The Emperor’s Angel of Death

　　 Macarion walked past the flight deck of the Star Fort. The key systems of Hell’s Eyes were basically controlled by the warriors of the empire, but there were still some very key parts under the control of the Red Pirates.

　　Emergency escape zone is one of them.

　　 The two teams of astral knights respectfully and cautiously kept their distance and fired, while protecting the fearless two wings advancing, their blasting guns tore the line of the defeated enemy.

The resurrected warrior did not know their names at all, but he recognized the armors worn by some of them-the many scars that the Broken Eagle War Gang experienced and survived, he still Recognize.

　　 But the warrior in armor is no longer someone he was familiar with.

　　 For fearlessness, the biggest sorrow is that things are right and wrong.

　　The passion and enthusiasm brought about by the battle soon cooled in the immortal body, and he was now very unfamiliar with commanding these strange warriors as the star knight "Venerable".

　　 In the past, they fought because they had long forgotten hatred, and the soldiers of the Eighth Army screamed a curse that they had never issued.

　　 And now, those warriors wearing their armor are for the emperor who was once abandoned by Macarion.

　　 Dark thoughts, these dark thoughts are disturbing his mind.

　　 The feet of the fearless mecha covered in armor and claws crushed the corpse with his huge weight, and the multiple hot melt cannons on the right arm fired continuously, blasting the red pirate's defense line one after another.

　　 These people were attracted by his huge body and rushed forward desperately, just to destroy his sacred mechanical body.

　　 Maybe there is a part of his heart that wants them to succeed, but a small part, an inner area that remains dead and quiet when the battle occurs.

　　 There is no joy here. The war philosopher has never experienced joy in battle, but the pleasure of battle allows him to concentrate and concentrate on external affairs.

　　 Now, this kind of concentration has died with his original identity, just like his cold sarcophagus shell.

　　At this time, an armed servant equipped with four screaming chain saws rushed towards the fearless mecha, and Macarion grabbed it and squeezed it to pieces with the indestructible lightning claws.

When the charged power claw blade crushed the machine, the sluggish body was immediately evaporated by the flashing electric light, and then Macarion ignited the flamethrower in the center of the lightning claw, covering the semi-mechanical monster in the liquid fire. Among them, part of the flesh is roasted.

　　 The next moment, he threw the corpse into the enemy line in front, lamenting their indifference to this precision killing technique.

　　Departed Primarch, this war is really a waste of the Legion’s talents.

　　 Although it is not long, he is tired of fighting for the empire and the emperor.

　　 "Macarion."

　　 Suddenly, a voice came from the communication network.

　　 For him, it takes a lot of trouble to use the communicator correctly instead of the external loudspeaker cut to the armor, and the warming war is of no help to this.

　　 "I am Saivita."

　　 heard this name,

　　His hot melt gun has turned a red pirate into slag, and the remaining part falls apart into the crowd.

　　 "A company commander, shouldn't you be here too? Wouldn't you call me up just to kill everyone for you?"

　　 "Macarion, it's time to go. You now turn to Area 1-17. There is a Thunder Eagle there. We are waiting for you there."

　　 "We? Who else?"

　　 "Malek them."

Before the words fell silent, the pain penetrated his body like a ghost accompanied by a sorrow and grief. Macarion’s real body was thinking in the liquid-filled container, and he felt the silky secretions covering his face. Nerve pain washed through his pale stump.

The red pirate who tried to stab the chain saw into the knee joint of the Dreadnought Mecha was quickly hammered into a mess. Macarion rotated his axis and the lightning claws straightened. Several red pirates who tried to attack were immediately knocked back. Among their companions, and torn to pieces.

　　 "Where are we going?"

　　 Macarion roared, his pain surfaced on the communication network.

　　 "Sai, now you make me feel very strange, you have too many secrets, like the original body tortured by illusions, I can't see you anymore."

　　 "Ha, Macarion, it's like you could see me through before, we're going to—"

　　 When the next few words were spoken, Macarion's mechanical body froze, allowing the enemy to beat his iron coffin with weak fire.

　　 "Are you sure?"

　　 "It's true."

　　 "What about these astral knights?"

　　 Macarion bent his lightning claws in an arc and placed it in front of him, ejecting a wall of fire from the flame emitter, and the two teams next to him pushed forward with blaster guns and swords under his protection.

　　 The enemies in the emergency escape zone soon collapsed and began to flee, fighting for the right to use the last few shuttles.

　　 Some red pirates even pointed their guns at their companions who had just been fighting side by side.

After 　　, the Dreadnought Mecha slowed down, slowly.

　　 He turned around and watched.

　　 noises surround him, the noises that have been hidden by the rotation of his joints and the roar of weapons.

　　 The physical bullet hit his shell like a rainstorm.

　　 "They have the ability to clean up this endgame."

　　 "But they are about to face Huron."

　　 The power furnace of the Dreadnought Mecha roared louder when Macarion re-engaged with the enemy, and the loudspeaker on his shell made a loud noise when he roared with Nastromwen.

　　 "If he can't even solve Huron, then he is not qualified to be that... Don't worry, they can at least retreat completely, time is running out, so let's evacuate."

　　 "What tools do we use to leave?"

　　 "There is a paralyzed pirate plundering ship nearby. I have a way to make it move again."

　　 "Okay, I'll come right away."

　　 Just as the elite of the Eighth Army left the battlefield quietly, Malakin on the Mother of Tears was already in a dilemma.

　　 The enemy’s firepower is strengthening, and most of its capital ships have been damaged.

　　 Distracted, the Watcher of the Abyss turned his head to face a mortal crew member whose name he had no intention of remembering.

　　 "The status of the reorganization of the flight squadron?"

　　 The officer in an outdated military uniform stood upright and confirmed the display control panel.

"Bloodwing Squadron has a battle loss rate of more than 60%, and Golden Spear Squadron has a battle loss rate of more than 70%. Only Baal's Light Squadron has a battle loss rate near the 40% red line. At present, the squadrons have been reorganized and can be deployed again. Two rounds."

　　 Malakin moved forward, making a sound of rubbing his armor.

　　 "Why is the battle loss rate so high?"

　　 "Confirming, my lord."

　　 The officer picked up the microphone pinned to his jacket.

　　 "This is the command deck, now please—"

　　 Malakin never understood how mortals’ fears were displayed. He just watched the officer’s face turn pale, and his heartbeat became louder and faster like a drum.

　　 Obviously, it's bad news, or bad news that mortals don't want to tell.

　　 "Some combat aircraft pursued too deeply and entered the enemy's air defense firepower net. Your lord, the flight commander is...correcting."

　　 "Order them to stop attacking, immediately."

　　 The officer delivered the order, and when he listened to the reply, he swallowed his mouth and wanted to speak.

　　 The response from the flight control center was swift and fierce, and the mortal decided not to tell the battle commander some parts of it.

　　 Suddenly, another voice was inserted.

"grown ups."

　　 Malakin turned his head, surprised at the rising uncomfortableness of the mortal's kiss ~www.readwn.com~ said. "

　　 "The Soshyan Commander wants to talk to you directly, saying it is the most urgent event."

　　 "Open the channel."

　　 "Brother Malakin."

　　 Soshyan's voice echoed on the bridge.

　　 "We have taken control of Starcastle."

　　 "The emperor is here."

　　 A golden marathon took a sip. Although there were various accidents in time, it was only the plan that followed the steps.

　　 "Brother Malakin, now you have to make way for Huron."

　　 Malakin pursed his lips when he heard Soshyan's words.

　　 Of course he knows what the next step of the plan is.

　　 "Brother Soshyan, I hope I can participate in the last step, and I will hand over the command to Brother Lothar."

　　 "Understood, Brother Malakin, I promise, Huron is yours."

　　 "Thank you very much."

　　 After the communication was closed, Malakin took a deep breath, and gently pressed the **** wide blade on his waist with his slightly trembling palm because of his excitement.

　　 "Huron...Before I come, don't you die."

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