Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 877, page 08.876: 'What exactly are they planning?'

On the bridge of the "Swift Skyhawk," where blood flowed like a river, there was chaos everywhere caused by the fierce battle.

However, this chaos did not affect a duel taking place around the Command Throne.

Faced with the siege of the Ducalli assassins, Horatio's fighting rhythm suddenly changed after analyzing his opponent's combat strategy.

He deliberately created an opening, and after a seemingly weak parry, his left rib was completely exposed to the decapitation swordsman's attack range for a fraction of a second.

This is a deadly lure, a trap of utmost arrogance.

He was betting on his opponent's deep-seated instinct for the perfect kill, betting that it couldn't resist the temptation to cripple him and render him completely incapacitated.

The decapitation swordsman stared hungrily at the flaw that was so real it was undeniable.

A cold, triumphant glint flashed in its dark green eyepiece.

Its body shot out like an arrow, leaving a blurry afterimage in the air. The decapitation sword in its hand transformed into a condensed, deathly cold light, piercing straight for Horatio's heart.

However, Horatio's action was not a "reaction" but a "prediction".

This was entirely due to his superhuman physiological functions resulting from unknown genetic modifications, and the tactical analysis running coldly in his mind like a supercomputer, rather than any experience or intuition.

Instead of parrying the fatal sword strike, he charged forward at an even faster, more illogical speed just before the blade touched his body, boldly stepping into the arc of the opponent's attack.

The roar of "The Immaculate Angel's Lash" reached its peak at that moment!
Time seemed to freeze like amber.

Horatio swung the chainsaw sword from bottom to top with a perfect, effortless motion.

This is not a clash between mortal weapons and mortal armor.

This ancient relic of the Holy Blood Angels, its serrated teeth forged from sacred adamantium, roared and greedily bit into the decapitator's magnificent and sturdy war armor.

A piercing, teeth-grinding metallic tearing sound echoed across the bridge.

The energy field on the decapitation swordsman's weapon instantly extinguished, as his entire mind and body were utterly shattered by the sudden, unimaginable pain.

The "Immaculate Angel's Lash" is tearing, grinding, and destroying.

The armor that easily withstood the Hellfire Gun was easily sawed through like cheese, bursting out dense sparks and metal fragments.

Immediately afterwards, the serrations embedded themselves deeply into the alien's pale flesh, and the immense kinetic energy pulled him downwards, pressing him firmly against the roaring serrated blade.

Blood, entrails, and shattered bones were brutally hurled into the air by the high-speed spinning saw blades, raining a bloody storm over the wreckage of the bridge.

Horatio drew his chainsaw sword with a swift motion, and the decapitated swordsman's nearly cleaved corpse slid limply to the ground like a tattered bag of flesh and bones.

He casually switched off the weapon's power, and the deafening roar of the hymn came to an abrupt halt.

The bridge fell into a deathly silence, with only sporadic electrical sparks crackling on the dying control panel, and the air filled with ozone and a strong smell of blood.

For some reason, the remaining two Nightmares stopped their attack and did not immediately rush up to avenge their captain.

They stood motionless, their bone-white helmets first turning towards the mangled corpse on the ground, then slowly towards Horatio.

No emotion could be discerned from those dark green lenses.

Horatio stepped onto the breastplate of the trophy, letting the alien blood dripping from the chainsaw blade stain the deck black.

He didn't speak, but slowly raised his weapon to his chest, assuming a standard defensive stance.

His modified body showed no signs of fatigue, and his breath condensed into white mist in the slightly cool air.

The battle was about to break out again, but a Nightmare Swordsman turned his head slightly and looked at the lowered partition on the bridge, as if he were staring through the barrier at some void outside.

whoosh-

Without any warning, the two Nightmare figures suddenly twisted in the air and vanished from Horatio's sight. It was as if they had received some silent instruction, appearing in a flash and then disappearing without a trace within the same flash.

Horatio, not having time to investigate their strange behavior, rushed to the command throne to eagerly assess the battle situation that was slipping out of his control.

The scene on the tactical hologram made even his superhuman heart sink.

The two slave ships, like hungry jackals, sandwiched the "Swift Eagle" between them, while above them, the massive black ark circled like a vulture, casting an ominous shadow.

During the brief period when he, the commander, was dragged into the melee on the bridge and removed from command, three enemy ships encircled the "Swift Skyhawk".

Now, they can calmly engage in a brutal boarding maneuver against the Swift Eagle via their docking arms.

Horatio understood.

The fact that the Dark Eldar sent three top assassins suggests that their true objective was not a decapitation strike, but rather a carefully planned feint.

After stalling Horatio long enough, the Nightmare, who was not yet dead, immediately retreated—these cunning aliens did not want him to die so easily.

Once they had successfully held him back for a sufficient amount of time and roughly ascertained his combat strength, an even more greedy thought arose in the mind of the Son of Thorns' ruler:

He desired his rare and powerful slave even more, for it would surely win the heart of the Queen of the Comoros Arena and have her speak well of the Son of Thorns before the Lord of Comoros, thus securing a glimmer of hope. Even gaining some personal favor from her would be well worth it.

Although the situation is already precarious, it has not yet reached the point of complete collapse.

Previously, the starboard docking port, which had been torn apart during the battle by the foolish former captain of the USS Babel Light, had been completely sealed by the damage control team with emergency solidification foam and armor plates to prevent oxygen leakage.

This unexpected move, ironically, prevented one of the slave ships from finding a stable docking location, thus slowing the rate of invasion.

Horatio reconnected the neural plug to the back of his neck, and the warship's sensory data flooded into his brain.

From his command perspective, he could clearly see the real-time battle situation of the entire warship.

The Dark Eldar boarding force, pouring into the bridge from the elevators and hatches below, has already engaged in fierce fighting with the security forces guarding the area.

The fiery red laser of the Hellfire Gun and the purple poison crystal barrage of the Poison Crystal Rifle intertwined to create a colorful storm of death.

Every moment, personnel from both sides fell amidst explosions and barrages of gunfire.

The officers remained dutifully at their posts.

The security forces used the limited time available to erect a temporary barrier for them using terracotta breastwork to reduce the probability of them being hit by stray bullets.

Thanks to the dedication of these loyal warriors, even as the battle raged on the bridge, the Swift Eagle, a light cruiser that had served for a thousand years, continued to fight tenaciously against her enemies in the void.

However, the fighting inside the ship still seriously affected the duties of the bridge and gun crews.

Precise volleys could no longer be carried out in an orderly manner; the communications array was filled with gunfire, screams, and chaotic tactical commands.

The artillery commander had no choice but to issue a "free fire" order, delegating the authority to fire to reserve officers in the various artillery command rooms—as long as the artillery was loaded and the parameters were checked, they could fire freely without prior notification.

The only answer the "Swift Skyhawk" could give at this moment was to respond to the enemy's attempt to board with the fiercest artillery fire.

Suddenly, three prominent holographic communication requests popped up on Horatio's command interface.

[This is...] Horatio felt a slight surge of excitement, but quickly regained his composure and hesitated.

But he ultimately chose to open it anyway.

At this point, would the Dark Eldar still bother to disguise themselves as Imperial ships and send false information to themselves?
Fine, then let's treat it as fake news. I'll see what other tricks you aliens can pull.

He used his white glove, stained with alien blood, to swipe across the control panel and bring up a communication pop-up.

After adjusting his gold-trimmed, embroidered collar—a symbol of his rank as a colonel and chief lord—he put his bicorn hat back on and calmly faced the holographic projector.

(End of this chapter)