Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 230 Silent mourning poem in the evening wind

The massive Daemon Prince of Slaanesh has begun to enter a state of hysteria.

He swung the long, bony tails of his limbs in an angry and convulsive manner. These heavy objects whipped the stone platform into pieces, and his saliva dripped from his yelling, lipless mouth. Below, the corrosive liquid ablated one small hole after another on the ground.

The former First Company Commander of the Emperor's Children's eyes, covered with white mist, glared at the originally incompetent man with a look that was frightening and vicious even to demons, amidst the sallow, broken skin of a mummy. The one who should appear here.

This special court swordsman master's footwork that only the best of the Emperor's Children understand its power, this full of life and agility and perfection that can be reflected even in inanimate limbs. , unparalleled sense of coordination and rhythm control——

"It's impossible! It's impossible—! You can't be—"

"SHUT UP!! YOU DILGE THIS GLORY NAME!!! JULIAS KEYSORON!!!"

The Contemptor fearlessly let out a furious roar, and the power contained in it even resonated in the chests of everyone present, causing the rhythm of their heartbeats to be captured by it.

Endless hatred and feelings of betrayal swallowed up their "souls" like waves from a suffocating abyss.

The silver metal continues to flow from the fearless shining palm, and the black and white lines are twisted together to form a slender and elegant blade, and finally merge into a heartbreakingly perfect blade at the tip of the weapon. Sharp tip.

The communication between Garuda and him was completed in an instant. Needless to say, Fulgrim Ishtar immediately understood which process he wanted to perform on this weapon.

The Contemptor strode fearlessly in front of the vigilant clan commander and his shattered chief think tank, not caring that he was exposing his back to the howling demon that was lingering but not daring to move forward to attack.

The chief think tank was trembling in pain, sucking in air and pulling open his corroded and torn breastplates - they were almost fragments hanging on his metal rib plates - a silver-white fire with substance was burning. In his chest, there is where the chief think tank originally absorbed and accumulated all the power. It is also the last resort he prepared to close the subspace rift. The fuse originally paired with this last resort and the bait thrown to the devil will be special. Raise your own soul——

"Lavus...don't...stop...this is...necessary...he must...be able..."

But the weapon was not finally forged.

"What?" Lavus clenched his huge broad-bladed power sword warily. He was broken and scarred. He faced the enemy and his back to his brothers. His fingers were still tightly clasped on the stance activation button.

Wuwei gave them brief instructions.

But Chief Thinker Trazina, who had been filled with subspace power and became painful but clear, suddenly understood something. He took a hard breath and used his only remaining hand to hold up only half of his body and sit up. ——Putting it on other Astartes, such injuries would probably make them unable to move, let alone continuing to fight. However, the Iron Hands had already sacrificed their flesh and blood in exchange for precious persistence at this moment.

"Light it up."

The sharp and elegant silver Shabar saber was held in Fearless's hand, and it was solemnly and skillfully inserted into the chest of Lacuan's chief think tank. Raus' biochemical eyes witnessed all this extraordinary process, flashing a blazing warning. With red light, the clan commander squeezed his power sword tightly, and the machine soul and the metal of the server screamed urgently and heavily.

In Traci's painful groans and prayers, those pure silvery spiritual flames were gathered together by the think tank with their life force and soul. As soon as they touched the sword blade, they immediately clung happily along the whole body of the saber. Just like silver-white mercury meets gold, the psychic flames and the sword body are tightly blended together, forming a brighter, softer, elegant but deadly white gold. If you look closely, you can still see the fine black details. The electric light danced in it, almost like a crack in space.

"I... thank you for your work. Then I will end everything as soon as possible." When the Contemptor Fearless raised the sword again, its surface was burning with blazing white-gold flames and extremely subtle waves. The black electric light is like a weapon from concrete sanctions.

Fearless lowered his sword gracefully, turned around and walked towards the demon prince who was screaming and tearing apart the jeweled medals and flesh and blood ornaments inlaid with chains all over his body.

The Slaanesh demon named Julius Kythalon was crying and laughing. He howled wildly, tearing at his remaining hair and skin, and pieces of flesh fell from his huge and bloated whitewashed body.

He cried crazily and laughed wildly at the same time. When the sword burning with golden fire and electric light came, black bloody tears flowed down from the sunken eyes of the former Emperor's son along his dry cheeks. For a moment, the demon's huge His head was lowered in front of the platinum blade, seemingly giving up resistance and embracing the end of the mercy from the original body——

But he suddenly screamed again, with pain and more high-pitched sounds in his voice. A vicious purple musk mist illuminated him with a little psychedelic flash, overflowing from the subspace crack that was about to open, Emerged beside him, instantly drowning Julius Kesolon.

The next moment, a sickening feeling of ecstasy and gratitude emerged on the illusory and tattered ugly face that the demon had pieced together with old human skin, "Ah——! The Prince of Darkness takes care of me! You still take care of me!" So grateful!! I will catch him again for you... I will catch him again for you and give him to you! Provide for you!!!!"

The voice of the Demon Prince of Slaanesh became high-pitched and wild, and some huge pleasure combined with the power of the Supreme Heaven poured into his remaining soul from every wound and every break, completely stretching them open. ——Stretched flat——It started to burst. Julius laughed ecstatically again because of this intense pleasure of destruction that he had never experienced before. Qing's supernatural agility rushed towards Fearless, who looked small in comparison, and the even more insignificant platinum black lightning blade in his hand——

"You killed him."

Fulgrim uttered these words coldly, and then waved the platinum blade in his hand.

His body was dexterous and light for no reason, and the demon's speed seemed to be just as slow as an old man's movement in his eyes. The heels of his metal steps rubbed against the ground, making a slight sound. Fearless gently brushed against all the sharp claws, bone spurs, and sharp edges. The attack of the teeth "pointed" the blade burning with platinum flames on the back of the demon's neck, which was greatly strengthened by the power of subspace.

In an instant, it was like white phosphorus was thrown into the water.

There was a huge explosion, dazzling light and thick smoke.

Then there was the sound of something heavy falling to the ground with a thud.

"And I have avenged him."

The Iron Hands saw that the sacred machine waved its saber again almost wearily at the terrifying subspace crack and the demon army that roared endlessly behind it.

A supernaturally strong wind blew up, making even the heavy Terminator unsteady.

Then there was nothing there, as if it had never been there.

Only the last remnants of the demon who once called himself Julius Kesolon are dissipating in the evening wind that blows at an unknown time with the last dusk light of Shadenus.

The Purple King's mourning poem is silent.

(End of this chapter)