down to psionic beings in a nutshell.

There are so many kinds of psionic powers, and they are manifested in different ways, but in the final analysis, aren't they all psionic abilities? Just as in the killing at this moment, he used a hammer, and the man used lightning, and they all ended up in the same way.

The Storm Prophet's eyes lit up with a blue light, and he roared, and in an instant his hands were as bright as daylight, and a terrible chain of lightning burst out from between his fingers, at first it was just electricity, but soon it formed a real storm.

Where lightning struck, countless walking corpses turned into corpses, but many more swarmed from the darkness.

"Stand up!" Gabriel pulled up the Storm Prophet, who had fallen to his knees because of his loss of strength. "Stand up, it's time too!"

The Storm Prophet looked up at him with a heavy look, blood pouring from his nose.

The white-scarred psionics have a reputation for peace within the Empire, and while not many have dealt with the mystics of this group of mystics, there is a consensus that they are different from ordinary psykers or think tanks.

Chiko had commented that they were self-tied, and it was only at this moment that Gabriel realized the regret hidden behind this sentence.

"I suggest you turn back." The Storm Prophet said that the blue light in his eyes was not extinguished.

The commander of the Iron Hand threw him down with a calm face, and without hesitation, he turned around and hammered - bang!

In the midst of the strong wind, a sleazy beast bit the hammer and raised six spikes in its abdomen at him in a hideous manner.

Its power is truly powerful, and the quality of its flesh and blood is by no means comparable to that of ordinary demons. Even the Thunderhammer was in a stalemate with it for a while, but Gabriel didn't panic, just calmly let go of his hand, and took out the plasma from his waist with his backhand to shoot it.

He is no longer surprised by this change, he is not a person who will fail a second time.

"It's time too!" He let out a low roar, and the plasma punched a hole in the thing's skull.

The Storm Prophet rushed after him, no more psionic powers, he had used too much, otherwise why would he be so weak? He swung his scimitar and slashed the demon's head with a series of truly stormy slashes.

The Thunder Hammer fell straight down, and was firmly grasped by Yasu's left hand. He turned, and with the help of the reaction force, he quickly threw the Thunderhammer into the sky. Gabriel spontaneously spontaneously spun his steps and began to spin back to back with him, firing the plasma in his hand thirteen times in a row without overheating.

He raised his right hand prophetically, caught his weapon, and smashed it down with one hand.

"Boom ——!"

With the sound of a bomb exploding, the huge kinetic energy accumulated raged wildly in the darkness, and the brilliant light burst even made Ferus Manus on the other side of the battlefield look sideways.

Of course, he didn't expect that his company commander would cooperate so tacitly with the White Scars' think tank, but now is not the time to pay attention to this. The thing—what the basilisk called its master—was mentioned for thirty minutes, and he was mentioned.

Ferus had a guess in his mind, but they would have to survive the thirty minutes before he could actually arrive.

Countdown: 25:05

"What are your plans, brother?" Ferrus asked.

"Nope." Chagatai said. "At least not yet."

Khan's eyes narrowed slightly, and the White Tiger Broadsword swirled and slashed, creating a hellish sight, and I don't know how many demons had died under his sword in the past few minutes.

Absolute precision, absolute swiftness, like a proud eagle constantly raining down from the sky to attack its prey, its sharp claws can take its life with a single grasp.

He was fast enough, at least dazzlingly fast, but he wasn't fast enough to kill the obscene things that were constantly rushing out of the thick pink mist.

Of course, the Khan didn't understand what was happening, and he hadn't heard the dark shadow's words—but Ferus knew, and Iron Hand understood, that thing was desperately trying to tilt the battle in the direction he wanted.

He couldn't help but look to the other side, just in time to see a flaming flame drifting down on the shoulder of a strong arm.

The pink fingers whitted slightly at the tip, and a curved blade slashed straight down at the head of the Chemos, without mercy.

Vogrim defended with a horizontal sword, the tip of the sword swayed slightly, the blade was crooked, and the backhand was a ferocious thrust. However, at the same moment, three other sharp blades stabbed at him, forcibly blocking the Sword of Fury.

The wrestling ensued naturally, and one pair of agate-like moist eyes began to stare at the other, dry, cracked, burning eyes.

"I can't believe it." The beautiful snake demon suddenly spoke, the smell was like an orchid, and the voice was like a seductive song. "How Can I Be So Righteous"

"It's not justice." Vogrim seemed to be patiently correcting him.

"Really? What is that? ”

The phoenix didn't answer, just spun his wrist and took a step.

Attack and defense occur at the same time in an instant, and the blade rotates, actively leaving the wrestling, and the flames rise, devouring the three blades, forcing them out of the duel. He exerted his strength again, the tip of the sword piercing through his body, and the sword of fury pierced the basilisk's chest with all the rage.

"Ahh "I didn't feel happy that I was killed by myself, my lord, what are you thinking?"

The phoenix didn't pay attention to its blasphemy, just spun its wrist again - the basic principle of swinging a sword, swinging an arm, rotating a wrist, moving with a foot. Every step is so important, every part is indispensable.

With the simplest sword draw, the phoenix cut off the head of the snake demon.

And it's still not dead.

The flesh and blood healed quietly, and it turned around, its lips covered in its own blood slightly curved, revealing a slightly jealous smile.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" It asked suddenly. "Look at me like this, why don't you cherish yourself? Stop fighting me anymore and go out to save your empire or your brother. ”

"Fallen bastards are not worthy to teach me how to do things." Phoenix replied calmly. "The way you look is disgusting."

"No, I'm serious."

It said, its expression turned out to be serious. The four hands let go, allowing the blades to fall to the ground.

Ruth was trying to die, and when Chagatai was besieged by Horus's fleet, it was he who quietly boarded the ship from the rear and gave Horus new pleasures. Otherwise, why do you think he let Chagatai go? He's not the glorious man you and I know anymore, just like me."

It raised its hand, began to cry again, and covered its face again.

"Let me die, let me die." It wails at the darkness. "My lord, why are you so cruel! Deprive me of pleasure, deprive me of my depravity, deprive me of everything, leave me only the purest love, and force me to envy and mourn in the tide of sorrow! ”

Phoenix's cheeks twitched.

He couldn't take it anymore—he couldn't take it anymore, and the sight he had seen in the ocean on the Vengeful Spirit was now before his eyes in an even more horrible way: a depraved version of himself.

Although it was expected, it even appeared in dreams several times, turning peaceful meditative dreams into nightmares. However, when he was actually confronted with such a thing, he still felt furious.

"Perhaps, you're just scared."

The four hands quietly opened, and between the fingers, the agate-like eyes looked at him quietly.

"But you don't have to, you can't be like me anymore." It said quietly. "I am the product of a mistake, a monster that has been defeated again and again by desire. You're not, you've got over yourself, Vogrim. ”

The phoenix slashes the flames.

The head was tilted, and a terrible wound appeared on the snake demon's tall, half-kneeling body. It remained quietly, waiting for death to come—and then, once again, its wounds healed.

"You can't kill me." It smiled wryly. "You can't kill me, my master is staring here. I am afraid that there are only two ways for me to die, one is to wait for Him to come, and the other is to satisfy Him. ”

"I'll choose the third option." Fogham replied.

Again—he knew he couldn't do it.

He's done it many times.

Phoenix had done this back on the Vengeful Spirit, and what did his actions bring?

Angrand cut off one of his arms, and his father, brothers and sisters all perished. Corus Corax pleaded earnestly, empathizing with the pain he was suffering. and the disappearance of the last remnants of Horus Lupecar's soul.

The same is true on the way back to Terra, where he asks again and again to participate in the battle while he is still seriously injured, but again and again because of his slow movements, he watches his heirs die in front of him in order not to be injured.

If you have the strength or the will, it is a kind of courage to do it knowing that you can't do it. If not, it's stupid, it's imbecile, it's unforgivable incompetent waste.

It was Fogram of Chermoth.

But not anymore, he had the power - even if it cost him the rest of his life and his soul to get it, he was willing, he could no longer bear the pain of watching everything happen and not being able to do anything about it.

He knew he was crazy, and he knew the obvious logical confusion in these thoughts, and he had refuted himself hundreds of times. He tried to convince himself that you had done nothing wrong and that you deserved to be forgiven.

However, no.

He can't forgive himself, or he'll be a thing that is even lower than waste. Otherwise, he would never dare to face the departed soul again, and he would never dare to walk with his head held high.

Crazy is crazy.

The phoenix smirked, his hands suddenly let go, and the greatsword dissipated. He rushed away, grabbing the basilisk by the throat, his eyes lit up, and black fury erupted, almost forming a surging shadow behind him.

Once again, the dead stretched out their arms and willingly handed Vogram pieces of bone to the top of his head. And this time, no matter how Larch roared, they didn't stop.

Because this time, it was the agent of revenge who took the initiative to ask for it.

Desperately, Larkhe understood that it could not be stopped—in fact, it had even begun to passively contribute to the ritual.

The power answers all calls, it cannot disobey the power, it is born of it and the will of someone, both of whom are Lord.

And that means that it will be discredited.

"I'm going to kill you."

Fogrem didn't know anything about it, or rather, he heard Larch's screams, but he didn't want to pay attention. He just leaned close to the snake demon and whispered.

"I'll kill you here."

"What?"

The basilisk gasped and spat out its long pink tongue, its eyes already rolling. It couldn't get the second half of the sentence out of it, and the remaining two words were pinched back by Vogrim with both hands.

Flames clung to his hands and began to scorch the basilisk's body. However, this is only an outward manifestation. The real act of killing is actually the savage hands.

Suffocating to death, almost a punishment, comes from the ancient past of mankind. Countless Avengers have used this method to kill their enemies, and now, it is Vogrim's turn.

- If the hand that belonged to Ferus Manus was not reached.

Countdown: 18:25

"Stop, Fogen." Ferus Manus said solemnly, carrying the furnace breaker. "Don't do it."

"I have to."

"Listen to him put his hands down, Vogrim!" Chagatai roared not far away, the broadsword in his hand still flying up and down. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but you'd better not be impulsive!"

"What do you know, Chagatai?" Phoenix asked with a miserable laugh. "Have you experienced what I went through?"

"Of course I don't know what you've been through—" Khan laughed angrily. "—but I know you're a wayward bastard! You're always in your own nature, and every time you do that, you're going to cause something bad! ”

"You're right, but not this time, Chagatai, trust me." Phoenix insisted, her voice almost murmuring. "Trust me"

His hands were still in force, the crown was about to heal, and Larch cried out helplessly for help—it was a demon, but it knew the weight of an oath by nature.

Seeing that it was about to be crushed by this terrible weight, Ferus Manus reached out to help. He couldn't hear Larch's cries for help, but he could clearly and simply judge the current situation, after all, in the days after returning to Terra, Vogrim had not hidden anything.

Therefore, Iron Hand's solution to this matter was actually very simple, he just took a step back, raised the furnace breaker, and smashed the hammer on the head of the snake demon.

Flesh splattered.

"No!" Fogham roared. "No!"

Iron Hand glanced at him, but didn't speak, just kicked away the healing corpse and pulled Fogham off the ground with his backhand. Then a punch was struck, then he was pulled up again, followed by another punch.

Phoenix looked at him in amazement and hurt.

"The first punch is for you to turn your back on this perfect path we have chosen together." Ferus spoke calmly. "The second punch was because I couldn't see it, you idiot."

"But I-"

"-Shut up!" Ferus scolded. "Summon your damn sword, and survive the remaining seventeen minutes!"

"But, but."

Fogham's lips trembled in confusion, but he instinctively summoned the greatsword. It had substance, and the heavy weight suddenly entered his hand, forcing him to come back to his senses at the first moment.

"Don't,." Ferus scolded again, but stood behind him. "Don't let my armor down."

A sigh came from not far away, and the snake demon slowly stood up and looked at them jealously.

The surroundings are chaotic, but here is a deliberate blank space. The demons summoned by the power of the Prince of Pleasure kept to the wishes of their masters, and did not interrupt this whim, but there was a well-prepared drama.

A rotting giant would have wanted to go over and join the fray, but its newly recovered body from the rancid miasma did not support it in the baptism of bombs of the White Scars.

It could only stay where it was in a fit of rage, clumsily wielding its scythe and propelling the walking corpses forward, acting as its own shield, completely forgetting that it could easily destroy White Scar's defenses with the power of the plague.

In the wave of chaos, there are fat and rotten people who sigh helplessly.

"Stubborn." He commented. But he doesn't do anything else, and he is surprisingly easy-going.

To this, Prince Joy smiled happily - yes, yes, do not disturb my interest.

What war, what Terra? But it's just part of the drama. He has ascended to God, and victory is within reach, so I naturally want to enjoy it

His shell's heart began to beat, a throbbing that hadn't been produced in a long time, forcing it to beat rapidly. He understands what it's like—fear.

He is not afraid, of course, but this body of Him. Watching in person was a casual move, but now it's a whole new kind of enjoyment

In just ten minutes, the pleasure he had gained from this mortal shell was more exciting than the tedious pleasures of the past millennia.

Come on! He laughed and cried out to the darkness. Come and kill my body, come and cut open my chest, rip out my heart, devour my flesh, eat me little by little, and make me your food!

Bliss. He thought so, and shuddered a puddle of sinuous blood.

At the far end of the darkness, the god had been stripped of human skin, leaving only the skeleton of the god on foot.

He was not in a hurry, for he could hardly feel any emotion, except pure calm. Fear cheered in his hands, celebrating his return, and He ignored it. He is the god of hatred and vengeance, and the throne is a testament to it, and fear is not contained in it

Why, then, can He use it?

The answer might be to ask about the Winter Armor called Blade, about a Gutera who is burning his power.

This chapter is 5k, owes 1k, and will be paid back tomorrow. I have to get up at noon to go to the banquet, I can't write ()

Ah, by the way, please take a quick look at the set of settings created by the big guy for this book, from the specific setting of the Night Blade to the various worldview introductions currently being written, the former is in the book review area, and the latter is in the set of settings on the book's details page.

Thank you for your support!

(End of chapter)