The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Leaving the assembly hall, they soon arrived at the command spire of the fortress and headed to the room of the captain Randall Blanchard.

　　 In the wide corridor leading to the room, there are many broken weapons lined up, and there are some warriors called Desolate Guards.

　　 When he heard this name, Soshyan had already confirmed that the White Temple, like the Astral Knights, was the heir of the Eleventh Legion.

　　 These ornately decorated veterans wore terminator armor and guarded key positions. There was a conspicuous black minaret coat of arms on the left shoulder armor, which was also one of the symbols of the Eleventh Army that Soshyan was familiar with.

　　 "The captain of the battle group hopes to meet with you alone."

　　 At the end of the corridor are two huge bronze gates. After Muthari paused and whispered, he looked at the expression on Soshyang’s face.

　　 "Talos, you are waiting outside."

　　 Talos nodded and stayed outside with Soshyan's guard.

　　 When Soshyang walked into the room, there was a faint click, and the two bronze doors closed automatically.

　　The other pair of identical gates are closed tightly in front of the house.

　　 Soshyang looked around and found that the environment here is very comfortable, the air is cool and clean, seeping through the shutters, and even the lazy gurgling sound of the fountain in the courtyard outside can be heard.

　　 There is a huge table in the middle of the room, on which is placed a kettle, a towel and a crystal-cut glass, shining in the soft light.

　　 Soshyang didn't move, but kept the posture of standing in front of the door.

　　 He watched the sun shine through the blinds, smelled the fragrance of wood and fabric like flowers, and listened to the music played gently by the fountain.

Through the window, he could see a majestic fortress made of rock, adamantine and steel spreading to the surroundings. The minaret, the observatory and the weapon tower pushed each other together, the missile array and the slot of the bunker were squeezed in the middle of the colonnade. Also used to commemorate the pride and embrace of mankind

　　 negative polished monument, all this is displayed under the blue sky of the sanctuary star.

　　 Soshyang stood quietly, listening to the soft sound of water, and calmly recalled the doubts and confusions in all these things.

　　 "I'm sorry to keep you waiting for a long time, but there just happens to be something to deal with."

　　 Suddenly, there was a voice, quite soft, with a sizzling sound.

　　 Soshyang woke up from his meditation. He couldn't see the speaker, but saw that the second door had been opened. He didn't notice when they were unlocked. The mechanical structure inside must be very smooth.

　　 Through the door, he entered a large, sunny room.

　　 A whole wall was replaced by seamless glass, and the mountains shattered the horizon in the distance, shining white light in the sunlight.

The ground is covered with polished wooden floors, and various weapon racks and bookshelves are dotted in the cave-like interior-which makes Soshyang feel weird. The combination of a collector’s study and an armory is full of contradictions. .

　　 The room was very quiet, the door closed behind him, as quiet and elegant as when it was just opened.

　　 Soshyang stayed on the spot, standing for a while, listening to his breathing, thinking whether what he saw around him was real.

　　 "I hope I won't surprise you with how I look now."

　　 I don't know where the sound came from, Soshyan turned around and scanned the room.

　　'S voice sounded like it was ringing in the air in his ears, echoing on the panels, sinking into the fabric of the woven carpet—sorrowful tone, rich in tone, but a little hoarse.

　　 Then, Randal slowly stepped out from behind the bookshelf.

　　 He was not much different eight years ago. He is still tall and tall without wearing power armor, but his left arm has become a mechanical arm, and his face seems to have two scars.

　　 Soshyang settled down.

　　 "Brother Randall, your hand—"

　　 As soon as he spoke, he felt stiff and stupid.

　　Randall didn't answer, he just smiled, Soshyang noticed the other's eyes, full of vitality-deep, like torch, almost as sharp as the eyes of a bird.

　　 Those eyes stared at Soshyang for a long time.

　　 "I was not lucky enough to be bitten by something, but I was lucky to be missing an arm."

　　 Then, Randal walked to a huge sofa and sat on it.

　　 His movements are a bit staggering, like a man who has been trained to reach the peak of his natural limit, but has suffered serious injuries. This seems a little weird.

　　 Then he leaned back, his gray face was slightly smoother, and his tight expression relaxed.

　　 "Sit down."

　　 Soshyan did, and walked to a huge chair across from the sofa.

　　 "Do you want to drink a little?"

　　 Randall asked, and glanced at the glass bottle on the table between them, which was a clear liquid.

　　 But Soshyang is not a person who is addicted to alcohol, not to mention that he really has no interest in this strange place, so he shook his head and said:

"No thanks."

　　 The captain of the White Temple smiled and poured himself a glass of what looked like wine.

　　 Then, he raised the wine glass to his nose and let the smell linger for a while.

　　 "I grew up on Sanctuary Star. This world seems to be useless to many people, but this wine is a very popular trade item."

　　 He said, took a sip from the cup, whirled in his mouth, and swallowed.

　　 "But even though it is quite famous in the galaxy, the Sanctuary Star is still worthless to most people."

　　Randall pursed his thick lips, thinking.

　　 "Like our abandoned legion."

　　 He said, his eyes sharpened suddenly, like a bird of prey without hesitation.

　　 "Everyone knows that it was once important~www.wuxiahere.com~ but everyone thinks it is worthless."

　　 Soshyang did not appear surprised, he looked at each other, and then poured himself a glass.

　　 This is a distilled liquor, but it is not spicy, it is very moist.

　　 "Who are you?"

　　 Putting down the wine glass, Soshyang asked softly.

　　 Randall responded with a smile.

　　 "I am the captain of the White Temple."

　　 "That's it?"

　　 "What else do you want to hear?"

　　 Soshyang hesitated for a moment, he didn't know whether he should report his name, but the opponent is also the inheritance of the Eleventh Legion, and depending on the situation, the history may be longer than the Astral Knights.

　　 In the end, he decided not to talk about it first, so he changed the question:

　　 "How did you keep the past history?"

　　 "Because one person, one order,"

　　 "Who can disobey the emperor's order?"

　　 Randall, who was trapped in the sofa, drank the contents of the cup, then held the cup in both hands, exhaled a mouthful of alcohol-containing breath with trembling lips, and whispered:

　　 "Imperial Prime Minister, Tyra Regent, Handprinter, Mageweave Makado."