The Emperor’s Angel of Death

As the initial blessing, the Imperial Governor had an extra mouth on his stomach many years ago. It wasn't the terrifying kind, but one with rosy lips and white teeth, biting down hard on Yvraine's weapon. From time to time, a scarlet tongue would slide along the barrel.

After glancing at Prince Eldarion, the Governor reached out and grabbed a pile of something from the plate beside him, then tilted his head back.

At that moment, Yvraine's eyes widened in fury.

"You dare!"

He tried to pull his weapon back, but the other's mouth had already opened to an unbelievable angle. As the hand loosened, a whole handful of soulstones fell into his mouth.

"Delicious. Truly a feast fit for my master."

Seeing the other party devour his brethren's soulstones right in front of him, Yvraine was consumed with rage, spurring his mount to trample the Governor.

However, in an instant, the surrounding floating tentacles wrapped around him. Yvraine cut off two, but the remaining tentacles entangled his throat and arms.

At the same time, the Governor trembled violently, his eyes rolling back, his limbs contorting. The surrounding daemonettes actually began to clap and laugh, ignoring Prince Eldarion.

In that instant, his jaw suddenly swelled, and a swirling mass of mouth-like tentacles, like vipers, spewed from the Governor's throat, engulfing Yvraine.

In a flash, the Prince abandoned his mount, swung his spear, and severed the tentacles, quickly somersaulting over the saddle.

The next moment, he heard the carnodon's scream and the tearing of flesh, the sound of bones breaking.

The Governor had begun to devour prey almost twice his size. In extreme gluttony, something was quietly changing within the Governor. His skin began to tear, muscles bulged, and the transformation of mutated flesh covered the old muscles with new ones.

In almost a few breaths, he transformed into a behemoth nearly four meters tall, horns and tentacles protruding from all over his body. He also gained a crab claw-like right arm, and his skin turned an ugly mix of red and purple. The only things that remained unchanged were his obesity and depravity, and the eternally insatiable mouth on his stomach, which now looked more like a demon.

"Praise the Dark Prince! My Lord! I will offer you eternal delicacies!"

Just as he finished speaking, a small mouth that emitted seductive sounds burst out on his shoulder. Every blasphemous word it uttered seared Yvraine's senses.

When the Governor looked down at him, Yvraine felt how terrifying, vicious, and greedy he was. He craved his essence, just like their race's eternal enemy.

"Prince! Get out of here!"

At that moment, a Dragon Knight swooped in. Yvraine decisively turned and jumped onto the knight's back, while the corrupted Governor did not pursue, only letting out a mocking laugh, because he knew that no Aeldari could escape the Dark Prince's grasp. This ritual was about to be completed.

He didn't even react when the Aeldari hurriedly retreated into their last line of defense, because he knew that the taste of food huddled together, surrounded by fear, was the best.

And when he saw the soldiers beginning to dance wildly under the guidance of the Dark Prince's handmaidens, an ugly smile appeared on his face.

This Aeldari world was just the beginning. Once he completed his ascension, he would return to his original domain, where there were more delicacies waiting to be savored. Those billions of blind, withered souls would be another fine dish.

At this moment, his mind was filled with mad thoughts, and he didn't notice that there had been no news from the fleet in orbit for a long time.

While the fires of the Ancestral Forest were turning in a terrifying direction, the forces guarding the distant coastline were completely unaware. They were just holding their ground, following the orders they had been given, and even some anomalies in the distant sky did not arouse their vigilance, because a large cloud had shrouded the sky at some point.

Many people guessed that it was going to rain.

After clearing his throat, Captain Dawson placed one hand on the hull of the Hydra flak cannon, and with the other, he tossed aside his satchel, which was filled to the brim with various shells, as if a long auger shell was poking his waist—the colonel subsequently threw it to his adjutant.

"Carry it for me."

The adjutant tested its weight in his hand, then asked curiously:

"Sir, is it valuable?"

"It's quite valuable. A lot of things in this world are damn valuable. Any random flower or weed can be sold for a high price in a hive city, but they've all been burned by those damn bastards."

Dawson shook his head helplessly as he spoke. He was the child of a fisherman. Growing up on an agricultural world, he had lived by the sea since he was a child and knew a lot about various shells, but he had never seen such exquisite ones. All the shells in this world looked like some kind of gem or jade, not only having incredible exquisite patterns, but even emitting different colors in the water.

Based on his experience as a child, he immediately judged that rich people would definitely be willing to pay a high price to buy such things, so he desperately searched for shells on the beach when there was no fighting.

However, these things seemed to have hidden themselves since the war started. He had been searching for almost a week and only found this little bit.

Taking a deep breath, Dawson turned his gaze to the sea, which had begun to churn and roar due to the sudden strong sea breeze, and pondered how to make one last haul before the war ended.

After all, barring any accidents, captain was the limit for a common soldier like him. Although retirement from the Astra Militarum was a low probability, he had survived. Barring any accidents, he could retire after this war.

At that time, he would need a lot of money, because he wanted to buy a large fishing boat to fulfill his childhood dream—

"Sir, can...can I have this one?"

Hearing the adjutant's words, Dawson rolled his eyes and scolded unceremoniously:

"Go find your own!"

The twenty-five-year-old adjutant stretched out his hand and said helplessly:

"Sir, look, my fingernails are all worn down, and I haven't found a single one."

"That's because you're stupid! Didn't I teach you how to harvest from the sea? The opportunity is right here, but you can't seize it. You deserve to be a grunt forever! Why don't you learn from those sneaky bastards in the 89th regiment and secretly dig up plants or steal small objects left behind by the Aeldari?"

"But...but the commissar said that possessing alien artifacts is punishable by death..."

"The bold starve the timid to death. Then you'll be a starving ghost for the rest of your life!"

"Then, sir, I heard that we've occupied a planet. Is it true that we'll have the opportunity to retire and settle here?"

Dawson chuckled and patted the other party's face with his hand.

"Are you awake? We don't deserve a good place like this, do we? After the war, this will most likely be the Governor's private garden. What do you think we're risking our lives for? For the Emperor?"

After speaking, he shook his head and left the Hydra flak vehicle.

Tomorrow more updates~