The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Although Dogo's firepower was fierce, the Abomination Overlord proved to be far more resilient than common sense would dictate. Bullets that could tear apart most flesh only caused superficial wounds. Enraged, it charged forward recklessly, moving faster than its massive size suggested. Even as Dogo began to move, the hammer was already descending upon him.

The hammer sent Dogo's rotary cannon flying and carved a deep furrow in the ground.

With an angry roar, the Abomination Overlord gripped its warhammer, raised it again, tensing its body in preparation for some brutal effort.

Then, a flash of warning made the monster's eyes widen, and the familiar on its back squawked. Instinctively, the Abomination Overlord brought its hammer down to block the incoming attack, but faster still, Dogo slid forward and drew his axe, severing the monster's leg and cutting through its knee.

The Abomination Overlord staggered from the blow. Even with a severed leg, it still attacked Dogo fiercely, but the weight of the hammer threw the crippled thing off balance.

As if ignited, the Furnace-Born quickly pounced on the fallen opponent, swinging his axe to sever its right arm and then cleave open the beast's stitched-together face.

Thick blood flowed from the ruptured eyes, and the Abomination Overlord's body convulsed in painful spasms. The familiar on its back was thrown to the ground, watching in horror as its once-invincible "mount" writhed like a wounded boar. Its right arm was almost completely severed, and the terrifying warhammer slipped from its loosening grip.

The familiar emitted a horrifying shriek, loud enough to shatter eardrums. It was a summons. Fresh blood spilled from the surrounding shadows, frantically trying to save the crippled beast.

Dogo dodged their laser beams and then charged at them like a wild animal, his battleaxe burning even hotter, swinging again and again, each time severing a head or limb, splattering another mass of purple entrails and spitting out a string of loathsome chitinous shells.

Even faced with an unyielding war god, the fresh blood wielded daggers, pistols, pickaxes, and gang weapons, trying to overwhelm him with the pressure of numbers.

"Wahaha!"

With a burst of wild laughter, Rozim, wielding dual blades, dashed forward, severing the head of the Abomination Overlord as it tried to rise. The beast's head drooped lifelessly, falling to the ground like a withered flower, followed by another slash that turned the familiar into slag.

As the warhammer clattered to the ground, Rozim sprinted towards Dogo again, cutting down the surrounding fresh blood and purebloods.

"Stop screwing around! Go grab that bitch!"

"Haa! Hic! Haa!"

"Drink your hammer!"

Rozim took the bottle thrown by Isvin and shoved it into Dogo's mouth like a baby bottle, then dragged him in the direction the Four-Armed Sorceress had fled.

Then, he discovered that she seemed to have escaped to the deeper underground using a lift, so he summoned Quairo and used its walking machine to blast open the ground and descend along the elevator shaft.

After the massive machine landed with a bang, Rozim found themselves in a series of tilted and shattered halls. The floor of this hall was tiled, and the ceiling was arched. Some kind of biomass tendrils wrapped along the walls, gathering together as if turning this place into a biological heart, all fine blood vessels.

Even as he approached these biomasses, Rozim could feel a kind of throbbing propagating through the stretched skin membrane, stirring the air with blood-like warm winds, and moisture clinging to the skin.

"Boss, maybe we should just forget about it."

Isvin felt a little scared, holding his laser gun and warily watching the surrounding shadows.

"That alien bitch is probably ugly too."

"We've already come this far!"

The next second, the attack came suddenly, but not unexpectedly.

The originally empty hall was instantly swept by a tide of chitin and claws, and a large number of purebloods shrieked and poured out, this time determined to stop these hateful intruders—

But

"Damn it! I'll see where you run—"

Kicking away the remains of a pureblood, Rozim, who had been cutting his way through, appeared in a cavernous space. He immediately saw a huge throne made of biological remains and rubble. The Four-Armed Sorceress and some robe-wearing Genestealer elites stood on either side. It rose like an island in a pool of biomass pus. Many tiny monsters in the liquid shrieked at the intruders. A naked woman was suspended in mid-air. On the throne, a huge thing was entrenched, staring at Rozim with evil red eyes.

Hiss—

Visible psychic ripples spread in the air, directly approaching Rozim. A normal person would instantly lose their mind just by being glared at.

However, this psychic energy dissipated three meters in front of Rozim. The Patriarch let out a puzzled growl. He didn't know that the necklace around Rozim's neck was a brainwave blocker made by Kren.

"Want to fight? All you dogs come at me!"

Rozim laughed and waved his dual blades, charging forward. The huge alien also slowly stood up, like a mountain of muscle and chitin. It was now extremely angry that a few small creatures could cause such a disturbance in its nest. It had to tear all these little things apart with its claws, otherwise the clan's psychic song would be shrouded in shadow.

"And then?"

Sorkar blinked, wondering why Rozim had stopped.

Rozim scratched his head and said:

"Then they took the opportunity to throw a few stasis grenades and froze that thing in place."

"Huh? Where did you get stasis grenades? That thing isn't some small item."

"Found them in the Maelstrom last time."

Sorkar clicked his tongue. He knew Rozim was definitely lying, but it didn't matter. From the moment he met Rozim, he was rarely surprised by what happened to this "cook". Even when he was still a recruit and the other was still a cook apprentice, Rozim had created many miracles that could be called farcical.

Sometimes he wondered if such a life was more interesting and comfortable than being a hero.

Perhaps Sorkar himself had never realized deep down that he envied Rozim's way of life. It was precisely because of this that he repeatedly indulged the other's freedom and unruliness—because it was something he yearned for but could never obtain, a freedom that he could no longer obtain even if he possessed god-like power.

So although he kept a straight face throughout, he actually listened very carefully to the bizarre and absurd story Rozim told, as if he were admiring the running figure on the screen and the unrestrained, nonsensical plot, as if he longed to escape those destinies but had to dance in shackles.