God Emperor’s Angel of Death

The screams enveloped the "Destroying Ghost" battle barge that was sailing along the tides of the subspace. Thousands of people were nailed to the outside of the ship's hull and hung.

When the battleship entered the warm embrace of God’s Domain from the cold physical universe, they were still alive—to a certain extent.

Their death extends infinitely into a kind of eternal pain. Demons are attached to their bodies in groups, firmly following the battleship, and drawing humans when their bodies and souls are shattered. Pain and sanity.

From the top, the spear-pointed hull of the "Destroying Ghost" seems to be wrapped in a layer of creeping chitin and rotten flesh. The red flame burns in a slow rhythm, accompanied by the tortured The scream and the horn of satisfaction when the devil eats.

"Holy..."

The chaos wizard Garon Suleite whispers in his mind

"Truth..."

wizard nodded.

"The glory belongs to the four eternal gods that encompass all things,"

He continued loudly the prayers that he had not stopped since the "destroying ghost" broke through the physical universe and entered the sacred realm.

"Glory to the truth of the 8th layer of Eternal Inextinguishable."

He sits in the middle of a black glass floor, right in front of the large observation window of the tower.

Eight concealed persons, each carrying an incense burner, the incense rises from the furnace, and under the robe of each attendant is a pile of mutated and corrupt flesh.

These people have hidden the blessings they have received, and they have dedicated their sight and hearing to serve Garon Suleit.

Galon Suleite, a member of the original Whisperer, killed dozens of comrades in order to study black magic, and was eventually exiled by Legion, becoming a notorious guy in the eyes of fear.

For a mortal who can serve him, it is a blessing beyond imagination to be able to get enlightenment and sacrifice.

If you look directly at his face or hear his secret words, the souls of the attendants will be unbearable.

Further back, is the only door to the tower's secret room, and there are two people hunched by their bodies.

The red velvet cloak covers the whole body from head to toe, and drags it to the surrounding floor, and these two people are also motionless.

A candle made of human fat, blood, and skeleton hung above their heads. The candle was engraved with a black emblem, and the tears of the candle dripped to the ground as the flame burned.

He wandered and thought, he knew the whispers in his ears were true.

The wizard stood up from the ground where he was sitting, without robes and armor.

In meditation moments, Garon Sulet always chooses to remember that he is made of flesh and blood. When he stands up, his muscles will shake smoothly, from neck to toes.

The skin on his body is pierced and branded. It comes from many extinct civilizations in the past few thousand years---both humans and Xenos, and Garon Suleit can master any of them. A language.

For a chaos wizard, knowledge is power, not fiction, but real.

He covered his face with his hands and blocked his eyes for a while.

"Soul..."

He felt the call of the divine realm and got an answer.

The black smoke of illusory condenses around him, like water droplets and ink fainting on the parchment.

The shadows of faces gathered and hovered in large numbers, there was silent pain in the screams, and the voices of crying and resentment were heard in his mouth, and his mind was full of whispers. ,

"Who are you?"

"I don't want to die—"

The wailing of a poor beast was ignored by Garon Sulet, He continued to search for the answer.

"Who are you?"

"Oh, please be merciful--"

Is another unlucky person, ignoring it.

"Who are you?"

"The unborn."

"What did you say?"

"Your destruction ——"

"Shut up, then."

Galon Sulet ordered the shadows around him to stretch out ghostly fingers—their touch passed his The skin, the cold flame burns through the flesh and blood.

"Your death is near."

The voice rang directly in his head.

"We remember..."

"The deceased remember..."

Galon Sulet closed his teeth, The pain in the body was like a supernova explosion, and the brain seemed to be nailed into it-there is nothing worse than being cursed by the subspace.

More importantly, he doesn't know where this threat comes from.

Could it be that poor little planet and little Chapter that they are about to destroy?

Unconsciously, a layer of armor formed on Garon Suleite's skin.

Soon, the pottery steel armor plate, shoulder armor and arm armor gradually formed as the shadow enveloped, and the circuit and fiber bundles interacted with his nerve system.

Finally, crimson's armor wrapped him all, except for the head.

"Disperse."

The shadow fades and returns to the sacred realm, leaving only echoes of hatred and resentment.

The curse he had been bearing on has also disappeared from his body, so he bowed his head and thanked God for his blessing.

Finally, he turned around and came to the wall of the secret room. His helmet was placed on the top layer of the weapon rack, and it was shaped into an angry roar on one side and a sneer at the other side.

His weak comrades used to call him a "two-faced man."

Like his skin, a large number of symbols are printed on a copper-colored helmet, his eyes are like coals burning in a furnace, his sharp silver teeth form a big mouth, and his forehead has two pans. With long horns of obsidian rays of light.

Except for a short solitary meditation, he has been wearing it all the time.

Galon Suleite reached out and picked up the helmet, feeling the malice and the bloody smell of his tongue.

Then he put the helmet on his head, the internal barb immediately pierced into the cheek, and the breathing tube was automatically connected to his armor.

As he breathed, the smell of smoke filled his eyes, and the strange rune revolved in his eyes, and the colors and lines that mortals could not see appeared in the room.

"Here is..."

Realizing that something is approaching, Garon Suleite said to himself.

As the gate separating the sanctuary of the tower was opened, Garon Sulet turned around and bent over, and the people wrapped in red robes knelt down.

These red waiters can neither hear the door opening nor see who is coming in, but the coercion of the visitors is enough to make them kneel on the ground.

'Black Heart King' Huron paused for a moment at the threshold, the giant claws in his left hand flashed with a black light that was incomprehensible, and his body was covered with a scarlet armor full of cracks.

If it weren't for his expression, it would look like a failed warrior.

Although the gods gave him a new life, they also left the mark of his failure on him. This cracked armor is one of them, and it has also become Huron’s cage-the tyrant Can only survive in the armor full of dark energy, once left, it will all split up and in pieces.

In the inhuman vision, Huron’s existence is again the rays of light ten thousand zhang. This is not the wild anger that shrouds the son of Khorne, nor the primordial ether of Tzeentch wizard. Strength is not Nurgle's smoky stench, and certainly not Slaanesh's sultry fragrance.

That is a primordial gushing force.

Aside from this, Garon Suleit can't detect anything else.

"Ha, please forgive me for interrupting your ceremony."

"The ceremony and it's over, my lord."

Huron walked to him , Close your eyes briefly.

"We have been sailing for a whole week, and we will reach the edge of the Nathan Galaxy in two days, where we will learn fiercely's lesson from that fanatic, and will make Imperium remember our existence again. "

In addition to half of the Red Pirate’s forces, the main fleet of 2/3/2021 will be dispatched this time, including a dozen capital ships including the battlecruiser "Hawk Hook". One of the few small battleships.

Huron is determined to win this time.

Suddenly, the tyrant stopped talking and walked towards the observation porthole, where the dizzying rays of light danced outside.

For an instant, Garon Sulet wanted to know what Huron saw in his eyes.

The sacred realm is a mirror to the soul. For everyone who dares to look at each other, what they see is different.

When Garon Suleite looked towards the subspace, he only saw Nether Soul, and he gave up his doubts about it a long time ago.

"They must be impossible to withstand a single blow."

The wizard said flatteringly.

"No."

Huron shook the head.

"I feel that things are not that simple. Although I am not a wizard like you, and I don’t know any predictions or visions, the subspace often pours out some secrets to me, although I will ignore most of them. But some... things are not that simple."

When Huron turned to Garon Sulet, the dancing Nether Soul was reflected in the wizard’s eyes,

"Do you understand?"

Garon Sulet lowered his head, thoughts full of thoughts.

"Master, what can I do for you?"

Huron turned around, and Garon Sulet could perceive the cold and enthusiasm in the other party, as if it melted into the shadows. Among.

"The subspace is too calm. The calm makes me scared. I have a hunch that something is happening...We have to prepare in advance."

Said, The overlord of the vertical and horizontal vortex actually sighed, this is an extremely rare gesture.

"Send a message to the pupils of hell so that they can increase their alertness and perform subspace transfers if necessary."

"Yes, master."

At this moment, a warrior hurriedly walked in and brought a very bad news.

"Master, the Astral Whisperers of the Nasir Waterk fleet have just sent a message that they ran into the Astral Knight fleet on the edge of the big vortex! And they were the main fleet, they wiped out Nasir ·Watke and most of his men, only—"

Before he could finish his words, Huron’s sharp claw was inserted into his chest again, and he was thrown away. .

"Soshian, I @￥##@*!!!"

A series of curses in low Gothic language echoed for a long time on the deck of ruining ghosts...