The Emperor’s Angel of Death

"I am a fighter, and I will not disobey the command of the captain!"

Sarpedon said loudly, his voice echoing in the empty meditation room, and an illusion floated in front of him, flashing above the burning body of an Astral Whisperer.

It was also a tall figure in golden armor, but his eyes looked extremely hollow, and the armor’s exhaust holes kept emitting smoke and hissing. One hand was a power claw, and the other was burning. Long sword.

This is the image of the sacred emperor.

Looking at each other, Salperdon's skin tingled faintly, and sweat gushed out.

On the floor, the swollen Star Whisperer's body twitched and blisters emerged from the epidermis. It would not survive-although it was a waste, it was helpless.

Subspace gives think tanks many powers, including navigation and communication in distant space.

Although navigators still have to rely on navigators to guide most ships, as well as the use of Star Whisperers to send messages to scattered forces, the ingenious skills and mysterious ideas of the think tank make it more precise.

Even through some dark means, they can enable ships to pass through storms that can smash the most powerful fleet, and can communicate across galaxies as clear as talking in the same room.

However, just like the power possessed by all creatures involved in subspace, all of this comes at a price.

Salperdon originally despised this way, but the situation forced him to use this method.

Before the heart and soul fire were split, the person lying on the ground was a Star Whisperer.

Now, his soul is combined with subspace creatures, which allows Sarpedon to find help in subspace.

But this kind of contact will cost blood and lives, and in many cases, these creatures will not be able to achieve the goal.

On this evening, he had already killed three Star Whispers.

"I just need you to help me find the spirit spear. Only when I find that thing, can I explain it to the commander."

Salperdon leaned on his chainsaw sword, his armor trembling slightly.

"I am the messenger of fate, and your destiny is in my eyes. If you do not resist, you and your comrades will all be destroyed by the running dogs of the Lord of Carrion."

"With empty mouth and white teeth, blatant words, twisters."

"Haha, look at you, Sarperdon, you have served in the battle group for five hundred years, but you must obey the command of a rookie who doesn't understand the mission and vision of the soul drinker at all!"

The creation quickly changed its tone.

"The empire is completely decayed. You know this deeply. Gorge is just a conservative person who blindly follows the vows of the past. He will only make the battle group vulgar and weak, but you can make the battle group stronger. , You should become the real master of the battle group! You should enjoy real honor!"

"Shut up, devil, you are just a flatterer. Tell me what I want to know. Only when the decision comes from the owner and not his dog can it be called honor."

"The soul spear is on a spacecraft Brokeback, it's not far from you."

"Tell me the specific direction."

"You haven't offered a real sacrifice yet--"

"and many more!"

The opponent disappeared so fast that Sarpedon could only see the vague afterimage.

In the blink of an eye, the image disappeared, leaving only the smell of sulfur and caramel tumbling in the air.

The Star Whisperer on the ground began to twist violently, and then his body burst, and a lot of blood poured out of the blind man's mouth.

A high-pitched wailing sounded in Salperdon's mind. He stared at the empty front for a while, then drew out the explosive pistol and fired a shot.

Suddenly, the pieces of meat and bones splashed around, and the air quieted down.

"Waste these materials so casually."

A mumble sound came from behind.

"Explains something."

Salperdon turned around, didn't put down the gun in his hand, his eyes locked on the target all at once.

He may be a little angry, but after all, he is still a vulgar person, with no extra movements, only fingers on the trigger.

"What does it say?"

Salperton asked.

Under the black cloak, a pale skull stared at Marrogust, and slowly rotated as he aimed and stabilized the finger on the trigger.

"Maybe it says you are kind."

Behind the skull, a voice answered with a little playfulness.

"Then how did you get in."

Salperdon spoke slowly, like chatting in the afternoon.

The figure approached silently, it was very high, and the large number of skulls on the armor surface made it feel like Sarpedon, but he did not give up aiming.

"It may mean you are angry."

"Answer me, Ektinos, otherwise I will tear you to pieces and throw you into space."

"Maybe it means you are cruel."

Salperdon's fingers were tightened, and the inside of the blasting pistol, the ignition device could be fired at any time.

"Don't provoke me, pastor."

"It said, if it is useless, I will discard it."

The chief priest of the soul drinker, the holy lord of the warband, Iktinos tilted his head.

"Is that so? I will write it down for authenticity analysis."

Although Sarperdon knew him, Iktinos always made him unable to bear it and wanted to burn the **** to death on the spot.

Unlike most pastors, he is too emotional, too secretive, and too disturbing.

"How did you get into this room."

"As the spiritual representative of the battle group, I can go anywhere."

"Not here."

"As long as there is a place where there are brothers in the band, I can go."

Iktinos tilted his head.

"However, if my intrusion brings you emotional discomfort, I will apologize to you and restore your mood to balance."

Salperdon lowered his arms, took a deep breath, calming his mind.

For think tanks, anger has its uses, and all emotions have corresponding uses.

No matter how much his instinct wants to kill the priest, he can't do it.

As Iketinos preached, he is the spiritual symbol of the battle group and the caretaker of the souls of the fighting brothers.

Sarperdon knew nothing about the real him, but he could perceive the taste of subspace in him.

He can't kill him, he can't kill himself, if both of them want to try, there is no doubt that it will trigger a civil war in the battle group.

And the danger of the first civil war is looming.

"What can you do with me?"

Salperton intends to change a topic that will make him less excited.

"The Star Whisperer has received the message from our battle group commander for five days, how do you plan to respond?"

Behind his calm face, Sarpedon had many thoughts in his mind, but what can be confirmed is that not many people know about it.

"This matter has nothing to do with you."

"No, it has something to do with us. I will pay close attention to it."

"He is the commander of the battle group, and his orders are above all else."

"So you're going to catch it with your hands?"

Iketinos pulled his hood on and walked towards the place where the smoke was condensed, where the remains of the Star Whisperer lay down.

"Your words ~www.readwn.com~ are not complete. You don't really think our action is wrong, do you?"

"Wrong or not is up to Golgri."

Salperdon didn't care, and met the gaze of the skull visor opposite.

"You can retire now. I still have work to do. The sightseeing is over. You'd better say hello before you come."

The priest paused for a second, then slowly disappeared into the dark entrance.

"Warriors are not blind, Sarperdon, you have everyone's hope on your shoulders, you should..."

Iktynorston paused, apparently considering it.

"Make the right choice."

Then he left the meditation room.

"I--"

Salperdon muttered to himself as the door closed.

"Yes it is."