The Emperor’s Angel of Death

The latest website: "Eleventh Corps..."

Tubek lowered his head and thought for a moment.

"Why was it erased in the first place?"

"His Holiness said it was because of the use of alien technology."

"Just like that?"

"Don't you think it's weird that Soshyan's anti-warp space force is coming?"

"When you say that, it's true...even the untouchable shouldn't behave like that."

A cold smile appeared on Gar Mozejie's face.

"Trust me, they have a lot of secrets they can dig up."

"If that's the case, why don't we just stab the matter to the Empire? Isn't their Inquisition very nosy?"

"It's useless."

Gar Mozejie shook his head.

"Do you remember those black armored men who suddenly appeared?"

"Well, those people? What's wrong?"

"His Holiness said that he accidentally discovered many years ago that there seems to be a shadow institution or organization within the empire, which has been manipulating the process of history behind the scenes, and the most obvious means is to influence the Inquisition and the Assassin... ...His Holiness was also attacked in the process of investigating that organization, and only saved his life after entering the Dreadnought Mecha, and began to write a question about joining the army."

"And this..."

Tubek frowned.

"I didn't know anything about it for so many years—"

"They are hidden very, very deeply, and it is estimated that only the Primarchs and a few people may know a thing or two."

"So you mean...they will cover up the Eleventh Legion?"

"Why is Soshyan here, and they're here too? Humph, can't be a coincidence? So I bet there won't be any response to leaking these things to the Empire."

"It seems that the water in here is really deep."

Tubek sighed softly.

"Friend, do you really want to go into this muddy water?"

Gar Mozejie shook his head.

"Since I know that I am a descendant of the Second Legion, it is not up to me to decide whether to go into troubled waters or not. I have already been in this huge chess game, and all I can do is to change myself from a chess piece to a chess piece. Chess player."

"Pawn, player..."

Repeating these two words, Tubek involuntarily clenched his gauntlet.

"Yes, yes, must not be a chess piece..."

Then, he looked at Gar Mozejie.

"Friend, what are you going to do next?"

"Change the gate, join the Black Legion, and find a way to get the Snow Lotus back from the White Sanctuary... Although the Legion's flagship has sunk, the Primarch still left some legacy on the edge of the galaxy, and we will also Get those things back and grow our power."

With that said, he turned to look out the viewing window, and the huge hull of the Spirit of Vengeance was slowly drifting by.

"One day the gods will bow down to us!"

Tubek smiled slightly.

"Abaddon will meet in an Eldar tomb with his brother-in-law, the war blacksmith, Baben Fak, in a little while. This man is Hon Suo's old superior. Do you want to see it?"

Gar Mozejie turned around and nodded.

"Of course."

Soon, the fleet arrived at a small world drifting in the warp. Such small worlds are very common in the etheric realm, and most of them are world fragments scattered from the Eye of Fear when the Eldar fell in the past - in the process of the birth of new gods In , it was ripped open, knocked on the bones and sucked the marrow, the life it carried was swept away, and it fell into the clutches of the warp forever.

From a distance, this small world looked like a black ball of steel dotted with silver veins, and its surface shone with a ghostly pale shimmer.

It used to have ocean forests and land, but it evaporated many years ago, leaving only the bony earth open to the void, broken arches and the remains of damaged spiritual bone structure domes occasionally visible, but these alien materials are not There is no common psionic whisper that is enough to stimulate perception, even the devil has left it, every nutrient it contains has been sucked dry, everything is cold and barren, and everything is silent.

Its cloudless sky is a splendid frenzy of color, revealing the bulk of the Warp like a string of jewels suspended in the eternal darkness.

Unnatural winds blew across the empty plains and swirled on the outer edges of the Crystal Rock towers, eerie lights gleaming in hidden nooks and reflecting on the mirror-smooth canyons below.

Those winds were the only voices in the whole world, overlapping dying whispers repeated for centuries.

But the eternal silence was broken, and ancient dust was lifted and brushed over the cracked slabs of rock.

Dozens of warships obscured the ether and stopped in the thick plume of smoke.

A dozen gunships descended toward the ground, their flanks gleaming black and gold, all adorned with the Eye of Horus.

The gunboats spread out in all directions on the plain, drawing a circular cordon around the center, an area surrounded by rows of towering stalagmites.

Where they landed, elite Terminators of the Dutch Black Legion appeared one after another, all wearing ritual cloaks and carrying heavy powered spears.

With the cordon closed, a Stormbird landed in the center.

At the steam-surrounded landing site, warped, armoured enchanted warriors strode out—the despairing messengers, these most fearsome fighters, marched with a palpable arrogance, the confident stride accustomed to dominance , like arrogant warlords roaming the land they rule.

These sane enchanted warriors always like to feature their armor, their bodies are covered with ancient totems, bones with dried blood are chained around their wrists, making a banging sound, and the shiny eye pattern on the shoulder armor grows around it. Iron thorns, layers of peeling ceramic smeared with blasphemous runes of power.

Once in place, the Messengers of Despair began to wait silently, in a rare gesture of salute.

Afterwards ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ bystanders like Gar Mozejie are eligible to land, but must stand outside the stone circle - this is a formal diplomatic occasion, so Abaddon allows his allies to watch, Even Crannon was there.

Before long, more landers landed.

They wear black gunmetal armor, made with older craftsmanship, with exposed cables and exposed reinforced armor plates.

Gar Mozeje knows the story of these marks - they were added by the first tech priests to test the power armor, and the wearer keeps them to remind anyone who sees them that it was made for war Equipment, not for boasting and show, is as cruel and practical as the people inside.

The Fourth Legion, the Iron Warriors, came out with a clanging sound from the stormbird's landing ramp, and then clunked into place, facing each other on the bone-white earth.

The two forces kept a distance of thirty meters, motionless.

But the silence lasted only ten seconds before it was broken.