The Emperor’s Angel of Death

After mocking those who had been verbally insulting him, Yixi abruptly twisted his wrist. Amidst Ci Song's unwilling screams, the spear spun forward, taking him down.

Now, only one person remained standing on the bridge. He leisurely collected the blood-stained silver badges from the corpses, then headed towards the Gate of Cixin, which represented endless possibilities.

"This batch of candidates looks promising."

Dozens of blood-soaked candidates already stood on the platform of the Gate of Cixin. Above them, on the floating suspended platform, stood several figures in power armor, draped with red capes over their armor. They held gold-inlaid black rods in their hands, adorned with scriptures, jewels, and decorations, mostly bizarre symbols and demon totems. The two at the front were chatting casually, one with a white, feline-like demon pet at his feet.

"Not bad. That slave named Yixi has talent, skill, and patience. I think he can be classified as superior."

As he spoke, the one with the pet at his feet took out a delicate device from his pocket, took a puff, and exhaled a cloud of white smoke.

The person next to him waved dismissively and said:

"Danzeng, you're secretly smoking that again? You were secretly smoking it during the last ritual, and the Heart-Eating King punished you with five days of confinement. Is the addiction that strong?"

"Cough, it's a habit, a habit. Just pretend you didn't see it."

Smiling, he stuffed the device back into his pocket and looked around.

"What is Kanbu busy with today? Logically, this is a major selection, not a minor one, and he would come to see it in person."

"The master seems to be receiving a distinguished guest today."

"A distinguished guest? Oh, I remember. I heard a fleet arrived, from the Third Legion, I think?"

"Ah, just knowing is enough. Don't talk nonsense."

"What are they doing here? Aren't they arrogant? The...Singular Chorus that we eliminated before seemed to be from the Third Legion, a bunch of nonsensical noise warriors, easily crushed."

"How am I supposed to answer that? Besides, the Third Legion has long been fragmented. They're the only ones who take themselves seriously. If the Primarch hadn't intervened, they wouldn't even be able to gather together."

"You mean these people were sent by a Primarch?"

"Tsk, you talk too much. I'm just saying. Alright, alright, everyone's almost here. Time to count the badges."

"Oh."

Meanwhile, in the opulent and decadent main hall of the Black Heaven Palace, a grand revelry was in full swing.

Graceful yet clawed and hoofed slender figures moved among silk tents, holding aloft platters filled with the hearts of infants who had never spoken. On either side of the hall, figures were impaled and twisted on spiraling spires, their painful screams forming a horrifying symphony.

On the performance stage in mid-air, three androgynous performers, clad only in light纱, were slicing each other into pieces with needlesharp blades. Below them, a crystal fountain spewed out mist filled with broken crystal shards.

At the end of the hall was a towering platform, concealed by layers of curtains, vaguely revealing a majestic figure sitting like a god. Behind the platform, a huge curtain depicted two skeletons adorned with jewels and colorful streamers embracing intimately as if dancing in an alluring image.

A circle of people stood around the platform, mostly dressed as Phantom Warriors, but some maintained their own distinct attire, such as Bloodwolf and Amon.

"Welcome, Lord Heffren, emissary from the Third Legion."

With the long voice of a highranking legionary holding a golden skull staff, a proud warrior with purplishpink armor and snowwhite hair entered the hall.

Upon entering, Heffren's nose twitched instinctively. A pure sensory stimulation entered his nostrils, an intoxicating, seething madness almost strong enough to blur his vision.

Then he looked at the high platform, muttering to himself:

"What an arrogant bastard, not even coming out to greet me in person."

But at the same time, he bowed with a humble expression, his hand on his chest.

"Great HeartEating King, thank you very much for your welcoming ceremony. I am deeply honored."

But the other party did not respond, still using someone else to speak.

"The HeartEating King respects every old legion that once resisted the False Emperor, just as he respects the Supreme Heaven. We have the same goals, the same opponents, and should naturally be friends."

"Of course, Lord Eidolon also shares this sentiment. The Phantom Legion has become a force to be reckoned with. If the two sides can work together."

"Soshyan is not easy to deal with."

But the spokesperson interrupted him directly.

"You have fought against him, more than once. The Undefeated has also failed. Everyone knows the strength of the Eleventh Legion. Before there is absolute certainty of victory, taking action is just asking for trouble."

Heffren then cut to the chase.

"Lord Eidolon has formulated a plan. Now the strength of the Eleventh Legion is being held back by the Tyranids on the edge of the Tempest Zone. We can take the opportunity to destroy his rear. If the two sides join forces, we will hold back his other forces, and you will directly attack the Nason System. As long as his home is razed to the ground, it will be a heavy blow to the Eleventh Legion!"

This time, the spokesperson did not speak, but a deep voice with a sneer came from behind the curtain.

"Does Eidolon think I don't know? Soshyan is the Phoenix Lord. How long can you hold back the Eternal Court? If you suddenly retreat when we attack the Nason System, then we will be exposed to the Aeldari's blades. Third Legion...This is not the first time you have done this, nor will it be the last. What you did during the Siege of Terra is well known even in the Eye of Terror."

"Oh, if you are so worried, then we can switch. You hold back the Eternal Court, and we attack the Nason System."

"Hmm, it seems Eidolon is a little impatient, but I think—"

Suddenly, the entire palace shook slightly, and everyone exclaimed in surprise. The curtains also billowed suddenly, as if a strong current of air was passing through.

Then came Garmonbozia's angry growl.

"Who is it!"

At this moment, a staggering figure ran in and knelt on the ground.

"My lord! Attack! The orbit is under attack!"

Everyone's faces changed abruptly, and they looked at Heffren, some even drawing their weapons, while Heffren looked astonished.

"What? Who attacked who!?"

At this moment, two huge crystal screens were hung from the dome. Then, after a period of disturbance, a blurry picture appeared. In the dark depths of space, strange green lights flickered. A strangely shaped fleet, like ghosts crawling out of a tomb, looked so abrupt against the backdrop of the planet. They were all crescent-shaped, and the most conspicuous was an incredibly huge warship. It constantly emitted dazzling spots of light and arcs of electricity, and the huge orbital space station was torn apart in the arcs of electricity, constantly causing explosions. As for those fleets, they were like schools of frightened fish, desperately trying to escape death.

"Necrons!!!!!!!!"

Garmonbozia's angry roar shook the entire mountain range.