The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Chapter 397: The Secret of the Spirit Race (Part 1)

As the highest priority target, Dieterian’s shuttle is the first escape device to leave the Echo of the Destroying Curse.

Slaves and bishops, as well as 24 servants and crew members in robes, are watching holographic projections that serve as tactical maps and eyeball displays.

Unlike the holographic image of the Echo, Dietrian's image flickered watery from time to time, making Septimus's naked eyes painful.

Fortunately, after his bionic device started to operate, the pain disappeared, and it also helped to resolve some flickering interference.

Only then did Septims realize that this was a designed projection that could be seen by false eyes.

The ship is round and round, like a puffy beetle, but it is covered with defensive turrets, and almost three-quarters of its length is given to the drive engine and the subspace engine.

The bulkhead separated these areas of the spacecraft from the habitable area, and Septims saw several mechanical priests entering and leaving the engine deck wearing ventilation masks.

The whole ship was squeezed madly.

In order to make room for the ship’s armor, weapon system and propulsion system, each tunnel is a narrow aisle, and each cabin is a short box with basic systems and enough space for an operator. use.

The command deck is the most spacious place in the entire ship, and even so, if there are eight people present at the same time, there is no more place to move.

Septims watched the ship’s identifier beating on an asteroid, which was hidden here to avoid alien scanning.

On that flashing watermark screen, the rune that represents the echo is just a small dot in a pile of angry signals.

"The Echo is coming soon, and they will succeed."

Septims had just finished speaking, when he heard footsteps behind him, he turned his head.

Pharmacist Valer came in, his armor joints making noises with every movement.

"Tell me what happened."

The pharmacist asked,-calm as always.

"The Spirit Race doesn't seem to know that we are here."

Septims' eyes returned to the holographic screen.

"I'm not asking the spirit race, tell me about the echo of the curse, stupid mortal."

Septims smiled graciously to cover up his embarrassment, after all, his mistake was too obvious.

"They will succeed, Lord Valer."

The pharmacist has no sense of the use of honorifics, just like Septimus has used honorifics many times or has never used honorifics. Such things have no meaning to him.

Valer knows what Septims is talking about as success.

The Echo of the Curse is inevitable death.

"Shall I assume that we are leaving soon?"

The pharmacist turned to the mechanical bishop and asked softly.

Dietrian nodded, trying to imitate the movement of humans around his neck.

But the design of the neck did not bend in this subtle way. Something was locked at the top of his spine, and he had to take some time to relax the spine connection.

"Said."

Valer walked to where Septimus was standing and observed the hologram for himself.

"what is that?"

He pointed to another rune symbol.

"That one……"

Septims walked to the helmsman's console and tapped a few buttons to adjust the holographic display.

"...It's the orbital defense station of the Empire."

Valer didn't speak, which was not surprising to Septims.

The pharmacist's light blue eyes blinked, and when he looked at the holographic image of the broken orbital station, the curse echo was already close at hand.

He leaned down to enlarge the picture.

"This is a particularly satisfying killing."

"Yes, my lord."

Valer glanced at Septimus with those restless eyes.

After serving in the Eighth Army for nearly ten years, Septimus often thinks that nothing can shake his courage anymore, but it seems that Valer's eyes seem to be a rare exception.

"what happened to you?"

The pharmacist asked.

"Your heart rate is speeding up, and you are exuding-low-energy excitement."

Septims tilted his head to the screen.

"I spent most of my adult life playing for the Legion. Without these, I don't even know who I am."

"Yes, yes, it's fascinating."

The pharmacist turned to Dieterian again.

"Machine Bishop, there is one thing that can relieve my boredom. I want to listen to the communication of the Spirit Race. Can you intrude into their signals?"

"Of course."

Dietrian unfolded his two auxiliary legs, letting them arch over his shoulders to work on a separate console.

"But I don't have the ability to translate the pronunciation of the spirit language."

This caused Valler's laughter.

"Really? I thought you would be smarter."

"- The mechanical bishop has more urgent things to deal with than the hapless alien muttering to himself, this kind of funny tricks."

"There is no need to be angry."

Valer gave a short smile, albeit fake.

"I can speak several spiritual dialects, if I can, just listen to the signal."

Before pulling the last lever, Dieterian paused.

"Can you explain-your mastery of foreign languages."

"There is nothing to explain, honorable bishop. I don't like ignorance. I will seize it when there is an opportunity for learning."

He looked at the mechanical cultist in long robes.

"Do you think the red pirates only fight against corrupt empires? No, we have fought against the spirit race countless times, and there are no prisoners in the middle. Guess who obtained information from them through torture."

"I understand."

Dietrian accepted the answer and tried to nod pretend again.

His spine is made of various precious metals, plus pieces of ceramics, making a clicking sound with movement.

When Dietrian held the joystick, the bridge was immediately flooded with alien whispers, and was distorted by the distorted crackling sound.

Valer said a word of thanks, then turned his attention back to the holographic screen.

Septims stood with him, his attention alternated between the gradual battle and Valle's pale face.

"Stop looking at me."

Valer's time passed-talked about it in a minute.

"You are getting more and more annoying."

"I'm sorry, my lord, but what are the spirits talking about?"

Valle listened for another half minute, and didn't seem to care too much.

"They talked in three-dimensional space and compared the actions of warships to ghosts and beasts in the sea. All this is very poetic, but unremarkable and worthless. There have been no reports of casualties, and there is no spirit captain on them. The scream of the lost soul."

Septims suddenly understood what Valler was really listening to ~www.wuxiahere.com~ The First Claw was right, Valler was indeed a member of the Eighth Army, no matter where his genetic seed came from.

"wait."

The pharmacist suddenly murmured, then fell silent again.

The background was still filled with the whispers of the spirit race, Septims took a breath and asked:

"They are—"

Valer glared at him-eyes calmed him down, and the pharmacist's pale eyes narrowed-watching intently.

The mechanical bishop folded his arms across his chest and waited, hoping for an explanation, but hardly expected it.

"and so on."

Valier finally spoke, and he closed his eyes to better focus on the alien's words.

"Something is wrong."

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