Warhammer: Start with a dog.

Chapter 605 Interlude : Dark Crow's Little Accident
Commorros, a dark dimensional super void hive miracle at the intersection of the Webway, a shattered and twisted fragment of the afterglow of the ancient Eldar Empire.

Every inch of its ground was soaked in blood, every breath of air was filled with pain.

Here, order and kindness have long been thrown out of the window, and morality and conscience seem like fairy tales that only bring ridicule and humiliation.

This City of Eternal Night lies in the depths of the Webway like a rotting corpse of an ancient behemoth whose end no one knows, feeding the descendants of the ancient empire who live here.

The streets are layered and winding like countless intertwined snakes or tentacles, the buildings on both sides are twisted and deformed, and the sharp tops of countless spires facing in all directions are piercing the black suns in the sky, as if screaming silently. They pierce the purple sky like countless broken ribs, and the tips are dripping with never-drying blood. From time to time, people walking here will find that blood is raining from the sky, and the slaves crawling on the surfaces of those magnificent and counterintuitive buildings are doing their eternal hard labor.

The air was filled with a strange sweet yet rotten smell, a mixture of pain and joy.

Every wall is inlaid with faces of agony, souls imprisoned for eternity, whose wails entertain the inhabitants and maintain their daily health.

Conspiracy and painful death spread in the corners of the wall, and the reflection of the broken blade illuminated the layers of dried blood on the ground.

Between the towering spires, suspended bridges woven from painful energy. The nobles of the Dark Eldar wore gorgeous clothes and walked gracefully through these translucent passages in high heels. Their laughter was sharp and piercing, like glass fragments scratching across metal surfaces. Behind every smile, there was endless malice and calculation.

Deep in the city, the triangular spires of the many arenas run by the Witch Cult are clearly visible in the sky. It is one of the most important facilities in Comoros, and exquisite killing and the fear and pain extracted are the eternal themes.

In the arena's always packed auditorium, the Dark Eldars feasted on the intense emotions squeezed out of the slave combatants by the artistic killings of the succubi or bloody witches. The fear and pain emanating from the slaves were constantly sucked away by hundreds of thousands of people. Every time a blade pierced flesh or life was splashed out by fangs and claws, it would trigger a frenzy of cheers.

Every arena is of vital importance. They are a group of fresh food bowls that are always bleeding. The spectators are also the diners. The pupils of the audience will dilate with excitement, and they will taste the pain and soul of every slave and loser who appears here with a twisted smile on their lips. After a full meal, they will walk out of the arena with overflowing vitality and radiant youth.

Humans and the various aliens that were hostile to them were hunted or captured, and brought here only to become food and slaves of the Dark Eldar. All those who were unfortunate enough to become slaves would then suffer, whether long or short-term, which would then become nutrients for Comoros and resources for production in the lower-level factories.

Under the core areas of Commorros, there live Haemonchi groups of varying sizes. They are very important even among the Dark Eldar, and what makes them wary is these ancient evil beings who possess the secrets of the Dark Eldar's resurrection and part of their souls.

It is said that some of the oldest, meanest, and worst of the Haemonculi have even survived from the ancient Eldar Empire to the present day. Of course, these monsters are so ancient that they cannot escape the gaze of the Lady of Thirst. The only way for them to keep their souls lingering in their bodies, which have been transformed into bodies of the deepest nightmares and not be drained into desiccated corpses is to devour more endless pain every day.

In general, this miraculous city built on the suffering of slaves and even fellow tribesmen, a traveler like him would be filled with the urge to destroy it all at a glance.

But he knew very well that even he couldn't achieve this wish now.

But...

Some easy tasks can still be done.

Corvus Krax was standing on top of a sharp arena spire, looking down at the twisted city and thinking.

He was not worried that he would be seen by the Dark Eldar's naked eyes or detectors in such a conspicuous place.

The body of Adalic Vannas has a very good genetic combination. He is the one among his descendants who can basically inherit his shadow talent completely. Therefore, he now converges his body into it and walks freely in the complicated shadows of Comoros.

This place full of counterintuitive buildings has no shortage of shadows in all directions. The top of the tower where he is located has a shadow about three feet long and two inches wide facing the dying star. The location is perfect, which makes Clarks' surveillance very comfortable.

Now, he was patiently waiting for the hunting party he heard was about to dock and pass by. Originally, he should have rushed back to the Steel of the Destiny to defend the chapel door, but when he happened to hear that a Dark Eldar Archon was hunting and preparing to throw the prey into the Witch Spirit Arena, he changed his mind.

It wouldn't take much time to rescue the prey... a few hours at most, and the mecha position at the entrance of the chapel was enough to hold out until he could get back. The construction and seal of the chapel itself were enough to block the "person" inside.

Normally, those powerful mechas would automatically go forward to repair the runes and lines that had been breached or destroyed. In fact, that "person" was not free to attack the position every day. According to the pattern of his previous defense, there would be no attack within a few hours, which was enough time for him to finish what he wanted to do here.

Perhaps this would be a New Year's gift that would make Magna Dorn happy. Clarks thought so, but it was undeniable that he had been somewhat unhappy about the fact that the bravest warriors among humans were captured and used to please the aliens for a long time - God knows, every time he came to Comoros, he would save everyone he could, but there was still an endless stream of people being captured!
Just as he was thinking, a group of the Archon's men, walking under his feet - or rather, walking on the side of the twisted street, were driving a dozen ragged captives, most of whom were aliens, but there were also a few humans.

Clarks' eyes swept across those numb faces one by one, and then at the end of the team, a tall figure came into his sight. Although he was wearing heavy shackles and stained with blood, his special figure and gait, silver armor and the damaged regiment emblem on the front of his left shoulder armor indicated that this was the target he was looking for.

"Kardulon, the champion of the Iron Knights, nicknamed 'Blade Saint'..."

The Raven Lord searched his own database list from an old man and found that the last time Kaduron was witnessed by his brothers in the real universe was more than seven hundred years ago. But obviously, the state of Kaduron who appeared before him was not what a warrior should be like after being tortured for more than seven hundred years.

The warrior had short dark brown hair and striking blue eyes. Although his head was bleeding, the bleeding had long been stopped by his own Laraman cells, so he looked fine. His helmet might be lost, as Clarks did not see it on the magnetic lock. The fresh traces of battle on his face and power armor indicated that he was captured alive in a premeditated battle.

Perhaps the ship carrying him encountered a sudden warp storm, or something else. In short, after disappearing for nearly 774 years, this Iron Knights Chapter Company Champion and Sword Master who had won more than one victory at the Feast of Blades was now escorted to Commoros.

It is enough to know that this information is correct.

Saving this warrior from the ignominious fate of becoming food for this group of fallen people would make Clarks feel better for a long time, so he chose to stay for a few more hours - after all, it was not him, Clarks, who would have to pay the bill later, and besides, as far as he knew, Kaduron's fate was actually... not that important.

So as a small gift for family, it was just the right size. The Raven King silently jumped down the spire. His heavy body and armor were lighter than a black feather as he jumped into the shadows beside the street. The shadows embraced him tenderly. The patrols of the Dark Eldar flew over his head with a roar, but no one noticed his existence. He was the shadow.

He walked to the end of the line.

The Dark Eldar escorts still didn't notice anything was wrong.

On the contrary, only Kadulon looked at the shadow where he was with suspicion and vigilance, as if he had noticed something.

Clarks clenched his fists.

Three on each side, a total of six dark claws popped out silently from the ridges of his curled fists, like the claws of some giant carnivorous dinosaur, sharp, long and deadly.

As he began to cut the throat of the third escort, the first Dark Eldar whose throat he had cut touched his throat with a strange expression - then a fountain of blood under pressure gushed out from his blood transport pipe, and the team began to panic. The escorts alertly and confusedly fired and waved their weapons in all directions.

"Come with me."

He approached the Iron Knight Astartes and whispered in his ear like a ghost, while at the same time he took out two smoke bombs and threw them at the scene - fortunately, this group of Dark Eldar did not use psychic power.

A strange black smoke spread out instantly, blocking everyone's vision and swallowing up the limited light and sound.

He grabbed the man's wrist, and his sharp claws cut through the shackles on his body like a hot knife through butter, while dragging him in the direction of retreat he had already chosen.

"who are you?"

The Iron Knight Champion asked in a low voice with caution, but his body instinctively followed Clarks' movement.

"There's no time to explain now," Clarks replied, "But I'm a...savior. We have to leave before the smoke bomb wears off."

They rushed into the intricate alleys, hearing the footsteps of pursuers behind them. Clarks led Kadulon through the three-dimensional maze-like streets, occasionally using extremely accurate back-shooting to eliminate a few Dark Eldar pursuers who were too close.

"Left!" Kaduron shouted suddenly, his palm clenched for a moment, as if he wanted to make a sword-slashing motion, but he forgot that his sword was taken away by his hunter.

However, Clarks had also noticed the attack. He turned sideways, and several vicious crystal dart fragments flew past his head and crotch. The Dark Raven Lord threw a plasma grenade with a slight annoyance. It flew out as if it was shot out from a mini macro cannon, blasting the surprised sniper into a ball of dust.

Even so, the sounds of shrill sirens were heard coming from all directions, with more and more Dark Eldar speeder bikes and other aircraft shouting and excited to join their favorite pursuit and hunting feast.

Clarks certainly had something to rely on. He lured them here just to lead them in the opposite direction. At the same time, he could easily use a large shadow space rune that he had prepared before to temporarily transfer all creatures except himself to quickly leave this damn place and return to the safe Destiny Steel.

Well, although this is actually a very illegal (against the safety and anti-psychic defense regulations of Magnus, Perturabo and Dorn) fast direct connection without security check, but this kind of shadow channel is originally a disposable channel built on demand, and only the creatures brought by Clarks himself can pass through it once when used, so he thinks it is just a special means for him to quickly return to his post, and it is not a big problem. You see, he does not open this kind of channel every time.

"Hold on to me!" He turned a corner and saw the rune point that only shone in his shadow vision. He then reached out his hand again and grabbed Kaduron, who was also running behind him and seemed a little confused. "Close your eyes for a moment. No matter what happens, don't speak, and don't let go - uh!"

A slender figure suddenly rushed out from the side at a dizzyingly high speed, breaking through a thin wall like a cannonball, splashing up pieces of debris.

“Bang!!!”

She ran right into the arms of Clarks who was holding Kadulon.

The shadow rune shone with activated light, and blackness gushed out like liquid, instantly engulfing the three of them.

Later, when the pursuers on the gathering airships and motorcycles arrived here, there was nothing here except shadows and ruins.

On the floor of the Destiny Steel, Clarks, using the body of Vannas, and Cardulon stood in the gradually fading tide of shadow and looked at each other silently.

The latter's eyes were still full of doubt and vigilance, and he looked towards the arms of the person who had just saved him.

There was a Dark Eldar woman with a bleeding head, her eyes full of confusion and fear, completely different from the other residents of Commorragh.

"Save...save me...I...important...information..." She muttered weakly, almost inaudibly, and then fainted.

Just when the Raven King decided to turn her into a corpse to be destroyed, a voice came from above his head.

"What is this? Huh?"

(End of this chapter)