Warhammer: Black Emperor

Chapter 810 The more brutal the war, the stronger we, bestowed with the power of death by the Black Emperor, will become.

Orange flames flickered on the shoulder and breastplates of "The Schemer" Polti, dispelling the chilling aura.

Two miniature suns shone in Wilshire's obsidian eyes as he gazed through the flames at the slowly forming pale giant bird.

It has three shrikes, and its wings have changed from pure white to pale, glowing with a green eerie fire.

Atop the long beak, a head, within its white bones, a ghostly fire burns fiercely.

The green light flashed, revealing a chilling and fierce aura.

The Shrike Ghost!

thump!

Amidst a venomous, shrill cry, pale wings fluttered, and the psychic flames were extinguished in an instant.

Wilshire's armor crackled in the wind, and the "Priest of Light" leaned back, about to open his arms, when he suddenly stopped.

He opened the sound array channel, quickly adjusted the channel, and contacted Adams, the lord of the Fourth Warband.

"Death Lord, my team, including Polti from the Seventh Legion, killed over a hundred Shrikes."

"Their deaths created a ghost."

A chilling voice came through the communication channel, "Oliver is collecting the body at Crow's Nest No. 47. He'll be there immediately."

"Thank you for the gift." Adams' voice was slightly calmer, but still somewhat cold and hard.

“Praise be to my Lord!” Wilshire smiled devoutly, ignoring Adams’s chilling words.

Praise be to our Lord!

Wilshire heard the piety in the soft voice and nodded slightly in satisfaction.

He gave up killing the Shrike Ghost, allowing it to be offered as a sacrifice to the Black Emperor by the Fourth Chapter.

The stronger the royal cultivators become, the better they can serve the Black Emperor.

Wilshire raised his right arm and flicked his scepter, causing golden, illusory flames to ignite out of thin air.

The "fire of light," radiating the majestic and pervasive aura of the sun, was pure and sacred, and the eerie screams echoing around it suddenly vanished.

The shrike ghost screamed shrilly and rose rapidly.

It sped away from the bridge, circling the mountain peaks.

The arsonists retreated one after another, raising their hands to throw out "blazing white spears".

A blazing white spear flew out and smashed into the pale wings.

boom!
With a deafening roar, a bowl-sized hole was blasted through the pale wings, revealing bones that glowed with a greenish light.

The shrike ghost let out a mournful howl, increasing its distance to avoid the black-armored warrior on the green wolf's back.

Its hollow, eerie green eyes gleamed with a fierce black light.

The shrike ghost flapped its pale wings and pounced on the silver tower, its fierce long beak piercing through the magnificent silver wall.

Amidst the terrified screams of the Evans, the Shrike Ghost's head suddenly leaped forward.

Its long beak, like a knife slicing through butter, pierced through the light black armor and lifted the Aiven man up.

bang bang bang...

The Aivenmen raised their guns and fired in unison, the barrage striking the pale wings and stirring up streaks of eerie light.

The shrike ghost let out a sharp cry, and the razor wings spun around.

Blood and flesh splattered everywhere as more than a dozen Aivens were torn apart by their "comrades," their severed limbs scattered across the ground.

The shrike ghost's long beak thrust repeatedly, pinning the Aiven people to the ground.

call!
Its movements suddenly stopped, and it felt a pair of cold eyes staring at it.

The shrike ghost suddenly turned around and flew out of the tower.

Rumble!
A colossal object crashed into the silver tower, smashing the dozen or so Aivens inside, along with the crumbling building, to pieces.

Roar!
A fierce roar, mixed with a cold, pungent wind.

A skeletal lion, its head and belly covered in sharp, white spikes, leaped from the tower ruins. Its gaping, ferocious maw, with serrated blades, gripped tightly against the shrew's jagged tail. The shrew's ghost flapped its wings and spun rapidly, trying to shake off the monster that was tearing at it.

Oliver, the company commander of the 4th Regiment, sat firmly behind the Lion Spirit, gazing at the sky.

The ghosts under his command appeared suddenly when he became the "gatekeeper" of Sonem 8. They were the most powerful of his undead army of over a hundred men.

Even after becoming a true "gatekeeper," Oliver still didn't believe he had the ability to control this powerful ghost.

He also knew that four people had gained the ghost's favor when they became "gatekeepers":
Death Lord Adams, along with Company Commander Keon of the Fifth Company, who was dispatched by the Black Emperor on a mysterious mission, and Tezuka Sasebo of the Tenth Battle Group.

The "gatekeeper" stared intently at the shrike ghost, his mouth, hidden beneath his helmet, opening and closing erratically as he uttered difficult, awkward sentences.

Awkward, jarring "words of the dead" suddenly echoed in the minds of the shrike ghost and the lion ghost.

The male lion ghost roared and howled, its sharp teeth growing ever more ferocious.

The shrike ghost moved with difficulty, as if being pulled by thousands of threads.

Ugh!
A silent, eerie breeze rose, making the surrounding dark and chilly environment even more profound.

A bronze gate slowly split open between Oliver's left eyebrows.

Each "gatekeeper" has a realm of the underworld that serves as a prison for the body; Oliver's entrance is between his left eyebrows.

call!
The hurricane suddenly rose up, pulling the shrike's ghostly body upwards.

Whoosh...

Countless hands of different sizes and shapes extended from the bronze gate.

Some of its hands are as long and slender as those of the Aiven people; it was once an Eldar.
Some of them are sharp like bird claws, and were once ghosts that haunted Sonem 8;

……

Claws and claws gripped the long, pale beak of the bird.

Sharp edges sliced ​​through their palms, dripping green, foul-smelling pus.

Not a single hand loosened its grip, tugging tightly at the pale beak.

The male lion ghost suddenly released its grip.

A sharp hiss escaped from deep within the shrike's throat.

With a heavy creak, the crack in the door widened, and a terrifying suction force emanated from within, tearing at the shrike ghost's body with a fluttering sound.

Whoosh!
The shrike ghost was pulled into the gate of deathly silence and vanished without a trace.

The door slowly closed, plunging everything into darkness.

Oliver, the "gatekeeper" who captures powerful ghosts, looks down.

Soldiers from the 1st Company of the 4th Regiment, with green skulls painted on their right shoulders, surged into the valley.

The necromancer approached the corpses of the Evans, summoning emaciated skeletons and mutilated undead.

The army of the dead continued to expand and spread, taking over the lines of the Second and Seventh Armies.

[The more brutal the war, the stronger we, granted the power of death by the Black Emperor, will become.]
The tracks of Heliossa, the bridge of the Shadow of the Throne, Nimrod leaning against the command throne.

Gabriel, the master of armaments, has mechanical tentacles hanging low behind him.

"My Lord, the tests of the intelligent machines and the overseers have been successful."

……

Nimrod nodded in satisfaction. This way of dealing with Khlav was especially effective in ensuring that the "conspirators" could complete the ritual of being promoted to "harvesters".

“Great, mass production. I hope that in nine years, they will be at a considerable scale.”

The communication bead in Alsena Dunn's ear hummed as he spoke to the Black Emperor.

"My lord, the Legion has made a breakthrough on the second and third continents, and more than sixty Raven Nests have been cleared."

Ninglu nodded, rose from his throne, and gazed at the snow-covered Antarctic.

"It's time to send the First Battle Group to land on Continent One."

(End of this chapter)