The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Under the starless sky, it was pitch black, and the combined force of various warp substances reduced visibility. The howling wind threw gravel and mud into the storm, and the torrential rain poured down.

But neither of those facts mattered to Azrael, whose vision sensors in his helmet filtered and illuminated the darkness, allowing him to see as clearly as day.

Masses of tactical and situational data rolled over his right eye, absorbed by his enhanced memory.

His left shoulder had been slightly damaged in the course of the previous fight, but the servos were working within their normal range, and the command team had formed a line of defense around the damaged Rand, their identification tags and vital signs hovering over Azri Periphery of the Retina Display.

"Stay vigilant! The enemy may still be around."

Deathwing Grand Master Belial's voice crackled on the voice link.

Azrael glanced at the targets, the parapets of hive ruins towering from all sides, and he glanced at them, a new set of data drifting across his helmet-mounted display.

The main material of this fortification is metal and rock, capable of withstanding full-scale bombardment.

"Keep tight formations, the storm is limiting communications."

Azrael's tone was clearly annoyed.

"Master of the boulder, can your instrument still guide us to attack?"

"Undecided, I need time to evaluate."

The Armory Lord's answer was hoarse in Azrael's ear.

"We continue to attack."

Azrael dropped the hissing communicator.

"Using melt bombs and cutting equipment."

The heavy fortifications were torn apart with the hiss of high-pressure gas, and after the dark angels poured into the fortifications, some moved to the right, and some patrolled to the left.

Azrael couldn't help frowning as his helmet struggled to filter the rotting air.

There are signs of battle everywhere. Broken luminaires flickered across the ceiling, casting jagged spots of light around the entrance room, and the walls were riddled with fist-sized holes. Sparks poured from the dangling strands of bare cables, the metal of the floor was scorched, blood and guts all over the place.

"No bodies."

Asmodea spoke Azrael's thoughts.

"The dead are not our concern, keep your eyes open for the living."

Azrael aimed his pistol at the adjacent hallway and walked behind a humble barracks.

Apparently once a home for the Chaos Rebels, sheltering from orbital bombardment under heavy rubble, it is now deserted.

According to the scan results, the passage will be extended for half a kilometer, and then a set of stairs will lead them to the central area of ​​the Attica Hive, where the governor's residence used to be.

"The perfect place for an ambush at this time."

Priest Sappho watched the dark passage vigilantly.

"Orias, leave a company in place here and take on the watch."

"as you wish."

Third Captain Orias struggled to hide his displeasure, even though he knew the Grand Master was right—they would be forced to march down the corridor side by side, with no room for more warriors.

Then, Azrael entered the darkness.

As the Grand Master walked down the corridor, he could hear Beria's footsteps behind him, the hissing of cables as they struggled, and the movement of metal—

Azrael swerved to the left, a grenade hit the ground, and his vision sensors dimmed instantly, protecting his eyes from the harsh flash of light that filled the room.

With a bang, half a dozen ceiling grilles fell to the ground, and a group of figures in soaked uniforms fell and opened fire.

"Enemy attack!"

Azrael yelled at the communicator, even as a burst of laser fire splashed from his armor.

"quantity?"

Beria turned his head, and sporadic weapon fire illuminated the corridor behind him.

"There is also ahead."

Azrael raised his relic bolter, advancing and firing as the laser burst from further corridors.

In the firelight, Azrael saw the attackers carry the Imperial Eagle on their filthy chests.

"traitor!"

He growled, gnashing his teeth as the laser shot hit his helmet.

During the charge, the Supreme Master clenched the hidden sword and twisted the handle to activate the energy core.

The energy field of the weapon roared, like fury in the master's veins.

The Grand Master charged at the traitor, ignoring the lasers that pierced at the armor.

As the traitors tried to hold their ground, Azrael swooped into the flock like a tiger, slashing his blade sharply upward, slicing the man in front of him in half from groin to shoulder, tearing the first of them apart.

As the two halves of the man's torso hit the ground, Azrael had bisected the other from the hip bone to the ribcage, and the third died as he completed the action, the High Master cutting the sword directly into the man's head and Drag the heart out of his ribs.

Even between battles, he did not forget to observe.

Azrael counted, there were fifteen muzzle flashes, and the traitors only used that number to ambush them?

The cowards hid behind some overturned supply bins and sheet metal they dragged from the floor, Azrael used a bolt gun to sew a line into the barricade, and when the explosive bullet hit the metal and blasted flesh, he Enhanced hearing records changing sounds.

Only twelve muzzle flashes remained.

To his left, Bellia's storm bolter fired with a deafening roar, and a line of fire shot down the hallway.

Barricades exploded in blue flashes as bullets hit their targets, some screamed as overheated shrapnel pierced traitors' bodies, others, more fortunate, returned to death instantly.

Azrael knew that under Belial's helmet, the Grand Master of Deathwing must be smiling—his hatred for traitors was unparalleled.

A ragged traitor fell over the corpse of his comrade, struggling on all fours, desperately searching for a weapon, when Azrael shot him in the head.

"The fate of the traitor!"

When faced with an enemy whose armour had the guts and blood of their comrades, the traitors retreated.

Only one man was still holding his ground, staring at Azrael with wide-eyed eyes, pulling a box of grenades from his suspenders.

But he underestimated the Space Marine's reflexes~www.wuxiaspot.com~ Azrael charged up and chopped off his head in an instant.

Grenades fell from the fingers of the headless corpse.

Ahead of him, the surviving traitors gathered behind a pillar, and he could see the horror on their haggard faces as the Grand Master emerged unscathed from the shadows.

They thought the pillars would protect them from the Emperor's wrath?

This is an insult.

Azrael growled, the metallic resonance of the helmet's audio amplifier giving the sound a beastly quality.

One of the traitors directly **** his pants.

Then, the Supreme Instructor rushed towards them. Take off in the last few meters and throw your sword through the post as you land.

The blade sliced ​​open the traitor's body, spewing blood and shattered organs, chewing on the metal of the pillar, and stabbing into the bodies of the two closest traitors to it.