The Emperor’s Angel of Death

However, even with such powerful warships like the Nether-Abyss Manticore class, the Dynasty constructed 8 of them in less than four years. This level of productivity left Sosiant completely stunned. After all, no matter how slender they are, their volume is considerable. In contrast, the Abyss class, even with the aid of the Void Mirror Shipyard, took nearly thirty years to build. Could one Abyss-class ship defeat eight Nether-Abyss Manticore-class ships? Sosiant was not optimistic. Even tasking a Forge World to produce eight large cruisers in a few years would be a stretch, and these weren't the only new ships being built. The Bonesingers and Warp-smiths also "incidentally" constructed over fifty smaller and medium-sized warships.

Looking at the brand-new warships and the Master Bonesingers who could single-handedly sing a warship's keel into existence, and thinking about the shipyards in the Forge Worlds crammed with hundreds of thousands of people and servitors, Sosiant felt very, well...

After handling a pile of matters, Sosiant also took a look at the "transfer process" of a certain unlucky fellow, a gift from the Dynasty to the Lord of the Iron Thorns' cabal—

"Fuck you! You pointy-eared dogs, just kill me if you want!"

On a heavy metal rack, an Astartes, stripped of his armor, revealing gruesome scars and taut muscles, was bound hand and foot in a spread-eagle position. Because parts of his armor had grown into his body, the violent removal left many horrific wounds on his torso. The mark of the Blood God was branded on his chest, but now a ridiculous monkey face was drawn over it with a sharp instrument. Faced with this humiliation, the former Champion of Khorne could only froth at the mouth and curse wildly.

Charon, standing on a Raider gunship, winked at the roaring, cursing Champion of Khorne and laughed:

"Red monkey, keep making a fuss. It will only make it more pleasurable for me when you beg for mercy."

"Beg for mercy? I'll beg your mother! I'll fuck your arse!"

Then four Haemonculus' Flesh Sculpt slaves walked over with smiles, grabbed the four corners of the metal rack, and lifted it onto the gunship.

"Waaaaah! I... I'll kill you... I'll kill you all!"

As a veteran of the Long War, he naturally knew what Commorragh was. Thinking that he had been fantasizing about ascension to daemonhood not long ago, but now he would meet such an undignified end, the Butcher's Nails in his brain were already going crazy.

"Ah, speaking of that, I heard the Obsidian Arena just received a batch of furry beasts who like to use tentacles to drill arses, and they'll bring you unexpected surprises!"

"You warp-spawned pointy-ears, get out! I'll fucking kill you all!"

"Hehehe—"

As the Raider gunship slowly entered the webway gate, only the Champion of Khorne's final desperate roar remained.

"Blood God, save meeeeee!!!!!!!"

"That guy was screaming miserably at the time."

In a garden filled with birdsong, fragrant flowers, and flowing streams, accompanied by the pleasant sound of music like pearls falling on a jade plate, Sosiant smiled as he described the scene he had just witnessed to Veronica, who was sitting in his lap. Veronica was wearing a pale pink, narrow-sleeved, tight-waisted long dress, its texture as soft as smoke, truly wrapped in fragrant snow, giving a synesthetic sensation of lightness and warmth. Her exposed fragrant shoulders were adorned with flowers, her hair was styled into a low bun, and a gold crown, shaped like a phoenix, sat atop her bun. A heart-shaped red gemstone hung on her forehead. Exquisite jewelry and tassel-style hairpins adorned both sides of the crown, her ears, and her neck. The skirt below her waist was made of three materials: voidsilk, Arachne star gauze with vertical reflective gold threads, and spirit gauze offered by the Craftworld of Vahnta-Ghon. The three types of gauze were visually distinguishable and layered, so one could imagine how dazzling they would be in motion.

The slender dragon form of Bandaram lazily lay in a flower field not far away, while a group of Oreti were busy using their tentacles to trim the surrounding flowers and plants.

"I thought the followers of Khorne were all truly fearless and undying. Turns out they also have things they fear."

Veronica covered her mouth and giggled, saying:

"It's good to have bad people to deal with bad people. I think it would be good to keep a few Flesh Sculpt slaves in the future. Only then will we have a way to deal with these Chaos Space Marines when we catch them."

"They're all bad things and should be eradicated together. We shouldn't keep the so-called necessary evil just to deal with some kind of evil. A large part of the problems the Imperium faces today stem from the Emperor leaving behind too much so-called necessary evil."

"You always talk about that Emperor. Whatever you decide is fine."

As she spoke, Veronica picked up the delicate wine glass on the small red square table in front of Sosiant, raised it, and brought it to his lips. Sosiant lowered his head slightly and drank the wine in the glass.

The matters on the Dynasty's side had been temporarily dealt with, but he still stayed for two more days just to spend time with Veronica. In the past, the two of them had been inseparable, but since truly becoming husband and wife, they had been spending less time together. Although there were now many ways to quickly return to the Dynasty, Sosiant, burdened with all kinds of affairs, didn't always have the opportunity to run back and forth.

He had always felt indebted to Veronica, so he agreed when she asked him to stay a little longer, taking a short rest in the haven called home.

Besides, would this galaxy, this Imperium, really stop turning without him?

Just as Sosiant and Veronica were enjoying their rare moment of warmth, a gentle and melodious song, carrying the ancient flavor and tunes of the Aeldari Empire, flowed out like a clear spring, surrounding them.

Lovers' infatuation on the yellow sand path~

Whispering sweet nothings under the white moon~

Alas, fate plays tricks~

Separated by destiny like drifting catkins~

The initial taste has long been forgotten~

Suddenly looking back, fallen flowers become poetry~

I want to ask you, but I can't say it~

Until the time of farewell at dusk, there is no return~

Sosiant looked at the performer and singer, a graceful figure sitting on a stone bench next to a large tree full of pink flowers, a dozen meters in front of them.

Lilith youth Luvia Greta, although her age was similar to Veronica's, the two of them were now like mother and daughter, basically inseparable. Sosiant felt a little strange. Logically speaking, they should be friends or sisters, but Luvia Greta's attitude towards Veronica was more like that of a daughter. So, in addition to combing Veronica's hair, she was also Veronica's personal musician, and her musical talent was indeed very impressive. No matter how complex the ancient melody was, she could quickly learn and master it.

But today, Luvia Greta's attire was a bit different. Her silver-white hair was gently tied up, secured behind her head with an openwork moon-shaped hairpin. A small flower carved from a milky-white gemstone adorned the left side of her hair. The petals gently falling from the tree and the faint, hazy starlight glittered on her hair, making it seem as if it had been sprinkled with silver powder, bright and dazzling. Combined with her lowered starry eyes, pink lips, and delicate nose, her pure and rational temperament seemed to overflow from the depths of her body.

A necklace made of jade-colored circular gemstones adorned her slender, fair swan neck. She wore a dark cyan, high-slit robe with green leaves and flower patterns. The hollowed-out shoulders revealed her snow-white, delicate skin. A decoration representing Lilith's moon hung on her slender waist, which was tightly embraced by the fabric. Beneath the skirt, which was slit to the waist, her long legs, like white jade, pressed tightly together and angled to the left. A unique stringed instrument rested on her knees, and her slender fingers gracefully plucked the five strings. The elegant and noble demeanor was like that of a lost princess, and at the end of her legs, a pair of crystal high heels with small flower petals pinned on them, and a clear view of the white, reddish instep.