Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 416 Everyone has their own Medusa

"Stop! You have once again chosen to flee without honor! You dare not even face the fate you deserve for what you have done! You coward! A coward! A betrayer! A lowly scum! A rat in the gutter!"

The shining silver figure shouted indignantly as he watched the figure begin to disappear into the shadows of the rear room and the sunken storage deck. The speed and power of the saber in his hand did not diminish at all because he was breathing out. His anger began to shift to any remaining living people in the room as he gradually lost his target.

What was annoying was that what prevented him from capturing the traitor was not his lack of strength, but the small space and too many "living people".

For example, the creatures that were rushing towards him desperately from all directions - those cyborgs, big and small, who were loyal to Fabius, howling Bile's name vaguely and rushing towards Fulgrim Ishtar. Some even deliberately put their strongest bones under his blade, so that the moment when their muscles and bones were separated by the saber and their internal organs were splashed like overturned paint cans would be slightly prolonged, because this could buy their benefactor half a second to escape.

"What kind of benefits did he promise you to make you work so hard for him?! What the hell are you!! Get out of here! Anyone who stands in my way of revenge will be killed by me!!"

Even with the height of such a huge and bloated Iron Knight Terminator, it was just like a short man seeing an ordinary human in front of the fully upright body of this mysterious mechanical giant.

And when "he" used his blade burning with platinum flames to chop open the Nurgling raised by the Death Guard Apothecary, the way it sizzled and burned its Warp essence instead of simply destroying it made Horrag Singe clearly have a hint of uncertainty and hesitation in his shock and anger when he drew his scythe to resist "him".

Could this kind of power come from...

If the power was possessed by the corpse on Terra, then it would be too targeted at him and his friends. Horrag had dissected and observed enough biological materials to know this very well. He even knew how he would collapse immediately if he lost the care of his loving father. The possibility of such consequences immediately made him begin to waver.

After all, this former gravekeeper had abandoned his brother as well as Mortarion and Typhons without hesitation, and came here, embarking on a path leading to the abyss just to pursue the skills of apothecary. This was his goal, and he would never sacrifice his life for anyone other than this goal.

In his opinion, the Son of Horus was reckless and the World-Devourer lacked wisdom, so talents like himself should be carefully preserved to ensure their usefulness.

Also, once betrayal happens for the first time, it is no longer an iron rule that cannot be broken.

So in the end, amid the shrill screams of the Nurglings, the Death Guard still took a step back, tightly grasped the remnants of the struggling and twisting demon under the blade, rescued his little friend, and then made room on his side.

This obvious act of letting the enemy off the hook caused him to be attacked by several gland hounds and dissatisfied jar creatures. Soon the former gravekeeper had no time to spare and moved towards the door waving his sickle and pistol and joined the melee.

——————And still lying on the cold floor of the pharmacist's laboratory, which emitted an indelible stench of blood and flesh, curled up because of the aftermath of pain, and trying to open his eyes wide because of some kind of induction, watching everything happening in front of him, was the Word Bearers Apostle Sakara.

Although he knew that his life was tightly bound to Fabius Bile, and even if his hatred was so strong and his power was strictly suppressed by those damn implants and control nodes, he should at least struggle for his physical existence. But he had no intention of fighting against the Adventer in front of him.

Just because he was the person who had the deepest, most thorough and most devout research on the warp arts and demonology here, Sakara thought he could see through "his" nature at a glance.

Oh, Dust of Colchis, look at him, look at such vigorous and magnificent strength and size, which are definitely not of this world!
The distinct and unique power of "his" soul formed a flaming phoenix with its head held high and roaring, burning all over its body in a place invisible to human eyes. This incomparable shadow is now only reflected in the amber irises of the Word Bearers Apostle, and only his eyes, which have gazed at countless things in the Warp, can see it!
It's really ridiculous. Look at the metal body of this god. When the Iron Hands created "him", they were undoubtedly praying with piety, purity, but with dark emotions. However, this group of ignorant corpse king worshippers have no idea what they are sacrificing or summoning. Their only contribution is to offer themselves as sacrifices! Fabius Bile, based on his own experience, shouted out the name that this thing once had, thinking that it was the gene father who had dedicated himself to their favor and protection.

Oh, you are all fools, fools, and fools! You always think that the Warp is an unfounded fantasy! The Ocean of the High Sky is real! So are the creatures in it! So are the gods! Based on the secret knowledge that Sakara and his primarchs and brothers have studied in the Eye of Terror for thousands of years, he secretly rejoiced and showed a trace of triumph on his face twisted with pain.

In the eyes of demon apostles, gods and demons are strictly distinguished, and they do not make no distinction as outsiders think. Demons can be enslaved, summoned, countered and dissipated. Anyone who knows the real name of a demon can effectively control and kill it. This is an iron rule that even the demon lord cannot disobey. Of course, the summoner's body and mind must also be able to withstand the backlash of chanting the real name. And Sakara was not particularly surprised to find that none of the demon names he knew had the characteristics and power characteristics that matched the existence in front of him, but there was a god who did.

He was trembling with excitement over the miracle he had witnessed today.

There was no doubt that the slavery and suffering he had endured here were all for him to witness this moment. A resurrected god, born from the emotions and desires of the son of Ferrus, compressed to the point of being incomparably dense, was formed in the embryo sac in the High Heavens and summoned into this world, descending into a finely crafted metal body, falling from the temple of the alien race into the hands of humans.

These dull-witted sons of Ferrus have no idea what amazing masterpiece they have created from their boring craftsmanship, and Sakara must hurry before he dies or anyone or any alien realizes it...!
Suddenly, a sharp gaze shot towards him from the darkness above.

Like a poisonous snake being stared at by a hawk, the Word Bearer Apostle squirmed restlessly, trying to avoid the feet and boots, rolling himself into the shadows to the side, but the gaze remained unmoved and locked onto him tightly.

A kind of ruthless inorganic sound suddenly sounded deep in his brain, as if a talking mouth had grown inside his skull, and every word it spoke was shaking the brain of the Word Bearer.

Sakara Thresi's eyeballs froze, and the deep part of the surgical sutures where his neck and face met began to heat up.

"A ready-made servant? Very good, you'll be very useful for the time being."

(End of this chapter)