Kingdom Come: Deliverance, but Warhammer 40k

The attacker had already drawn a long, thin dagger.

The blade was long and narrow, with a cold, dark blue sheen.

Psionic weapons?

But that wasn't enough to make Henry back down.

With the blessing of the god of war, the knight charged forward, sword in hand.

The chainsaw sword roared as it swept across, leaving a trail of light in the air as the steel cut through the air.

Ding--!

The dagger struck the side of the chainsaw sword head-on.

Using the force of the impact, the Elven assassin swayed backward, his toes touching the ground, his body as light as a leaf, narrowly avoiding the horizontal slash of the sword.

Immediately afterward, before Henry could unleash his second strike, his opponent turned and retaliated.

His pace was so swift that even Henry had difficulty keeping up with his movements.

  

The blade tip thrust out repeatedly, aiming straight for the gaps in the armor under the throat, face, and armpit.

His moves were ruthless, his killing intent no longer concealed; he was determined to kill Henry...

Almost instantly, several plumes of blood mist appeared between Henry and the Eldar as the dagger was drawn.

However, the knights favored by Khorne can often refuse to die.

Moreover, given Henry's current physical condition, these wounds are far from fatal.

The splattering blood, ironically, became his cover.

The sharp blade cleaved through the blood mist.

To the Eldar's surprise, the chainsaw sword had already crashed down on them.

boom!

The heavy iron sword slammed onto the deck, causing the entire ground to tremble.

The shattered steel plates warped outwards, and nearby tents collapsed in droves.

But the assassin jumped up first.

Defying the laws of physics, his body flew backward, almost parallel to the ground, scraping against the spinning saw teeth.

However, one corner of his hood was caught in the chain teeth and torn into shreds.

The distance between the two closed again.

The Spirit Race member's eyes sharpened.

But this time, he did not continue to dodge.

With a flick of his wrist, the dagger met the oncoming chainsaw sword head-on.

The expression on the Spirit Race member's face suddenly changed.

A violent force, utterly inhuman, surged through the short blade and into his arms.

His tiger's mouth split open instantly.

The assassin was thrown off the ground and his body crashed sideways into the supporting iron pillar behind him.

The entire iron pillar emitted a muffled thud, and large pieces of rust fell off with a rustling sound.

After landing, the assassin, still shaken, took several steps back.

He only stopped when his back hit the support frame of a tent.

His hand holding the knife trembled uncontrollably, his body still savoring the power that came from that 'human'.

Henry, however, had already closed in again.

His fighting spirit was at its peak, and Khorne fueled his killing spree, rewarding him handsomely.

The war drums beat fiercely, and Henry once again stepped onto the Bohemian arena, where cheers erupted from the common people.

The surrounding scenery began to change, and gradually, illusory cavalrymen rushed out from who-knows-where.

They waved their flags and surrounded the two duelists, a wooden platform appearing beneath their feet.

Colorful flags fluttered in the bright sunshine, a noblewoman held a glass of fine wine, and flowers were scattered by children.

This should have been a hallucination that Khorne gave Henry.

But for some reason, the Adaling seemed to have seen these sights as well.

He abandoned his plan to continue the fight and leaped into the air with the force of his legs.

He leaped high into the air.

Step onto the top of the tent with your toes.

The fabric surface dented significantly, then bounced back up.

After a few light leaps and bounds, his figure once again blended into the scattering tide of refugees, disappearing without a trace in a few flashes.

Henry naturally couldn't chase after them; the speed difference between them was too great.

Moreover, this could also be a diversionary tactic by the other side.

The knight silently sheathed his sword, waiting for the illusion to fade.

"The Spirit Race..."

Henry murmured the name.

Why are you here?

Before my thoughts could settle, a series of broken, mournful howls came from behind.

"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!"

"Who was so blind as to kick my kidney away!"

"Don't step on my tentacles! Don't step on my tentacles!"

Henry turned around and looked back.

Anastasius was no longer recognizable as human.

The tissue, shredded by the high-energy crystal, was scattered everywhere.

At this moment, the rotten flesh was spontaneously wriggling around.

Thin, soft strands emerged from the flesh, pulling and sticking together like ropes.

Several long tentacles rummaged around in the corner, picked up half of the fallen head, dragged it back, and slapped it on top of the pile of flesh.

"It's crooked!"

My head started calling out on its own.

The tentacles scrambled to pull the head off again, adjusted the angle, and pressed it back in.

The two guards next to Anastasius were also not spared because they were too close to him.

His chest cavity was severely ruptured, and he lay unresponsive in a pool of blood.

Anastasius cried out as he parted his fleshy tendrils and burrowed into their wounds.

The scattered organs were forcibly put back in their original places, and the broken tissues reconnected in the bluish-green mucus.

Not long after.

Under the strange power of the subspace, the two guards actually stood up unsteadily.

They looked down at their own bodies.

One of them slowly raised his foot.

Left foot, and the other foot is still left foot.

He touched his shoulder again.

Both hands were left-handed.

The other guard was in even worse condition.

In the case of having only the right hand and right foot.

The cervical spine was bent at an odd angle, and the person could only barely see the road in front of them by tilting their head to one side.

The noisy surroundings became eerily quiet.

Anastasius shrank his neck into the pile of flesh.

"that……"

"I'm a medical school apprentice... the kind without a license."

"I'm still a little rusty with the business."

No one answered him.

He lowered his head guiltily, then secretly extended his tentacles to switch the legs back for the two guards.

But for some reason, a leg suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

"Oh? It seems worse."

Anastasius's entire face collapsed, physically collapsed... his jaw fell off.

Just as he was preparing to continue making amends.

The green flesh on his body suddenly glowed.

It's dead again.

A while later.

It lit up again.

Rings of green fluorescence moved up and down along the strange body, flickering on and off.

He stood there in the middle of the messy camp, like a string of malfunctioning festive lights.