Forced to die just after becoming invincible in Warhammer?

And who is that shadow that looks so familiar?

A series of questions swirled in his mind.

When Krashenx rushed onto the bridge, the crew was busy and frantic. The navigator anxiously reported, "Primarch, those unidentified objects are moving extremely fast. They are expected to reach Ultramar's atmosphere in twenty minutes!"

Clarks's eyes were sharp as he scanned the people on the bridge and gave the order: "Immediately warn the Ultramar defense forces, activate all weapon systems, and prepare to meet the enemy!"

Coates remembers his 11th sister as an avid geneticist.

She secretly built a huge laboratory in Ultramar to conduct various dangerous genetic experiments.

These aliens are biological weapons she cultivated using various alien genes.

Koz's original plan was to let these aliens show off their skills in front of Clarks, to give him a warning and test his strength.

But now he is cleaning up the mess, and luckily there is no one here.

Curze's power boots stomped heavily on the metal deck of the Clarks battleship, making a dull echo.

The air was filled with the pungent smell of gunpowder, burnt wires sizzled overhead, and several alien corpses lay twisted in the corner, mucus oozing from their broken shells, gathering on the deck into a pool of liquid emitting a strange fluorescent light.

Koz swept through the mess, snorted in dissatisfaction, and raised his hand to brush away the dust that had fallen on his shoulder armor.

He reached out to touch the gene scanner on his waist, and a mechanical arm emerged from the back of his armor, dragging an alien corpse in front of him.

The scanner's blue light flashed, and the data on the screen jumped wildly. Coz's face became increasingly gloomy - the genetic chains of these aliens had been tampered with a second time, with an additional strange and dangerous energy fluctuation. This was definitely not the original product of the 11th sister's laboratory.

"Damn it!" Koz cursed softly, and slammed his metal fist heavily on the bulkhead, leaving a dented fist mark.

He felt the ventilation duct. He didn't expect that there were still some remaining aliens hiding in the battleship, and he didn't expect that they knew how to use the ventilation duct to launch a surprise attack.

He flashed and ran in the direction of the alarm. Turning through a hatch, he was greeted by a strong smell of blood. He saw three crew members lying in a pool of blood, their throats slit open, and traces of corrosion still remaining on the edges of the wounds.

Suddenly, a dark shadow emerged from the ventilation duct and pounced on Koze with its fangs and claws bared. Koze reacted extremely quickly, dodging the attack sideways and swinging his sword at the shadow.

The sword blade collided with the black shadow, sparks flew, and it turned out to be a larger alien covered with black scales.

The alien roared and swept its tail like a steel whip. Coze quickly retreated and narrowly avoided it.

The battle became more intense, and several more aliens emerged from the ventilation duct and surrounded Koz.

These aliens coordinated well, attacking from different directions. Curze wielded his power sword, its shadow like a wheel, and each swing brought up a strong wind.

But there were too many aliens, and several wounds appeared on the Primarch's body, and blood seeped through his armor.

He didn't expect that his prediction would be ineffective and he didn't predict this incident would happen.

A strong dark aura surrounded Koz, like a rolling black cloud, swallowing up the faint light around him.

His four-meter-tall Terminator armor cast a massive shadow in the gloom, completely enveloping the trembling alien experiments. These once ferocious and brutal creatures now seemed to have their spines torn out, their bodies trembling uncontrollably and emitting intermittent whimpers.

"Humph, are you scared now?" Koz said coldly. His voice was low and cold, with an innate majesty, like an echo from the abyss of hell, constantly echoing between the metal cabin walls.

He slowly raised his spiked power gauntlet, the metal joints making a teeth-grinding creaking sound as they rotated. "A bunch of manufactured trash, you dare to act so presumptuous in front of me?"

A slightly larger alien bravely roared, trying to bluff.

Koz locked onto it instantly, and a scarlet light pierced through the darkness like a materialized arrow.

The alien seemed to be strangled by an invisible giant hand. Its originally held high head drooped in an instant, its body collapsed to the ground, and mucus continued to seep out from the corners of its trembling mouth.

Curze took a step forward, and the soles of his heavy boots made a deafening sound on the deck.

The entire battleship seemed to tremble slightly with this step. The surrounding aliens retreated like frightened birds. Some of the timid ones even curled up in the corner, covering their heads with their claws.

"Tell me, who is controlling you behind the scenes?" Koz's voice became colder and colder. He grabbed an alien by the neck and lifted it in front of him.

The alien's limbs danced wildly, its claws scratching sparks on Curze's armor, but it couldn't break free at all. "If you don't tell me, I will tear you into pieces one by one!"

Koz extracts the memories from their souls. Okay, this one is definitely not to be messed with.

The shadows were killing at breakneck speed.

Curze's power sword accurately slashed across the throat of the last alien, and warm, sticky black blood splattered on his shiny Terminator armor, emitting a strange luster under the red light of the emergency light.

There was dead silence all around, with only the whimpering coming from the ship's ventilation ducts, as if playing a dirge for the bloody massacre.

"Finally cleaned up," Curze groaned, raising his hand to shake the blood off the blade, the metal glove scraping against the blade with a harsh sound. He looked around, the scene was devastated. The battleship's lower bulkheads were riddled with holes, charred wires drooped like twisted vines, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of gun smoke and rotting flesh.

Even though the aliens have been basically eliminated, the gloom in my heart is getting heavier.

Chapter 274 Bobo Chicken Liman

"My lord, there was an accident on the warship under Clarks' command!" An Ultramarines officer puffed out his chest, saluted Guilliman, the Lord of Macragge, and reported in a voice like a bell.

Guilliman's brows were instantly furrowed, and a cold light flashed in his blue eyes. The anger suppressed in his heart seemed to be poured with a bucket of oil, and instantly burned fiercely.

"What's going on?" He said in a low voice, revealing uncontrollable anger.

"Three minutes ago, Lord Clarks's ship sent out an early warning signal." The Extreme Warriors did not dare to slack off and continued to report in a clear and orderly manner.

Guilliman looked solemn as he nodded slowly, suppressing his surging emotions and raised his hand to signal the sergeant to retreat.

At this moment, he was wearing a gorgeous and solemn dress, and the sword that originally symbolized supreme military power was replaced with an exquisitely decorated ceremonial sword. He was preparing for the landing ceremony of the brother warship, but he did not expect that the rhythm would be disrupted by this sudden change.

The two powerful forces, the Ever-Victorious Army and the Invincible Iron Guard, are quickly and orderly reorganizing their formations and preparing to set off.

From beginning to end, they only obeyed the orders of Guilliman, the Lord of Macragge.

Since it was a welcoming ceremony, the soldiers of the Ever-Victorious Army wore gorgeous armor inlaid with various gems and gold and silver patterns, but this did not affect their state of alert at all.

Every pair of eyes is as sharp as an eagle, examining the surroundings vigilantly.

They raised their bolters steadily, pointing the black muzzles at the warship carrying the noble Primarch. The air was filled with a tense atmosphere that was about to explode.

On the other side, Guilliman was closely surrounded by the Invincible Guard.

These fearless warriors clad in heavy power armor were like a solid fortress, firmly guarding Guilliman.

Their every movement and every look was precise and accurate, always ready to deal with any emergency and protect the Lord of Macragge.

Following a dull mechanical sound, the battleship's hatch slowly swayed, making a creaking sound.

The pupils of the Ever-Victorious Army soldiers contracted instantly, all the muzzles of their guns were pointed at the hatch, their index fingers hovered above the trigger, their nerves tense to the extreme.

With just one command, the blazing bombs will burst out like deadly meteors, tearing everything in sight into pieces.

Finally, the hatch was fully opened, and Clarks walked out first, followed by the battleship's command members.

Their steps were steady, but their expressions could not hide their fatigue and solemnity.

Guilliman, standing at the front of the team, instantly locked eyes with Clarks.

In an instant, his body shook and a hint of disbelief flashed in his eyes.

Clarks's appearance is 70% similar to Koz, with a high nose bridge, deep eye sockets, and an innate cold temperament, just like a midnight haunter.

Although Clarks and Curze had similar faces, Guilliman still caught a completely different light in Clarks' eyes.

"Hello, newly returned brother. I'm deeply sorry to learn that you were attacked by aliens in the 500th world. Leave this matter to me."

Guilliman took the blame, his voice low and filled with self-blame. He should have gone to clean up the aliens on 500 worlds earlier, but because of his negligence, his brothers were put in danger.

Clarks remained silent as he pulled out an alien head from behind him and handed it to Guilliman. "The aliens that attacked us on the ship were of this type. They are not only able to sneak, but also have sharp claws and incredibly tough skin. Brother, do you know their origins?"

Guilliman's expression froze, a trace of embarrassment flashing across his face. "This is Huile's experimental subject. When the sisters came, they borrowed my laboratory for research. The relevant genetic report is still on my office desk."

Facing Clarks' questioning gaze, Guilliman hastily added, "But I can assure you that these experiments have been kept safe and secure and will never leak out. Even if an accident occurs, it will happen on Macragge, not on your battleship."

Clarks frowned, and after a moment of contemplation, he said, "Unless the other party possesses strength comparable to that of the Primarch."

"Coz... I'm afraid he is the only one who can do this." Guilliman said in a heavy voice, expressing his guess.

The two looked at each other, and the air was filled with a solemn atmosphere.

Guilliman, acutely aware of the tense atmosphere, calmly changed the subject. "However, I believe the most important thing for you to do right now is to bathe and wash off the dust of your journey. Afterwards, we will host a welcoming reception for you, and let Mother make detailed arrangements for the rest of the trip."

Clarks nodded slightly, approving Guilliman's proposal.

Despite the assassination attempt, the deep brotherhood between the Primarchs remained unaffected.

The blood ties between brothers are deeply rooted.

Clarks now knows who the murderer is, but he is kind by nature and still has hope.

He hoped that the other party would muster up the courage to come forward and apologize, so as to resolve the conflict between them; or, just pretend that this incident had never happened.

With this thought in mind, Clarks followed Guilliman.

On both sides of the road, the Extreme Warriors were lined up in neat rows, their silver power armor shining brightly under the light of the street lamps.

Guilliman's face was full of enthusiasm. As they walked, he introduced the buildings along the way to Clarks: "Look, this is the Temple of Wisdom, which stores the precious knowledge we have collected; over there is the Heroes Memorial, commemorating the warriors who sacrificed their lives for the Empire." He talked incessantly, and every time he introduced a place, his eyes flashed with pride.

Clarks listened with interest, nodding in response from time to time.

He was deeply attracted by the prosperous scene here, and his eyes moved back and forth between the magnificent buildings, his eyes full of love.

The two walked towards the depths of the palace, and the warm yellow light poured down, slowly lengthening their figures.

As Clarks walked, he looked around curiously, looking forward to a bright future in his heart - one day, he, his brothers and sisters, and all the workers would be able to live in spacious houses, no longer have to worry about food and clothing, and enjoy tranquility and peace.

Guilliman observed Clarks calmly, and when he saw that he did not hide in the corner like Curze because of fear of the light, he understood.

This brother is very similar to me in many ways. They both have a love for life and plans and expectations for the future. Perhaps it is because they have the nourishment of a complete family that they can embrace the world with such a positive attitude.

Steam swirled in the hot springs, the water bubbling and boiling. Ornate buildings and statues stood in a row around them, the Primarchs' clothes and armor hung neatly beside them, gleaming with metallic luster.

"You should soak in the hot springs more often. This thing can eliminate fatigue and worries. Aurora and Huile also agree with my point of view." Guilliman relaxed his bulging muscles and introduced it to Clarks with a comfortable expression on his face.

"Yeah, it's really comfortable. But there's no way to take a hot spring bath on Savior Planet. It's a barren mineral planet, and even water is scarce. Even if there is water, it's not luxurious enough to use it for a hot spring bath." Clarks' chest rose and fell with his breathing. He obviously enjoyed this moment of relaxation, but his words still revealed his helplessness towards his own planet.

Just as he was enjoying himself, Clarks suddenly caught a key piece of information: "Aurora, Huile? Our sisters?"

Guilliman's lips curled up into a smile. "Yes, when they came here to soak in the hot springs, soldiers from two legions surrounded the palace and refused to let anyone in, not even me. They even pointed their bolters at my head."

"Isn't this normal! Guilliman, you should have some common sense. People are taking a hot spring bath and you still want to go in." Clarks complained silently in his heart, with a helpless expression on his face.

"But later, the Second and Eleventh Legions jointly bought this palace permanently. I then built another identical one nearby, which is where we are now taking a hot spring bath."

"Wow, this is so luxurious!" Clarks couldn't help but exclaim, his eyes full of surprise.

Clarks was soaking in the hot spring. The steam blurred his vision, but he was muttering in his heart.

Guilliman had just mentioned that after the Sister Legion purchased the Spa Palace, he had another identical one built nearby.

Thinking of this, Clarks frowned slightly and couldn't help but speak: "Guilliman, since you are going to build a new one, why not change the style? The two spa palaces are exactly the same, which will inevitably lead to misunderstandings."

Clark paused, his eyes scrutinizing him. "People might think you have inappropriate thoughts about your sisters."

As he spoke, the steam from the hot spring was still rising, and the surrounding statues stood quietly, as if waiting for Guilliman's response.

Guilliman paused, a look of surprise on his face, then he burst into laughter, his laughter echoing above the hot spring pool, stirring up a cloud of steam.

"Clarks, you actually think that! I rebuilt this palace purely out of respect for Aurora and Huile." He sat up slightly, his expression becoming serious. "Their love for this palace is beyond words. I was with them when they were choosing, and I know how much this hot spring palace means to them. I hope that whenever they want to soak in the hot springs, they can always enjoy the familiar surroundings and relieve their physical and mental fatigue."

Upon hearing this, Clarks looked carefully at Guilliman's expression and found that his eyes were frank and without any hypocrisy.

But he still said half-jokingly, "Even so, this approach is too easy to be misunderstood. There is no shortage of rumors in the Empire. As Primarchs, our every move is closely watched. If we are not careful, we will be caught by others."

Guilliman nodded slightly, a trace of thought flashing in his eyes. "You are right. When I first built the house, I was only concerned about making my sisters feel comfortable, and I didn't consider so much. It seems that I must be more cautious in my future actions."

A smile played on his lips. "But then again, we are brothers and sisters, and we are honest with each other. Why should we be afraid of these groundless speculations?"

The hot spring water was still gurgling, and the warm yellow light sprinkled on the two of them, casting swaying shadows on the ground.

Clarks shrugged and replied with a smile: "That being said, it is better to have less trouble than more. If these misunderstandings damage the friendship between our Primarchs, it will be more trouble than it is worth."

……

When Guilliman and Clarks completely disappeared from the battleship area, a black shadow as if from the abyss slowly seeped out from behind the cold metal corner.

It was like an evil creature born from the darkness, its limbs twisting and stretching strangely as it moved, and every movement was precise and smooth, just like a vampire bat flying through the dark night, silent but carrying a deadly aura.

Wherever it passed, the air was instantly torn apart, making a slight "hissing" sound, but in the blink of an eye, the broken airflow returned to its original state, as if nothing had happened.

As the shadow continued to move away from the warship, its shape gradually merged with the surrounding darkness and became increasingly difficult to identify.

Only the pair of eyes emitting a faint evil light appeared and disappeared in the darkness, like two will-o'-the-wisp fires.

But even Guilliman's elite warriors, who were experienced in battle and equipped with the most advanced reconnaissance equipment, could not detect the existence of this shadow as they scanned the area.

Like a ghost detached from reality, it moves freely between light and shadow.

"Could they have been discovered?" Curze huddled in the thick shadows, his voice low and hoarse, tinged with annoyance. "Well, being discovered is to be expected. I should have stopped making fun of Clarks. Who could have imagined it would get so out of hand?"

His body swayed slightly, as if blending into the surrounding darkness. Only his eyes flickered in the shadows, revealing complex emotions.

Thinking of the previous prank, his body trembled slightly, and his hands clenched unconsciously, his knuckles turning white from the force.