The Emperor’s Angel of Death

As the Immortals and Warriors slaughtered the Flayed Ones, various aerial vehicles began to circle and fire in the sky, turning their former brethren into smoking wreckage.

"Kill all these infected beasts! They are a tumor on our great race!"

Protected by the Lychguard, Hadhrak directed the slaughter with a cruel smile, grateful for a bit of amusement to break the monotony of travel.

However, things were not so simple. The first to react was the Destroyer Lord Morsen, who, lacking much interest in destroying inorganic matter, had been somewhat 'slacking' in his attacks. This allowed him to immediately notice the anomaly behind them, and he immediately signaled a warning and ordered the Destroyer phalanx to turn around.

The hum of the anti-gravity chassis abruptly turned into a shriek as the Destroyer Lord ascended to a hundred meters, then the massive annihilation weapon in his hand unleashed emerald lightning, weaving a net of disintegration beams that could obliterate even huge rocks in an instant.

It was then that Hadhrak noticed that the road behind them was occupied by a mass of howling 'Ghouls,' a grotesque wall of flesh—rusted metal encased in rotting flesh, with crimson light seeping through.

This greatly shocked the Crowned General, as it confirmed something he had long suspected but only now had proof of—

These Flayed Ones were being commanded! They had a commander!

After all, even planning the most basic ambush and flanking maneuver required a mind that retained some semblance of reason.

But what could command these utterly insane monsters?

Was it related to the Dynasty's lost treasures?

If something could command the Flayed Ones, it would be a very big deal, as the Flayed Ones were a source of great headache and even fear for dynasties of all sizes. Controlling them would mean being able to threaten the dynasties, even...

Control the dynasties!

Hadhrak was jolted by this possible conjecture and ambition.

While he was preoccupied, his subroutines had already adjusted the formation. Ghost Arks and constructs swiftly turned to face the rear, joining the Destroyers in blocking the oncoming Flayed Ones. Fierce firepower evaporated swathes of the corrupted flesh tide, scouring their false shells, revealing their mottled interiors, and crushing them completely.

Although he had arranged such a 'tactic,' it was too elementary for Hadhrak, posing no real threat.

But he soon realized that the real threat was not the Flayed Ones.

"What!"

Sensing the energy signature from afar, the Crowned General looked towards the outpost and saw the Tomb Spyders plummeting en masse, as an energy vortex gathered.

"Damn! The thief is escaping!"

Realizing that this was merely a delaying tactic, Hadhrak knew he couldn't continue to be entangled.

But the number of Flayed Ones continued to increase, pinning the infantry phalanx in place.

"Morsen, come with me! All Tomb Blades, Lychguard, get on the Ghost Arks!"

Fortunately, the biggest limitation of the Flayed Ones was their inability to fly. Hadhrak gritted his teeth, abandoning the phalanx in place to his subordinates while he took his guard, the Destroyer Lord, and all the aerial vehicles to 'catch the thief!'

Of course, he forgot his earlier vow to not say a word to the Destroyer Lord, temporarily.

Soon, he sped past the still-raging battlefield, heading straight for the outpost already enveloped in green light.

Then they witnessed the horror within.

This place, once filled with Adeptus Mechanicus guards and Tech-Priests, was now a slaughterhouse, the carnage so brutal that it perfectly embodied the word 'madness.'

The Mechanicum turrets in the outpost were now burning wrecks of their former selves, all six defensive spires collapsed, the crumbling buildings exposing their internal structures and the hellish scene within. The former command center had become a butcher's rack draped with flayed flesh.

The true horror was spread across the open ground of the outpost, a layer of terrible, foul-smelling red cloak covering the entire structure. Masses of flesh-draped things wandered about, scavenging something from the dead, dragging corpses around. Their actions seemed random, but within their erratic movements lay intention and purpose. Rows of corpses were piled into walls, entrails were carved into channels, as if the entire landscape of slaughter had been sculpted into a specific shape or ritual.

Hadhrak immediately erased this ever-growing image from his mind. For the sake of his sanity, he didn't have the courage to analyze this scene further. Whether the Flayer curse could be transmitted through sight was something the Tech-Adepts had yet to determine, but he didn't want to try.

And the only place not contaminated by flesh was the location of an ugly aircraft, obviously a crude creation of lesser beings, but it now had some differences. The fuselage and wings had been modified, the engines seemingly altered, illuminated by weak emerald beams. A Canoptek Spider was weaving a cocoon of metal threads around some damaged parts, and a figure stood on its back.

Without needing to ask, Hadhrak knew what that was.

"Damn thief!!!"

Hadhrak roared and urged his command barge to charge forward, while the Tech-Priest who had stolen the Dynasty's treasure, a remnant of the Higher Technician Academies, suddenly turned around.

"Return the Dynasty's property! I will grant you a less cruel death! Otherwise, eternal torment awaits you!"

But the opponent merely gave a contemptuous laugh, then ordered his Canoptek Spider to abandon the aircraft and plunge into a nearby metal building.

"Argh! Damn it! Kill!"

Hadhrak, in a fit of rage, manipulated the command turret to fire at the opponent, but only managed to blast a few holes in the building.

"Clear this place! I will personally drag her out!"

The enraged Hadhrak jumped down from the command barge, and three monsters immediately erupted from the surrounding flesh, engaging in purely savage combat. The Crowned General swept them aside with the haft of his warscythe, tearing them apart with ferocious battle techniques, the blade constantly striking, piercing faces, piercing ribs, passing through the reactor gases released by the fallen enemies.

At the same time, his guards disembarked from the Ghost Arks, following their master, while the Ghost Arks and Tomb Blades concentrated their fire on the running Flayed Ones, killing them.

But more shambling figures burst from the mountains of corpses, tearing themselves out of the piles of entrails, and began to flock towards their still-sane brethren.

Their actions released only one signal—death was approaching, and no one could escape.

The Destroyer Lord in mid-air emitted a hollow, piercing static shriek, unleashing his fury on the nearest Flayed Ones. The immense gauss energy sprayed out in a fan shape, instantly annihilating a dozen Flayed Ones, causing the Destroyer Lord to let out a rare burst of maniacal laughter.