The Emperor’s Angel of Death

After the first contact with the Spirit Fleet, under the control of the navigator, the Curse Echo flees over and over again.

Two days after its first emergency leap, the Echo of the Curse drove back to the real void, only to find a group of psychic cruisers hanging quietly waiting near the asteroid belt.

The curse echo can only bend again, avoiding the enemy's fire path with a twisted arc.

It rolls and dives, rushing out of the material world and entering a relatively safe subspace.

Three days later, it separated from the interstellar travel and drifted toward the center of the storm star field, only to find that five spirit cruisers were already flying around the course.

When the Echo of the Curse approached, the alien spacecraft adjusted the angle of its sails and got out of orbit to intercept the Eighth Army battleship.

They had to run away again.

When it left the subspace for the third time, it did not slow down due to the blockade of the spirit race.

The curse echoes surging in the icy tides of real space, the ship's side sings in the dark, while screaming while spitting fragrance at the alien spaceship.

In the process, small-scale battles broke out. The spirit warships that had been shattered by the pulse of the Eighth Army’s weapons smashed their solar sails, leaning and turning with incredible grace.

The Echo of the Curse won a battle it could not win, and concentrated all the retaliatory firepower to trap the alien warships in the asteroid belt for long enough, forcing them to return to the subspace.

But after that, the fourth, fifth, sixth, and every successive appearance encountered a stronger resistance, and at the same time they flew farther and farther away from their scheduled route.

"They drove us like grazing!"

Cyrion said when he returned to physical space for the eighth time, Talos just nodded.

"I know."

"We can't get to the Great Eye, brother, they won't let us go, you know this beforehand, don't you?"

"I know."

"No wonder you are so tough to change course."

One week passed safely, and then the second week they also stumbling over, but in the third week...

The echo of the curse broke the crazy cloud once again. It rode purple lightning and agate smoke all the way back to the material world. This time it did not stay for a short time and then entered the cracks in the subspace, nor stopped to collect their position and Scan the enemy.

This time, the curse echo returned to reality and continued to accelerate, and the engine made a fiery horn.

The battleship traveled all the way in the psychedelic colors of the nebula, deep into the huge gas cloud.

Talos ordered the engine to continue roaring, pushing forward at the limit speed.

"There is no spirit race."

Cyrion looked at the scanner again.

Talos said immediately:

"Go ahead at full speed and bury the ship in the nebula as far as possible."

When the attendants started chattering, the head of the gate suddenly screamed.

"Master Talos, urgently—"

"The scanner is disturbed."

Talos interrupted him calmly.

"That's why we are here, I know, Chief Director."

Today, the first fierce claws gathered around the central throne to spend the night with their leader. The surviving Midnight Lords walked to the command deck one by one, and they looked up at the eye monitor and watched silently.

The continuous pursuit of the spirit race made everyone's spirits highly nervous.

Several hours passed.

Talos occasionally kept his eyes away from the stars and glanced at the tactical hologram.

For a long time, the holographic projection showed only stars and a gas planet rotating in the void, but nothing else.

"How long?"

Talos asked.

"Four hours."

Markushen walked past the bow weapon console and looked down over the shoulders of the seven uniformed officers stationed there.

"Four hours and thirty-seven minutes."

"It's the longest one so far."

"so far.

The prophet was sitting on the gorgeous command chair, leaning forward, the blood angel's golden sword on one arm of the throne, and his own blaster on the other arm.

This is a huge platform made of heavy black bronze, and the throne itself extends from the central podium, overlooking the rest of the command deck.

Talos has always known that most people above the top are in such a mentality-to be above his compatriots in the blood contract.

But the Prophet didn't think so.

If there is any difference, it is that he feels separated from his relatives, and this feeling is uncomfortable.

"I believe we are safe."

Cyrion said tentatively.

"Don't say that."

Talos shook his head and answered.

"Don't even think about it."

Cyrion listened to the sound of the podium, which had its own unique melody: the rubbing of levers, the whispering of servants, the thumping of boots.

"You should take a break."

He then said to Talos.

"When was the last time you went to bed?"

"I do not remember."

"Are you kidding me."

The night lord looked shocked.

Talos turned to Cyrion, his pale face taut, and his black eyes dulled by insomnia.

"Do I seem to be joking?"

"No, you look like you are dead and you forgot to stop exercising. It's been three weeks now. You're so stupid, Talos... Go, rest, there's me here."

The Prophet turned to the eyeball display again.

"Thanks, not now, unless we run away."

"What if I call the skinner to teach you a lesson?"

"Valier has already told me about this."

Talos sighed regretfully.

"He has charts and everything. He even wrote down the stress in my head in great detail and cited a lot of examples, such as the movement restrictions that would result from not letting a soldier sleep for two weeks."

"Very good physiology lecture, I sometimes think he forgot that your first sutra was a pharmacist."

Talos did not answer, he kept staring at the stars on the eye monitor.

three weeks.

The Prophet thought, since the endless chase began, he has never slept again, and the spirit race disappeared from the void a few hours after he killed the Star Whisperer.

How many times have they entered and exited in the subspace since then?

How many times have they returned to real space only to find that another fleet of spirits is waiting for them?

three weeks.

"We can't keep running, Cyrion, Ottavia will die if this goes on, we will be trapped, and we will die in the end."

Cyrion looked up at the remains of Ruben nailed to the cross.

"You killed the wizard~www.ltnovel.com~ I almost regret it. His power should be a blessing now."

Talos turned his weary gaze to his brother, and there was something like amusement gleaming in the depths of the darkness.

"Perhaps it is, but then we have to endure his endless conversation."

"well said."

As soon as he finished saying this, the sirens sounded on the deck, and everyone was united, and the deck was "joy".

"Goddamn pointy ears!"

"They found us."

Amid Cyrion’s curse, Talos leaned weakly on the back of his chair, and his voice was now a weary whisper.

"Yes, they found us again..."

Then he pressed the button of the communicator

"Ottavia, I'm Talos,"