The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Although the main green-skin forces of Fran have been defeated long ago, their remnants are still stubbornly resisting under the dead planet.

Malakin's idea is very simple, he will kill every green skin in this world in order to achieve their salvation.

And most of the time, he will personally command the battle on the front line.

Under his command, every Weeper warrior knew his mission, and his actions were elevated to a more subtle level.

In front of him, the greenskins expressed hesitation and bound their feet-their roars were dumb, their heavy blows were deflected, and their tenacity was melted away.

As the **** broadsword flew up and down, the alien blood had wrapped the heavy blade in a blood coat, and the battle group was invincible, pointing straight to the center of the green-skinned underground network.

"Abyss Watcher," as the soldiers called him.

This gloomy nickname originated from the deep sadness and resentment in Malakin's heart, and this sadness and resentment came from the rough experience of the battle group.

When the soldiers felt his state of mind, they would become extremely cruel and almost suicidal, rushing to the forefront. Too much suffering made the battle group gradually become worshipping death and sacrifice.

Even so, the first thing they have to do is to destroy the enemy.

On this day, the weepers finally found the last underground fortress in Greenskin, and they have been searching for it for several months.

The ground around the soldiers shook due to the high temperature, and the walls themselves glowed gloomy red.

Magma sprayed from the restless surface of the wide lake of fire, splashing on the stalactites protruding from the high roof, and there was only one path across the purgatory—a reflective rock belt ten meters wide and a hundred meters long, like An uncoordinated queue was thrown from the mixer below.

The mountain road is flat and wide, climbing all the way to the last gate-the entrance to the innermost fortress of the entire underground complex.

The greenskins gathered in front of the gate in droves, knowing that this was their last battle.

They gathered in front of the heavy stone piers, and each pier was decorated with their strange and rugged gods. These alien skins were almost black under the scorching flames.

This is the largest group of their kind, and now they are throwing into the fight with rage, roaring with uncontrollable belligerence.

Just in the middle of the causeway, the heavy-loaded big guys broke into the queue of the weepers, and a close fight began.

At the same time, a vortex made up of ammunition and energy weapons whizzed out from under the huge door lintel, spraying death towards the magma gushing below.

The crying elites fight with the oncoming waves of aliens. Malakin personally confronts a giant beast in heavy armor. They fought together at the top of the mountain's mouth, and the two giants were jumping. Fighting violently in the flames.

This only lasted about ten seconds.

"dead!!"

Malakin roared, and the **** broad sword drew an arc, and then the huge green-skinned head flew high and landed in the magma.

Afterwards, the headless body fell to the ground, triggering a small earthquake.

Malakin stepped out of the battle, staring at the violent fire waves, his cloak crackling in the violent strong wind.

The body of the green-skinned boss was swallowed in the gust of wind, burned, and finally turned into ashes.

Then Malakin raised his head. Although the surrounding purgatory was still burning, everyone was enveloped by a murderous aura that penetrated into the soul.

He only said three words, and the voice suddenly became empty and desolate.

"follow me."

Then he moved forward alone, his behavior changed from luxurious to night-like horror.

Malakin waved his knife gloomily, cutting the air like a whispered wind, bringing up arcs of turbid liquid.

The greenskins flinched, the roar was swallowed back to their throats, and the bluff suddenly became cautious.

Malakin continued to kill. He rushed into the formation, first releasing his heavy swing, and then accelerating, faster and faster, more and more fierce, until he entered a state similar to black anger.

For the heirs of the holy blood angels, as soon as they enter this state, there is almost no deviation between intentions and actions, and revenge has become a living thing with both extensions and connotations.

Under the envelope of irresistible revenge, the holy blood angel caught in black anger will slaughter everything in front of him.

The black anger comes from San Giles, the original body of the Holy Blood Angel. When he was killed by Horus on the Vengeful Soul, the great pain left a strong psionic mark on his legion.

When this mark is activated, the holy blood angels will fall into a real illusion. They will become the echo of the former gene father on the soul of vengeance. They will regard themselves as dying angels, and everything in front of them should be destroyed. Enemy.

The holy blood angel in this state is almost uncontrollable, so Black Fury has also become a terrible curse for the noble angels.

But the Weeper is an exception, this is an ancient secret of their battle group.

Their ancestors defeated Black Fury by some means, and there are very few fighters who can use the power of Black Fury in a rational state.

Malakin is one of them.

If he used to kill freely, then it is now a complete slaughter, almost breaking the boundary between divine and demonic.

Even the Astartes who have been on the battlefield and have long been accustomed to hysterical violence are silent about this.

In the blink of an eye, hundreds of aliens fell under his knife.

The alien weapon can't reach him at all.

They looked up at him, and then they were swept away, even if they wanted to parry and evade, they still fell like a knife cutting wheat.

Some of the non-green skins tried to fight together, but were torn into whimpering pieces.

Malakin rushed through the herd, spreading a **** path around him, killing like a ghost in endless darkness, silent like a tombstone, and biting like a night wind.

After a minute, it was almost difficult to see Malakin's figure.

He hid behind a drapery of cut meat and splashing blood, a primitive force burned in the alien team, dark and magnificent.

In the entire battle, the greenskins tried to escape for the first time, trying to escape from the hungry yellow demon.

But they have no space, no time, and no hope.

Most of them were caught when they turned around, cut from their backs, and their necks severed.

A few managed to return to the gate, huddled and shivered in the shadow of the larger monster, which was made by their warlord.

The green-skinned warlord shuffled and staggered back into the door, assuming an attitude of desperately trying to the end.

But its trembling power claws betrayed its heart.

Afterwards, Malakin walked past the edge of the gate, and none of the green skins had just come out to stop him.

Soon, there were alien screams coming from the other side of the door, one after another, cascading repeatedly, suffocating.

This chorus of horror and panic continued ~www.readwn.com~ without any relief.

Ten minutes later, a soldier of the weeping man slowly approached the gate, his boots creaking on the corpse road.

When he approached, Malakin appeared again.

The yellow armor has been soaked in blood, and thick, alien blood is ticking from each layer of armor and the sides of the armor.

His cloak was shattered, and the blade became a stream of alien blood, but he was still standing with his head high, the feeling of killing has disappeared, leaving only numbness.

After a few seconds, they looked at each other, their faces were covered by helmets.

Heat waves burned around them.

After a moment of silence, Malakin stretched his hand to his neck guard and took off his helmet, revealing some thin cheeks.

His eyes gleamed dimly, as if the flash of some evil power was still lingering, even if the reason for its existence had disappeared, he still clung to the soul.

The use of the power of black anger is not without cost, the deep sorrow and despair before the original body's death will still haunt him.

"Team commander, is it over?"

The soldier asked softly.

"We just received a message on the track."

Malakin walked swayingly, locking the helmet to the armor, blood was still flowing all over him, and now he was as fresh as the angel San Giles, although not as beautiful as that.

After calming down a little bit, Malakin nodded, retracting the knife into its sheath.

"It's over here, what's the news?"

"Information from the Astral Whisperer, the Astral Knight's Soshyan Commander invites you to meet at Nathan Four."