Leon Elzhuangsen glanced down at the spear in his hand between battles. It was trembling, shimmering, and the foehn wind of death had scorched its blades, but it was still spotless.

It's hard to imagine that, just now, it was used by lions to pierce enemy shields, armor, and flesh along with flesh. He looked up, the misty battlefield was still bloody, but they had advanced at least

No, it is impossible to measure the distance, not even the time.

Doesn't matter.

He swung his sword, and the spear was handed out at the same moment. The lion's blonde hair was already stained with blood, he was far more focused on killing than before, and he used a spear more than a sword—a deliberate consolation, and Riemann Ruth would have been happy to see it.

He slew the two Wai Sayers with a slash and a stab, and the rest of them looked at him in bewilderment, neither running away nor struggling.

Their choice is to talk.

"Son of God?" One of them muttered questions. "The Gods Say You Are Dead"

The lion's answer was another merciless slash, the blade shattering the scarlet armor and slicing flesh and bone in two. The blood flashed, and the head flew high.

Die? The lion tugged at his lips indifferently, an expression that certainly shouldn't be called a smile. It was just an instinctive reaction from a mocking mood, but in the next second, it was distorted into a terrifying killing intent.

Death strikes again, and the beasts of Caliban unleash his wildness. The greatsword was smashed, the spear was used as an axe, and he slaughtered the group of Whisperers in the most brutal way possible.

As he expected, they were still just so-called recruits who had been drafted, not the elite of the true Whisperers. The lion didn't care about this, but raised his spear and plunged its handle deep into the ground.

Crimson meteors streaked across the burning sky, and the First Legion was announcing their coming in the most flamboyant way, countless darkness cleared and countless troops re-recruited. The formation was rebuilt, the soldiers and commanders once again walked side by side, and the tattered tanks and armored vehicles turned into a torrent of steel, and continued to gallop forward.

The dark angels bring hope, they are late, but they still bring hope.

The lion bowed his head in contemplation.

The blade of the spear was close at hand, and his face shone with a gentle light, no longer sharp. For some reason, Leon AlJohnson suddenly felt a longing in his heart.

He wanted to hear a rush of running behind him, followed by the nasty shouts of Riemann Russ, and energetic frolicking.

You think I'm dead, brother, don't you?! Ha! I've fooled you! Give me the spear now, I'm going into battle!

He didn't hear it, and he kept going.

Don't forget our innate duty. A voice said in his heart. Our duty is to kill, our duty is to win. Victory or death, nothing more.

I know. The lion replied.

He and his angels, his wolves, continue to walk side by side. Everything is covered with blood and sludge, but they are still fighting.

For Terra, for the Empire, and for humanity.

The demons are endless, and traitors emerge from the flanks to launch a sneak attack in the thick fog. They brought with them some heavy fire that shouldn't have been in their hands, and even a couple of pre-arranged death minefields.

Tanks and armored vehicles rumbled, and artillery roared. Kill four or five enemies for every meter you advance, sometimes some savage-like cultists, and you don't know where they came from. Sometimes it's a clumsy Waiver recruit, but most of the time it's a demon.

They obscure the sky and are so numerous that it makes people's eyes tingle. The effects of the forces of chaos have rendered communication instruments useless and the chain of command in tatters, allowing no commander to enforce his orders to the entire army at such a moment, not even a lion.

What's more, he didn't have the will, he just wanted to continue to march towards the Star Torch. And then—the sons of Horus came, and there was another kind of Bearer, one more demonic than Astarte.

The elite Gastarin Terminators and these mongrels sneaked up on the advancing artillery squad from the right rear flank, and they were extremely fast, and immediately retreated into the fog after the raid.

Then there was another artillery position, which was also attacked and no one reported to him, but the lion still sensed what was behind these two similar attacks with his acumen.

He chuckled, for this kind of premeditated attack was beyond the reach of the Wildlings and Whisperer recruits.

This means that there are other people who have fallen off, and there are people who know what they are doing, but still choose to help and abet

So another instinct of the male lion began to be awakened. The emerald green eyes of the Calibans lit up in an instant.

He only took one step, and the wet soil of the forest replaced thick ashes and brutal mud. He took a few more steps, and the ground shifted again, from dirt to ashes.

He just appeared quietly behind the enemy group. Unbeknownst to this, the Whisperers and the Children of Horus were still busy reaping the lives of their artillery squads, their pungent breath making the lion's hairs stand on end.

For a moment, he refused to believe that it was a human, not a demon, that appeared before his eyes.

So, that's what you do to yourself? The lion raised his sword and spear in disgust. disregard justice, be willing to be a lackey, and harm the loyal and good.

Stoop.

Anger burned in his heart, and he silently began to charge, facing the tide alone.

There are still a lot of members of the artillery squad alive, but they can't help him, they have been loyal enough for long, and even their hearing has long been destroyed by the sound of artillery, how can they fight against such a combined demon army again?

But Leon El Johnson will not sit idly by and watch them be slaughtered. He let out a roar, attracting a number of traitors who were buried in killing. As soon as they saw him, they let out more roars, and the enemy swarmed in, just as the lion intended.

He swung his sword to decapitate a son of Horus, but the Terminator's heavy design and helmet didn't help him, at least not this time. Lionsword killed him lightly, slashing at the other.

The man tried to resist with his assault shield, and a spear stabbed him through him from another angle. He only had time to kill two people, as the composite blasters, automatic cannons, multi-barrel hot melts, or heavy flamethrowers began to fire in unison the next moment.

He began to dodge, parry, his instinct stirring his body, turning the lion into a bolt of lightning. An incredible bolt of lightning.

The bomb failed to hit him, the autocannon was flapped away by him with his greatsword, and the hot melt was shredded by the spear in his hand. The promethium flame was the only weapon that could freeze his footsteps slightly, but it only froze for less than half a second.

The traitors were still firing, but the Caliban, draped in flames, were already galloping out of the hellish heat. The hot wind burned the air, and he rushed into the center of the Terminators, finally revealing his minions.

Slash horizontally, slash vertically, smash down. Forehand slashes, backhand slashes, spear stabs, spinning, swinging, flying up and down, his figure floated in the bloody battle, like a blood-stained shadow, blonde hair fluttering, emerald green eyes but not stained with dust.

It was only when he killed the twenty-second traitor in Terminator armor that they finally realized who they were up against. Then the Bearers came, armor and flesh fused together, the mark of chaos everywhere on them.

They surrounded him, and the man at the head opened his mouth pompously and proudly, trying to say his name, and the lion strode up and struck him with a sword before he could speak.

He didn't realize how terrible it was, he was two hundred meters away from the man, but it took him only one step to cross it.

The skull flew up, spun, and before it hit the ground, the scarlet armor twisted in the screaming and writhing shadows, and a pair of fleshy wings emerged from behind the ridge and vibrated rapidly.

Leon realizes that his enemy is still alive and needs to escape. He didn't think, he just reached out and pulled it down, and used his sword to completely cut it in half.

It all happened in a third of a second.

There is no room for thinking, fighting, only the battle itself. Primitive and pure, the feral nature of the lion is taking him to see the true meaning of this truth.

He has the skill of a knight and the heart of a man, but he is still a lion in the forest. When the territory is threatened, and the tribe is harmed by outsiders, the lion will do something like this - not to kill, but to take revenge.

Blood splattered, and the lion pounced on the other speaker. Time was slowed down, slowed down, slow enough for the lion to see every detail of the man's distorted countenance.

He saw fear, understanding, and madness. He even knew what the man was going to do, he was going to yell and embolden him, and attack him with the arm that had been transformed into a blade by the power of chaos.

So the lion dismembered him before that, completely dismembered. Entrails and broken bones fell to the ground from his severed chest, and he was about to say something when the lion slapped him away with his sword, shattering his jaw and skull.

At the same time, two other claws from behind him attacked his back, far faster than any Astarte. Despicable, effective, precise, ruthless – the only problem is that none of them hit.

Without warning, the male lions disappeared again, only the scent of the moist forest and a green leaf drifting slowly and falling to the blood-stained ground, as if mocking their incompetence.

At the same time, the Gastalin Terminators, who had left the warband to hunt down the artillery squad and destroy the position, were once again attacked by the lion sword and the wolf spear, and the lion descended from the sky, brutally dismembered one of them, and then disappeared again.

The sound of shelling died down, silence began to fall around, and the traitors began to realize something else - they were being hunted.

There was no doubt about it, because every dozen seconds, a lion burst out of a dark corner, baring its fangs and biting one of them to pieces. His armor was covered with blood and steaming, and he came only for their death.

Fakus Kebo was also aware of this, but he was not surprised, which was expected by him. He had foreseen this day long before he watched the Emperor's sons kill each other on the Vengeful Spirit.

Kaibo knew that they would one day face the others on the battlefield, and that the Primordials would be involved - except for his Primordials.

His original body no longer exists, just an empty shell. Horus Lupecal will not order his brothers' legions to kill each other, will not let them attack them, and will not let the Spirit of Vengeance crash in Terra.

But he did not dare to resist. From beginning to end, Farkus Kaibo witnessed every detail, saw every bit of cruelty and coldness that did not belong to his father, and he still did not dare to resist.

How ridiculous, how pathetic, how . Deserve.

So, that's the end he deserves.

Farkus Kebo raised his bloodless lightning claw towards Leon El Johnson, then lowered it again.

Come on.

He closed his eyes. The wind blew, the smell of the wet earth flickered, and then a sharp pain came from his chest, and he opened his eyes, and saw the eyes of a lion before darkness hit.

A verdant green, utterly merciless, without the slightest mercy.

That's how it should be. That's what you should do to me. He struggled to spit out half a fragmented syllable, wanting to say something, but he couldn't say anything, not even tears.

"Farkus Kebo." The lion nodded at him. "Traitor."

The son of Horus smiled wordlessly and greeted his death. He fell to the ground, both hearts completely destroyed in the same instant, which was the lion's method - but he was not really dead, his eyes staring at the burning sky.

At the last moment of his life, he saw a golden light and a figure with wings on his back.

The dead Farkus Cabo was the first to see St. Giles coming.

——

Push it and do it again. Take a deep breath, exert force, push. Avoid the blade that is too big, hold the stone in place with the pierced palm and fingers, push, keep pushing. Take a deep breath, it's almost there, come back and push against your shoulders

Then the stone fell, fell from the cliff, and fell straight into the abyss. The wind howls, the dead scream, and the souls roar. Carlil stood on the edge of the cliff and watched it land, returning to the starting point without saying a word, that is, under the cliff.

He began to push continuously.

He had a golden glitter in his palm, and as Konstantin Valdo had said, he had one more chance, a chance to recall his memory. With it, the painful torture would be over, but he had to continue to endure it.

It's not time yet.

He focused on pushing the stone, but some images flashed before his eyes. Three coalition forces in front of the Star Torch Gate, five primitives. The burning fleet in orbit, the Glory Queens are gnawing at each other, and the burning surface of Mars

and a fleet in subspace.

He smiled.

Hurry up. Conrad. Otherwise, how would the gods be able to wake up for the last time?

This chapter is 4k, and there is one more chapter.

(End of chapter)