Douluo Continent: The Eye of Truth

Chapter 377 The Howl of the Banshee

That was a scream—

A terrifying, extremely terrifying scream.

Through his blurry vision, Conco saw what appeared to be a crack in the air, as if struck by lightning.

The old, lifeless air seemed to shimmer, as if a sudden burst of hot mist had appeared at its center.

Concord managed to activate his throne, the data link stretching across his flabby skin, but it took time, while in the distance, at the blast door, all the armed guards were dead, their bodies scattered behind the open partition.

Something was moving around them, emitting a faint glow.

They swept across the bridge at a speed almost impossible for the eye to follow, moving from one side of the control panel to the other in a flash.

Concord stared in horrified paralysis as the bridge crew appeared to be shredded by the flow of energy.

His limbs were separated, his throat was cut open, and his chest was ripped open.

Blood and screams filled the command deck.

Suddenly, the pain and screams that had been tormenting Conko seemed to have disappeared.

He was panting, his thin, bony fingers groping for the station alert button on the armrest of the throne.

"Sealed explosion-proof door!"

He roared, but no one listened; everything around him descended into chaos.

The crew members are being slaughtered.

When his vision cleared, the "lightning bolts" had transformed into tall, slender shapes—they wore bone-white armor, strange masks, and scarlet sideburns that flew behind their heads like splattered blood.

These bizarre forms moved with a speed and grace beyond human comprehension, desperately slicing through the desperate bridge crew with thin swords and spears.

In the blink of an eye, they had wiped out the security assessment team and begun attacking deck officers, platform operators, and ship analysts.

Watching his subordinates being dismembered and their mechanical parts, fuel and blood mixed together, explode one after another, Concord's aging hand finally reached the station's alert button.

But just like before, he found himself frozen and unable to move.

He was extremely nervous, his jaw clenched, and a helpless roar formed in his throat, but his body simply wouldn't obey.

It was like the sleep paralysis he experienced during his long journey through the warp—his will still functioned, but it was as if it were trapped in a stone statue, completely unable to respond to his will.

He struggled to pray to the emperor, sweat soaking his glasses.

Finally, his last crew member also died.

The bridge suddenly fell silent. Before the Thinker abruptly cut off the power, the sound of blood dripping onto the deck could even be heard.

Only one human remains alive, sitting on a throne on the central platform of the domed chamber.

A war shaman used psychic powers to immobilize the body of an elderly human.

Then she slowly ascended the steps of the podium, the ancient sorcerer's sword dripping blood, the white edges of her robe stained with blood.

When she stood in front of this human, he was also looking at her, but his gaze was aimless.

Veronica stared into his eyes for a moment, usually finding little from such a species—nothing but hatred and fear.

As always, their thought processes were extremely simplistic, and Veronica found no pleasure in eliminating them.

Or rather, she never did.

As a young Eldar, Veronica spends most of her time as a member of the Black Guardians, patrolling the vicinity of the Eye of the Cursed and intercepting the terrifying creatures that try to escape from within.

She didn't even know the significance of the Great Prophet having her participate in this mission; she never had any particular thoughts about human beings—neither hatred nor interest.

However, now is not the time for mercy.

With her pale, slender fingers, Veronica reached out and tucked a strand of silver hair that had fallen across her forehead behind her ear.

She could sense the old human trembling with a desperate desire to escape her; he was even battling every nerve to break free from the helplessness of the witchcraft.

The veins bulged on his high neck, hidden in the crisp collar of his military uniform, and sweat covered his wrinkled forehead.

Then, Veronica gently touched his forehead with two slender fingers; she needed to obtain the orbital station's fire control key from this human's head.

The moment the power was released, a mix of emotions overwhelmed her will.

Fear, anger, shock.

She brushed past them, searching for something below.

Her own consciousness swiftly searched through human memories for the foundation that sustains the soul.

She felt a mixture of pain and pride as she watched him sit on the throne for the first time, as the red-robed, chanting machine beings connected data chains and cables to his body.

She went even deeper.

She saw him on another ship, some kind of capital ship, gripping the railings around the throne, surrounded by flames, and he was covered in blood.

This was the most humiliating moment of his life, and his most painful defeat.

She went deeper.

She saw him standing in a magnificent cathedral, surrounded by applauding guests, with a beautiful woman opposite him, and a priest loudly praising the Lord of mankind and proclaiming the sanctity of their marriage.

He was young, his body was no longer withered, and his mind was filled with excited joy.

There's another kind...

Veronica hesitated about this feeling, like a child looking up at a candy jar on a shelf, knowing that getting it might be risky, but the wonderful taste was irresistible.

What is this emotion?

Is this the kind of love described in books?

A certain sound suddenly reminded her.

By now, Veronica immediately focused on guarding her consciousness; she had already gone too far into this person's memory.

She suddenly realized that although some things were forgotten deep in their hearts, they were never truly lost.

Honor, responsibility, and love.

This seems to be his core, the root of his existence, and the reason he continues to live and breathe—even though he has forgotten it.

Everything seemed to take a long time, but it was actually over in less than a second.

With Veronica's thought of an end, the real-world internet cable erased his existence.

Humans immediately collapsed on its throne and died.

Veronica moved her fingers away.

For a moment, she looked down at the corpse with its empty eyes.

For a moment, she wondered if, when he still understood warmth and love, he had ever considered the violent and bloody path he would eventually take.

"War Wizard, do not become too engrossed in the souls of other beings; it is harmful."

A chilling voice rang out, and Veronica quickly averted her attention from the human corpse.

She turned around and looked at the blood-stained bridge, where she saw a lithe figure emerge from the carnage—clad in ancient, dark bronze armor, wielding a spear, with black tassels cascading down her back.

Lord of the Howling Banshees, Jain Zar.

"These monkeys are nothing but violence and ignorance. Their souls are like cheap liquor; drinking it will only cause headaches and nausea. Only the depraved would try to draw nourishment from the souls of these monkeys."

The Banshee Queen's voice carried a reprimanding tone, and Veronica, who had already obtained the fire control key to the orbital station, quickly lowered her head.

"Yes."

Outside the orbital station, a small Eldar warship was quietly attached to its metal hull. It was equipped with a full holographic shield and draped in the most powerful psionic veil, which allowed it to approach the orbital station silently, avoiding all probes.

The central hub of the orbital station has been destroyed, but their numbers are far from enough to take over the entire station. In fact, Veronica could hear knocking on the sealed blast door in the distance, which meant that more humans were trying to get in.

They're running out of time.

Veronica knew that although the Great Prophet had been trying to loosen the chains, the hand of fate was still tightening around their throats like a noose.

If she doesn't succeed here, she will lose more than just her personal future.

The entire Ark world will be plunged into crisis.

"We must act quickly."

(End of this chapter)