The Emperor’s Angel of Death

"Boss, am I accurate or what?!"

After the Aberrant was smashed into a paste on the wall, Krenn, not far away, put down his heavy gun and let out a deep chuckle.

"Isn't my newest shiny gun powerful enough?!"

"Powerful, very powerful!"

But Genestealers are different from most enemies; under mind control, they can relentlessly sacrifice themselves for a single goal.

Therefore, although the Aberrant died, more fresh blood surged from the darkness, emitting fanatical screams. Laser beams dispersed the darkness, grenades flew through the air, and bullets hammered the walls and floor.

Faced with the dense firepower, Rozhim had to take cover. Fortunately, their firepower was not weak either. Isvin, wielding a grenade launcher, continuously sent deadly explosives towards the opponents, while Dogo hacked and slashed all the way, seemingly invulnerable without his clothes.

When a Purestrain tried to tear apart the stubborn dwarf with its claws, the burning axe directly cleaved into the Genestealer's chest. The Tyranid opened its mouth to scream, but as it did so, its teeth fell from its jaw, and charred tongue remnants dropped into its throat.

Rozhim seized the opportunity for a fierce rush, trampling over dozens of Genestealers on the slippery ground, and spotted a staggering, fleeing figure.

Due to her attire, the woman found it inconvenient to run, and even walking a bit faster revealed large patches of her white skin. Her full buttocks especially captivated Rozhim's gaze.

"Heh, I'll definitely defile you!"

Just as Rozhim's mind was consumed by lust, he noticed a sinister figure cloaked in black blocking his path. The figure's pale hand held a curved staff, with a scythe-like blade at the end pointing towards him.

"Who exactly are you people?"

The figure had a dark and sickly face, evil and gaunt, glaring at Rozhim.

"Us? We are from the Imperial Medical Association!"

Rozhim waved his greatsword, very domineeringly.

"Medical Association? What do you treat?"

Isvin also popped out from behind Rozhim.

"We specialize in treating sexual frustration."

"And being born into the wrong body!"

The figure was momentarily stunned, subconsciously asking:

"How do you treat being born into the wrong body?"

"Of course, by killing you! And letting you be reborn again!"

As Rozhim and Isvin charged forward, the figure's narrow mouth wriggled, whispering some form of incantation. Subsequently, a ghostly energy orb flew from the staff.

Rozhim and Isvin quickly dodged, and the area where they had been standing was corroded into a large pit.

Next, the Genestealer Magus seemed about to unleash another psychic attack, but the next second, he screamed, and his torso separated from his legs, landing as a pool of blood on the distant wall.

A stocky figure crashed through the barricade, its flame-like head turning from side to side, scanning the corridor for its prey.

"Hic! Another drink!"

Letting out a drunken hiccup, Dogo directly grabbed a wine bottle hanging on the wall, shattered the bottleneck with his teeth, and then poured the wine, along with the broken glass, into his mouth.

"Another drink!"

As he discarded the empty wine bottle, the totems on his body glowed even more crimson. The fresh-blood Genestealers surrounding the dwarf retreated in fear; they had discovered that their weapons could not even scratch the monster's skin.

But at this moment, Dogo seemed to be in a drunken stupor, waving his axe erratically.

"Hic! What! Bullshit Chosen One! Hic! I am! A descendant! Hic! Of Grolanni! I am! Hic!"

Suddenly, the ground shook violently, even causing many of the surrounding fresh-bloods to fall.

A behemoth descended from above, its limbs still bearing the remnants of broken chains, indicating it had been recently restrained.

Dogo looked up to meet the monster's gaze. He saw two contorted faces squeezed together and four misshapen eyes, filled only with madness and violence.

This was something even larger than the previous Aberrant, half a head taller than a Space Marine. Its muscles bulged in an almost insane manner, with bone plates and spines growing irregularly across its body, like a grotesque servitor made of fragmented muscle and chitin. Its right hand clutched a massive hammer, and on its back, covered in bone plates, a chattering, ugly little alien emitted a shrill sound.

An Aberrant Dominus, the champion among Aberrants. If the Patriarch is the heart of a Genestealer Cult and the Magus is the soul, then the Aberrant Dominus is the brutal iron fist. This monster is born from the most grotesque gene-twisting technology of the aliens.

The creature on its back is called a Mindwyrm Familiar, a psychic construct formed from the decaying ichor gathered in the Patriarch's lair. When instructed to create a savage killer, it seeks out a suitable Aberrant and implants tiny ovipositors into the Aberrant's tough hide, releasing a powerful curse into its cellular structure.

Soon, this Aberrant will be reshaped during a long and painful night of mutation. Its already sturdy frame becomes even larger, enduring the pain of muscle tearing and bone breaking under the pressure of insane mutation. But these wounds are quickly healed by the mutagen bestowed by the Patriarch, like flesh rapidly regenerating from enemy attacks. And after bestowing this peculiar gift, the Mindwyrm Familiar does not leave empty-handed, but continues to impose the Patriarch's will upon the Aberrant Dominus.

In battle, the Aberrant Dominus uses its clumsy body to charge straight into the most fortified lines, breaking through the enemy's defenses and smashing anything in its path with a heavy iron hammer. The other Aberrants blindly follow this clumsy beast into battle, inciting even greater carnage. The fresh-bloods see the Aberrant Dominus as a living saint, one chosen by the gods and anointed with blessed oils. In fact, the Aberrant Dominus has little emotional or mental attachment to the cult lord. Due to its intelligence being little greater than that of an infant, the Aberrant Dominus can never play the role of a war leader.

As the two entities, one large and one small, with extremely disparate physiques, locked eyes, the clamor of battle faded.

The other fresh-bloods retreated, their eyes flashing with anticipation and fear, their minds howling for blood.

But they were soon driven to attack Rozhim and the others, accompanied by the addition of more Aberrants.

Dogo spat on the ground, struck a pose with his burning battleaxe, and approached the beast.

He circled the monster, and the monster circled him. Its footsteps were somewhat erratic, which ultimately angered the extremely low-IQ Dominus. It roared and launched an attack, the warhammer swinging down in a shining arc of death—but it missed, slamming into the tile floor and instantly creating a large crater.

"In the name of the ancestors and vengeance!!!"

Dogo roared and threw his axe. The monster clearly did not expect its opponent to abandon his weapon, and, unable to dodge, took the axe directly in its right leg.

The beast let out a painful roar after being injured, and the Mindwyrm Familiar on its back also hurled psychic lightning at Dogo, but to no effect.

Immediately afterward, Dogo directly pulled out an oversized rotary machine gun from his storage belt. Instantly, the Aberrant Dominus and the Mindwyrm Familiar on its back were stunned.

"Dieeeeeee—"

Accompanied by the dwarf's roar, the massive beast staggered continuously in the dense rain of bullets, forced to raise its arms to shield its head, but its body bloomed with vibrant purple flowers, roaring loudly in anger and pain.