Emperor's Bane

Chapter 65 The Lion ([-])

The hosts of the dead come from hell.

Aliens, tens of thousands of aliens, their tall bodies and ugly faces are the lingering nightmare of countless witnesses, but now, the strange reality of resurrection from the dead makes them even more terrifying.

What the five hundred people saw was a wall of corpses that moved by themselves. The Randan warriors who walked again squeezed each other, and the guns and blades were randomly wrapped with flesh and blood, forming an endless stretch of corpses. The strange army formation, they roared, and rushed towards the place of the dark angel recklessly.

Thousands of bullets hit their bodies, but they were basically useless. The torn internal organs and intestines flowed on the ground, and the rotting brains and broken skulls were exposed to the air through the torn skin. Among them, they still couldn't stop the pace of resurrection from the dead.

Everything is like hell.

Living hell.

And the five hundred people just watched with cold eyes.

It's enough to break the nerves of any mortal, but for these battle-hardened Dark Angels veterans, it's just a matter of swapping afternoon tea muffins for cookies.

It makes no difference.

It can even be said that such hell-like scenes are as numerous as stars in their memories. In terms of the degree of challenge to the limits of human psychology, this situation of tens of thousands of corpses in a small fortress does not even rank in the top [-].

What's more, they have reasons why they can't take a step back.

He is walking between them.

------

lion.

Leon-Jonson.

Primarch of the First Legion.

He walked among the array of dark angels, like a born king of knights.

The greatest Caliban monster killer did not wear his helmet. His long golden hair and beard shone on the blood-red mottled starry sky, dyed with an invisible color of killing, and his pair of pupils were Hidden in the shadows, people can't see clearly.

[Lion] is so tall, even if Morgan is standing on a distant cliff, he can still see his armor and body at a glance, and feel an indescribable feeling of oppression in his heart.

He slowly walked out of the array of dark angels, walked to the front, glanced at the corpses of the reborn who were getting closer, and gave an order.

[Keep suppressing. 】

[Keep cover. 】

[Clear the road. 】

Afterwards, his sword pointed at a fortress in the core area of ​​Randan Fortress.

[Take there as the goal of the first stage. 】

【start to act. 】

He gave an order, and with the order, a silent response swept in. Zhuang Sen took the first step, followed by five hundred people, like a howling army of death.

------

The gears of death began to spin.

Before Morgan's eyes, they were in motion.

[It's like a work of art. 】

She couldn't help but sigh with emotion.

This is the first time that Morgan has truly witnessed the art of war of a Primarch. This is not a manifestation of pure brute force, nor is it a greatness shaped by hands and time. A beautiful movement played by instinct and experience.

She felt that she had witnessed a mountain, and that she would never see a grander one.

Zhuang Sen and his subordinates, five hundred and one fighters, five hundred and one hunters, they merged into one body, they were connected with each other, they turned into a flowing death blade, changing their existence and edge all the time.

Some things do not need to be ordered at all. Facing an opponent who can withstand thousands of explosive bombs, some fighters among the five hundred people spontaneously stepped forward. They are the queues holding incendiary weapons, under the cover of their comrades. , In an instant, a majestic wall of fire was erected.

The dense rain of bombs has also changed from normal to more lonely and deadly cold guns. Morgan is entrenched on the best viewing platform and can see everything clearly: those twisted walking corpses, their The knees and soles of the feet became the hardest-hit areas, and these painless monsters had to kneel under the mighty force of physics. Whenever a burst of intensive gunshots sounded, several monsters would fall down at the same time, and they implicated the team , and finally turned into coke in the raging flames together.

Only some of the luckiest guys can break through this deadly hurdle, and when they kill five hundred people, those blades and bullets that were quite powerful in the past just left traces on the pure black armor Whitescar, and then the Dark Angels, wielding a weapon Morgan had never seen before, sliced ​​the invading foes to pieces.

Every few seconds, it will be staged once.

Morgan estimated that she pulled up tens of thousands of Randan's alien corpses, but in the blink of an eye, they were consumed in sevens and eighties. Although she had no expectations for these worthless things, when she saw Even with the unscathed lineup of five hundred people, they still felt a kind of disappointment similar to frustration.

In this sense of disappointment, Morgan vaguely heard some kind of laughter. It was a strange sound that was completely opposite to the previous distorted laughter and sharp long laughter. It was slow and gentle, exuding a rotten smell. It's like a guest who came late and didn't talk about hygiene.

She turned her head away, urging herself to ignore this.

And when all this happened, she did not forget to pay attention to [Lion].

Yes, [Lion] is the key point, all the five hundred people combined are not as good as a strand of his hair.

As far as she was concerned, that was it.

Morgan stood on the high cliff, carefully watching his brothers fight in the ruins.

An inexplicable emotion appeared in her heart.

The [-] people wiped out the army of tens of thousands of dead in an instant, but during this short but intense process, Zhuang Sen never said a word.

He waved the big sword in his hand, and a whirlwind created by a slash swept across the corridor hundreds of meters away, causing countless stumps and broken arms to fly in the icy air.

His steps were firm and unshakable, no matter whether it was the hordes of corpses or the giant beasts that swelled to the size of dangerous buildings, none of them made his steps stop in the slightest.

He didn't give any more orders, and he didn't speak any more. He just moved forward, just swung his sword, and just became the irreplaceable leader among the massacres. The array of dark angels was ever-changing, but they never deviated from his direction, as if they Not an army, but Lion-Jonson and his monstrous shadow.

Morgan watched it all until the last consumable fell to the floor before she took a deep breath.

Everything, maybe only ten minutes, but enough to leave a hard mark in her heart.

It's a different feeling.

She watched [Lion] and his shadow slowly stop beside the fortress, and in front of them was the staircase that Morgan hadn't finished walking.

The dying Warmaster [Randan] is inside.

Morgan could even hear the terrible roar of the once great soul under her "ripening", which became more and more terrible like a wild beast.

But Morgan didn't care, she just looked at him, raptly, at [Lion] himself.

That strange feeling began to burn in my heart.

He is not like them.

He is not like Magnus, nor is he like Perturabo, he does not have their clamor, nor their over-exuberant desire to perform, he locks himself in the hood and shadow, and is truly taciturn .

Compared with him, Magnus is too noisy, like a crazy poet who is destined to be thrown into the death row by a ruthless tyrant, singing loudly illogical prophecies, admiring himself, thinking that the world Everyone is drunk and I am alone.

Compared with him, Perturabo is really too hesitant, like a piece of pig iron that has been placed for too long, is irreparably showing red rust, but is still rushing towards destruction again and again in unwillingness and complaints The melting pot, firmly believes that he is the indestructible real steel.

Thoughts like these swirled in Morgan's mind, but she tilted her head slightly, but she was immersed in another completely different thought.

That was what was burning in her chest.

It was a... familiar feeling.

A strange aura that she didn't notice in Magnus and Perturabo.

She didn't hate it, on the contrary, she felt a warm current quite rarely.

She watched the silent army gather again, and once again stood behind the [Lion]. She watched the Caliban knights with long golden hair raise their heads. After glancing at the direction Morgan was in, he put all his energy on the fortress.

She watched those dark angels gradually spread out to seize the last commanding heights and passes in the ruins. They were like scattered water droplets, torn apart, but they could reunite into an intimate group anytime and anywhere. She even captured A figure, he quickly broke away from the team of five hundred people, and ran through the ruins for a unique mission.

After doing all this, Zhuang Sen stretched his wrist, and he listened to the increasingly savage roar from the fortress, and walked in.

It was also at this moment that Morgan moved, and she patted Hector, who was as quiet as a chicken, to ensure that her poor son had completely forgotten what she just said.

It's good for him.

Thinking of this, she separated another ray of consciousness, and surveyed that poor Ran Dan [Warmaster].

After just a glance, she took it back uncomfortably.

The [ripening] performed by tens of thousands of souls seemed wilder than she had imagined.

The current state of the alien commander is even pitiful. It could have been in a frantic death struggle, but the horror collection of the dark angels and the interstellar war drained its last ounce of energy. When Morgan's When the method roared, it no longer had the power to confront it.

How sad.

Morgan couldn't help drooling regretfully.

She turned around, took Hector, walked down the high cliff, and walked towards the broken battlefield.

It's time to eat.

(End of this chapter)