The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Mahamadou Christine was in one of the twenty Thunderhawk gunboats on the Ruthless Destroyer.

It is a charcoal-black beast with a thick silhouette covered with spikes. The surly and aging machine spirit grumbles in its body like a trapped animal.

The huge turbine is under the pressure of the dry wind on the planet as it descends, swaying and tilting in the turbulence.

Mahamadu has always disliked reckless actions.

If he were one of the bloodthirsty berserkers of the Abaddon Hound group, he would now yell and wield a blood-stained blade in preparation for the massacre.

However, he is a steel warrior who likes to be down-to-earth and fight steadily so that he can carefully consider how to attack the enemy swiftly.

The other people in the battle crew cabin had the same idea. Etienne Moss and his Terminators, as well as everyone in the war gang, were silent.

Lei Ying shook, suddenly banged, the engine thundered, but they still closed their mouths tightly.

They originally belonged to the Iron Warrior Legion, a dull and meaningless world of demons, serving the Demon Primarch that they had barely met, but now they are a member of the Black Legion.

Many people deliberately took this to sarcastic him, but Mahamadu rarely refuted or explained, because no one could understand a steel warrior.

Recast in shame and shadow, reborn in black iron and gold——

The steel warrior meditated on the instructions of the Black Legion.

He understands the feeling that a person hates himself. Nothing can be more fanatical than those regiments who have converted to the dark gods, but in fact, Mahamadu has never really believed in it. He only has a desire for power and only wants to use it. These gifts become more powerful.

Mahamadu never cared about his beliefs, he just wanted to take revenge on the past that he had become blurred, and to dominate the species that he had severed all contact with.

This is about dignity, even though the legion he is in now no longer understands this concept.

Sometimes, he also wondered whether he had chosen the right traitor camp.

The thunder eagle roared and began to land, the oil-stained warning light came on, Mahamadu heard the roar of the buffer deceleration engine, and the direction of the power changed accordingly.

He stretched out his hand to hold the iron chain link to stabilize himself, and soon Lei Ying fell heavily on the land of another world.

Etienne growled like an animal. In this small space, the blacksmith is like a dragon coiling in a cave, spraying steam from the sides of the helmet.

When the hatch creaked open, the soldiers began to move, stepping into the hurricane full of dust and organic matter.

Etienne was the last to come out. He temporarily put away the chainsaw sword, let the wind dry the rough surface of his body, and evaporate the moisture accumulated in the damp interior of Thunderhawk.

They landed in a garbage dump, surrounded by some imperial facilities. They were arranged in every world of the galaxy according to ruthless and unimaginative standards. They were ordinary and lacklustre.

The underpowered lights flickered faintly in the strong wind, and Mahamadu already knew that this would be a boring killing.

He creaked towards the entrance and Etienne moved in the other direction.

While beating, they unscrewed the reinforced steel bolts and pushed the door panel open.

The steel warrior marched along a narrow corridor, and dust accompanied him in, falling from his knees, and piled up on the plastic-steel wall panels.

Soon, he saw the residents here and was carefully spying on himself.

They glanced at him, showing disbelief for a moment, and then ran away.

Mahamadou followed them in no hurry, and stomped heavily on the floor. He heard screams in the distance, guessing that it was Etienne's work.

Not far away, more Thunder Eagles were landing, four or five, and the howling of the Sadomasochist warrior was heard, which was enough.

Attica is just a poor little place, not worth the effort of the Black Legion.

They don't even understand why they want to attack the world, because there is nothing worth plundering here.

But Zhan Shuai's decision is beyond doubt.

Mahamadou stomped to a place that seemed to be the command center and broke in easily.

There are hundreds of humans in it, some of them holding weapons, and they are all terrified.

Then the steel warrior began to work.

The laser flickered on his scratched black armor, slightly burning the patina on the surface.

Without firing a gun, Mahamadou reached out and grabbed the man who was in front of him, grabbed the man and broke his back.

The next person smashed his eye sockets with a light slap, and even Mahamadu had to slam down again to stop the creature from twisting in pain.

The glove full of barbs quickly turned into a **** murder weapon.

He has been idle for too long on the Ruthless Destroyer, and needs to stretch his atrophied muscles.

Soon, he stared at a woman in uniform, her slender thighs covered with stockings, she looked pretty pretty.

She struggled to stay away from him, her whole body exuded an aura of fear, but she still held a laser gun firmly and fired firmly at him.

After a few shots, Mahamadou began to feel annoyed.

He suddenly accelerated and rushed to her at an incredible speed ~www.readwn.com~, ignoring her attack, and choked her throat.

"Go away!"

The woman screamed.

Mahamadou hesitated for a moment, and was suddenly amused.

"Fuck... Open?"

"Go away!"

This is ridiculous. The woman turned pale with fright, waving her limbs and slapping the steel warrior, as if he were a pest under her bed.

This behavior only put a smile on his scarred and weather-beaten face.

"Speak louder, squeeze your throat and call for help."

This is what he really wants. Send a message and call in an army worth challenging.

Instead, she shot him again-she still had a gun in her hand.

The shot hit Mahamadu's neck, and the steel warrior laughed loudly, grabbed the opponent's hair, and smashed the person against one side of the wall, smashing into flesh and blood.

Looking at the blood-stained scalp in his hands, Mahamadu felt a little sadistic pleasure.

Then he was like a shepherd, lazily whipping the rest of the flock, and the screams began to numb his ears.

"War blacksmith!"

He called while killing, not knowing if Etienne could hear it.

"Is there anything worth killing?"

"Only weak pigs and dogs!"

The fervent voice of the war blacksmith came.

"too boring."

The steel warrior shook his head and walked to the last person standing.

"I don't think we can stay here long."

The rest of the steel warriors were scattered among the cluttered outlying buildings and facilities, undisciplined carrying out their killing plans, standing in the smoky and dusty winds of Attica at night looking out, only a vague and silent scene.

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