The Emperor’s Angel of Death

#2863 - Killing the "worm" with a borrowed knife

Chapter 2867: Borrowing a Knife to Kill the "Bug"

After Malakin led the fleet away from Venosi III, all that remained for Sochoyan was to intensify the construction of fortifications and await the arrival of the Tyranid fleet.

Time was of the essence, especially since this planet lacked industry. Simply raising and thickening the Snow Palace's protective walls, and adding a second layer, was difficult to complete in a short time, given the extreme construction challenges posed by the towering mountains.

In this situation, to buy more time, Sochoyan decided to take another gamble.

In the lavish gardens of the Bone Court, a grand banquet was in full swing. Graceful figures moved among the silk tents, holding platters piled high with spicy fang-beast hearts. Robed singers sang behind the curtains, their voices blending into a harmonious melody.

At the center of the banquet, two duelists were trying to cut each other to pieces with their blades. They were both powerful and agile warriors, moving as fast as lightning and attacking as fiercely as a storm.

Bone Lord Valgul reclined on a cushion, sighing as he surveyed the scene of prosperity.

Then, he stuffed a handful of candied pistachios into his mouth, the sugar balls soaked in a mixture of honey and wine, filled with an eyeball harvested from a tailless ape.

A warm sensation was released as the fruit burst in his mouth.

“Tasteless garbage.”

Valgul hissed a moment later, spitting out the words along with fragments, causing a series of eager expressions in the small circle surrounding him.

Whenever the master felt bored, it meant a wild hunt was about to begin.

“The Crimson God has not responded for a long time!”

He muttered to himself:

“Have I disappointed Him… Perhaps I should prepare a more advanced offering.”

Suddenly, a clear and steady voice rang out.

“I do indeed need a more advanced offering.”

Accompanied by swirling red mist, all the Flayed One nobles at the banquet knelt down. Valgul also jumped up from the cushion and knelt on one knee.

“My Lord! Master of Blood and Death, your loyal servant Valgul awaits your command!”

The red mist quickly coalesced, and when it landed, Sochoyan, wearing red and black flesh armor, appeared before Valgul.

In Sochoyan's view, this place was still so dirty and corrupt, full of bones, skin, and tissue fragments. There was even a group of hunchbacked Flayers using bones as instruments, making strange and unpleasant sounds.

But now this was the power he could conveniently use.

“My Bone Lord, sound the horns, beat the drums, raise the banners! I will lead you on a great hunt!”

The scarlet light in Valgul's eye sockets instantly expanded several times, and he excitedly said:

“This is the highest honor!”

Then he stood up and turned around.

“Herald! Didn't you hear the master's words! Sound the horns, beat the drums, raise the banners!”

Soon, a strange metallic horn sound echoed through the tombs of the Flayed Dynasty. Countless Flayers emerged from the shadows. In Valgul's eyes, they were countless soldiers holding spears and shields with serious expressions. Then came the dynasty's chariot troops. Those ghost arks covered in dust and decay slowly rose from the gloomy tombs, controlled by twisted Flayers whose bodies had merged with the arks. These chariot drivers would be the most insane and deadly.

In addition to infantry, the dynasty also had a huge “war beast” force, metal constructs flashing with crazy red lights, such as wraith spiders and tomb stalkers. Their original bit of autonomous will had completely fallen with the madness of the dynasty's rulers, but they were still controlled to some extent.

The Flayed Dynasty was crazy in every way, but from another perspective, it was extremely normal and orderly, only this order was difficult for rational minds to understand.

Sochoyan didn't really want to understand this almost hysterical thing, but there was no way. This dynasty was, in a sense, created by him.

He had to lead the team he put together, even with tears in his eyes.

At this moment, Valgul cautiously walked to Sochoyan's side, his huge body seemingly trying to shrink into a ball, making himself as short as possible compared to Sochoyan, and then cautiously asked:

“My Lord, is it the arrogant Imotekh we are going to conquer this time, or the ignorant usurper Ahhotek? Or the miserly Krispekh? I am willing to personally lead the army to present the many treasures of the Nysshak Dynasty to the master!”

Sochoyan smiled slightly and shook his head.

“Neither.”

“Then…”

“This time, we go dragon slaying.”

“Dragon slaying…?”

“It is an evil force from the dark outer regions, a greedy dragon that seeks to devour everything. I need to weaken it before this force becomes a threat. This time, the dynasty will hunt the servants of the greedy dragon. Their flesh is also a delicious delicacy.”

Valgul immediately became excited and summoned a servant to bring his double-bladed scepter inlaid with metal skulls. He didn't care what the enemy was, he only craved battle, to fight and slaughter in the name of the Crimson God.

This was the only thing that could make his metal body “boil.”

“My Lord, please entrust it to me! Your loyal servant will kill all enemies for you!”

Sochoyan nodded slightly, then looked up at the rising giant ship.

“This time, we don't need warships. Go directly to the battlefield through the Crimson Temple.”

With that, he turned and raised his right arm, clenching his palm suddenly. A huge red vortex appeared out of thin air in the square of the tomb world, large enough for a warship to pass through.

At this time, a uniquely shaped command boat also slowly landed. Its original living metal shell was covered with skulls of different races and sizes. Fresh, bloody skin fluttered around it like colorful flags. Its appearance was like a huge scorpion, with a wide command position below its raised tail. The emerald green venomous hook was an enhanced lightning cannon. Its drivers were fourteen linked technician heads, their bodies below the neck completely replaced by cables. They occasionally turned their heads and opened their jaws, as if the desperate souls bound to the command boat were wailing.

“Departure! Advance!”

Just as Valgul boarded his bone chariot and began to issue orders, Sochoyan also turned into a cloud of red mist and came to a towering obelisk in the square.

Looking down, the scene was even more shocking. Tens of thousands of Flayers, like a blasphemous flood, poured into the opened crimson vortex in a chaotic but orderly manner, in loose formations, as if they were truly an army on the attack, creating a strange sense of absurdity.

Sochoyan even wondered if he also had a bit of Flayer consciousness?

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