The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Jain Zar had voiced her concerns more than once, but her mentor, the First Phoenix, seemed more focused on the fate of the race as it stood. This wasn't necessarily wrong, but she always felt that things should be prepared for in advance, as these creatures had already demonstrated a significant threat.

Perhaps humanity could still stand against these creatures now, but if humanity were consumed, then the fate of Aeldari would also be consumed.

She had discussed this with another of her friends, who thought she was being a bit of an alarmist. Perhaps she was, but that was also why she had chosen to help Veruna, whatever her views on that individual, she at least admitted that his vision was far-reaching enough. The Aeldari race wouldn't have a second chance to make a mistake.

But in any case, they had arrived too late to save it.

"It's all ruined."

The Exarch of the Blades of Vengeance came to her side, speaking in a trembling voice filled with cold fury.

"Look, every single soulstone has been taken... or shattered. These greenskins have defiled this place."

Jain Zar didn't want to point out that she was blaming the greenskins just to find an outlet for her anger, because the greenskins deserved to die, even if they weren't the culprits behind this tragedy.

The Shrine of the First Seer was littered with greenskin traces, along with half-burnt remains, indicating that they had definitely used it as a gathering place.

"Make these filthy vermin pay."

The Storm of Silence gripped her spear tightly, able to feel the distance between herself and the banshee's wail. It was that constant, stirring melody that connected all Howling Banshees, and it was that melody that drove them to kill in the name of Khaine.

Soon, the sound of dense, heavy footsteps emerged from ahead. The Phoenix Lord felt the war song rise from her throat, hardening her heart into a sharp blade.

The scraping grew louder and louder, followed by a large group of greenskins charging out. They had deployed a simple trap, letting the enemy into their territory before surrounding them. This was a common tactic used by greenskin pirates; they were more cunning than most of their kind.

"Chop up these skinny beanstalks!"

The pirate gang's first mate raised his choppa, letting out a roar that shook the dome.

The greenskins surged forward, the guns in their hands flashing brightly, illuminating their bloodshot eyes and protruding tusks.

The Howling Banshees twisted and turned, then threw the shuriken from their hands. Each of these high-speed blades could pierce the throats of two or three greenskins before returning to the hands of the warriors.

And their Phoenix Lord, facing the roaring green tide, simply flicked her flowing black hair. The three-bladed shuriken tied to the end of her hair streaked across the air with a black trail, piercing and severing everything in its path, including spiritbone ruins and greenskins, heading straight for the greenskin first mate.

"What the grot is that thing!"

The greenskin first mate was taken aback, hastily waving his choppa to swat the thing away, but the moment the two weapons collided, the shuriken flew back, returning to Jain Zar's hand.

At the same time, a massive number of greenskins surged towards the Howling Banshees, attacking them with crude weapons.

The Howling Banshees responded with piercing screams, sound waves erupting from their angry Khaine-masks, instantly tearing apart the greenskins' flesh and dismantling their bones. A spore-filled stench of blood permeated the air.

Some of the grots realized they were about to be slaughtered, so they turned and tried to run, but the greenskins surging from behind blocked their escape route.

Sharp cries of agony seethed through the hall, the fear of death spreading through the horde like a virus.

Jain Zar felt a pulse of joy, the bass notes echoing in the depths of her soul transforming into high-pitched trebles. She temporarily stopped thinking about her race or grand designs; she only wanted to sing the song of death now.

"Oi, you gitz! Hold still! Hold still! Just a few squawking skinny gits! Hold the line! Get to it! Anyone who retreats gets a choppa up their backside!!"

The first mate tried hard to maintain order, constantly using his choppa to smack those grots who tried to turn back. The boarding party elites were also using their own axes and shields to try and force back those swift-as-wind banshees.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of tearing flesh and screams. Turning his head, he saw the guy who had thrown the shuriken at him earlier had arrived again. Now, the black hair on her towering helmet seemed to bristle as if stimulated. The spear in her hand emitted a strange light, and her movements were as fast as a black lightning bolt. Wherever she went, there were only flying heads and severed limbs, as well as blood and screams splashing into the sky.

Anyway, the first mate didn't want to be touched by that spear.

Fortunately, he had a plan. He nodded to a Mekboy beside him, who began to operate a huge grav-cannon. This thing was best suited to deal with these fast-moving things, although it was also easy to accidentally injure allies.

But before the Mekboy could prepare the weapon, a short scream came from its mouth. The first mate turned his head and saw a glittering claw sticking out from the center of the Mekboy's forehead. Behind it, he didn't know when, there was an skinny git wearing light blue armor. It had something like a shell on its back, and the narrow goggles on its slender mask revealed a cold light.

As the opponent pulled out the blade, the Mekboy's body tilted backward, blood and brains flowing from the wound.

At the same time, the first mate immediately pulled out his pistol and shot at the thing, but the opponent directly disappeared on the spot. He didn't know this thing was called a Warp Spider, but he felt the danger.

"Fire! Fire!"

His reminder came too late. The Dark Reapers fired their deadly weapons, and a series of micro-missiles exploded. The thunderous rumble then spread throughout the magnificent hall, and a large area of white, snow-like spiritbone fragments tilted down, burying dozens of slow-moving grots who failed to escape.

Aeldari gunships poured in from the gaps in the dome, they strafed while dropping off the Howling Avengers who were already anticipating blood.

The first mate cursed loudly while considering whether he should retreat. After all, that bloody boss of his had run away at the first opportunity. If he hadn't been thinking that he would become the boss himself after repelling the enemy, he would have slipped away long ago.

Thinking about it now, it seemed that his boss was still very discerning.

This battle couldn't be fought, it couldn't be fought at all!

So he immediately made a choice—

"Boss, where are you going!"

"I'm changing direction to attack!"

However, just as he ran to a safe exit, dodging the flying shuriken and lasers all the way, he heard a burst of screams and clamor outside. He thought his retreat route had been cut off, and decisively accelerated to escape the archway.

As a result, as soon as he went out, he saw many grots looking up at a high place in astonishment.

On the spire of the highest ritual dome of the Craftworld, something was slowly rising. After seeing it, the first mate also gasped.

Wasn't that thing the pirate boss!?