The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Relying on a kind of unity rarely seen in Commorragh, Duran and his group of small slaves gradually carved out a niche for themselves in the lower levels. After joining the Black Heart Kabal, they organized their own raiding party and grew step by step.

But now, all of them are gone, not a single one remains. Duran felt boundless resentment in his heart.

Therefore, he hated Vect, Corezz Vraelius, and the Black Heart Kabal. After being captured, he had been trying to show his loyalty to Sozyen, hoping that the other party would accept him, but Sozyen didn't even show his face until he brought the news of the Trial by Fire.

Duran was a very decisive person, and he acted immediately. This trial, with its slim chance of survival, was only a small test in his not-so-long life. He had experienced many life-and-death crises that were riskier than this.

The ritual was not complicated. After incense burning and bathing, they would wear only a white robe, hold their soul stones, and ascend the steps of the shrine shrouded in the True Fire of Asuryan until they reached the top, where Sozyen and the Grail of Asuryan would be. The successful would receive the blessing of Asuryan, a power that had disappeared for tens of thousands of years.

But when Duran first saw the huge pyramid-shaped shrine, he was shocked by its grandeur, which made it seem perfectly feasible for thousands of people to climb. What shocked him even more was the oppressive heat even a hundred meters away. Each step was burning with platinum-white flames, and even the translucent interior of the pyramid was ablaze. The high temperature distorted the light, and they could hardly see anything above the steps except for a white light.

This book is first published on the entire network by 𝕥𝕨𝕜𝕒𝕟.𝕔𝕠𝕞

When the personnel were all present, obscure incantations were chanted from Madiel's spirit-bone shell, followed by a spinning gust of wind that briefly enveloped all the participants before dissipating, but retaining that obscure aura, preparing for the subsequent ritual.

"Praise the Primal Phoenix, praise Asuryan, it has never fallen, it will be reborn in your bodies!"

"Praise Asuryan, praise Asuryan..."

In the past, Duran had never had the slightest interest in the old gods of their race, but now he had to constantly mutter the name of their former father god to bless himself, which made him feel a little ridiculous, but he immediately dismissed it. This was not the time to joke.

"Ascend!"

At Madiel's command, six thousand candidates began to climb from the four sides of the pyramid. Duran was also the first to step onto the first step, as he had long been accustomed to taking the lead in everything.

The infusion of psychic energy and the pre-administered potion took effect. When the surrounding area began to fill with rising heat waves, Duran only felt a slight warmth, as if being caressed by the spring sun.

But as he gradually ascended, after less than a hundred steps, the surrounding area was already full of raging flames, and he felt as if the scorching sun was baking his hair and skin.

Originally, he could still see the climbers around him, but at this point, he could see nothing around him, and his whole body was enveloped in flames.

But he knew he couldn't stop. He gritted his teeth and stepped on the scorching steps with his bare feet. His eyes had been stimulated by the bright white flames and he couldn't open them. The tip of his tongue began to taste of blood, his nasal cavity felt like it was on fire, and his hearing was almost lost. However, his hair and robe were not burned, but the heat he felt had begun to turn into scorching.

After walking up who knows how many more steps, the scalding heat almost made Duran faint. He felt as if he had fallen into a huge furnace, with boiling water and scorching iron cooking his entire body.

How much further?

How much further...

In his consciousness, a whip struck the side of his head, knocking the weak him to the ground, his head covered in blood, and fear violently tugged at his heart.

→

The overseer looked down at him with a sneer, the towering tower being built in the distance like an ungrown thorn among countless spikes. Several hands helped him up, all with the same fearful and desperate faces. He wiped the blood from his forehead and continued to push the huge cage in front of him, which was full of corpses to be used as materials. Many people had been talking and eating with him not long ago.

Chaos suddenly descended, their lord needed new warriors, and the slaves got a chance—

She stood in front of him, and the knife in his hand pierced her chest. As the dark blood flowed from her pale skin, her eyes sparkled.

In many dark days, in the cold hut that could only be called a den, only she gave him a trace of warmth. He didn't know what to call her, sister, lover, or...

Something else, but the time he spent sleeping in her arms was the only time he could feel at ease.

She fell, followed by laughter, wanton laughter, and then, under orders, he knelt down like a puppet, cut open her body, and took out her heart.

At this moment, the essence of his soul opened like an abyss, revealing the doom that awaited him.

Death, curse, and hunger would one day devour him, burning him from the inside out—

With the memories came a lingering sense of unease, even worse than the psychic hunger that had tormented him his entire life. It was like a thousand daggers in his heart, a thousand sharp blades cutting his thoughts, a thousand vile acts reflected on each shining blade.

Despair, hatred, anger, desire...

All of these were washed away as his life flowed out of the soul wound, replaced by a violent pain.

And...

Guilt.

He didn't know if it was love, but he would never forget the woman who didn't even have a name. It was the deepest scar on his soul, now ruthlessly torn open.

Duran tried hard to open his eyes, but the white, bright light blinded him. There was too much pain, and he was even a little lost.

Without hunger, without fear, he was nothing.

He didn't want to be erased. Like a broken net, the more he struggled, the tighter the net became.

At this moment, he discovered the truth, there could be more than war, hatred, and pain...

The nobles laughed loudly at the banquet, while slaves with the same characteristics as them writhed in death. The most deaths in Commorragh were not of slaves of other races, but of the Aeldari themselves.

That was not a sanctuary, but a devil's den piled up with countless Aeldari corpses!

He felt sorrow, sorrow so deep that it could flood the whole world. Only then did he understand why he felt guilty for a female slave who didn't even have a name, why hunger could never be satisfied with blood, and why pain could never eliminate the sting of the curse.

Duran understood. He realized that what was poisoning Commorragh was Commorragh itself. The Kabals had pushed it onto the path of damnation. For the first time, he felt anger at those evil deeds and sinners. He had not lost his innocence, because he had been condemned from the moment he was born.

Realizing this, he suddenly stood up and roared—

"Vect! Kabals! I will destroy you all!!!!!"