Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!

"Listen - hiss, my head hurts——·

She didn't know how long she had been unconscious, but Anya Fasha moved slowly. The blood on her forehead flowed down, dyeing her deep brown eyes red, and then slowly dripped down her pointed and slender chin onto her flight jacket. .

She took off her gloves to temporarily control the sticky wound, and sat for a while before regaining her sight, but the world in her eyes was still blood-stained and not clear.

Enduring the pain that felt like a thousand needles piercing her bones, she untied the seat belt that was tightly strangling her chest, fumbled to press the brake button to open the canopy, and breathed in the fresh air despite the faint stench from the outside world. , much better than the burnt smell of electronic equipment.

The female pilot tilted her head and took off her broken flight helmet, then buckled it onto the driver's seat of the crashed Skyhawk 1. She slowly propped up her body, forcing herself to ignore the pain like needles and electric shocks, and adapt to her current body.

Then he took the emergency landing bag with him, slowly stepped on the emergency ladder on the side of the fuselage, and landed on the ground covered with fallen leaves and broken branches.

"It must be true. I saw a plane falling here from a distance before."

"Are they the puppet emperor's lackeys who are lording it over our heads?"

"Probably, if we find it, if the pilot is still alive, we will make this guy understand the price of serving the false emperor."

The Chaos rebels' Gothic conversation mixed with patois came from the trees not far away. Anya Fasha hurriedly turned her head, bowed down, crouched and hid behind the machine.

"Look, there's smoke there!"

"Will, Dunpushi, you stupid guys are back, are you blind? Go there and have a look!"

The sound of military boots crushing fallen leaves, the sound of firearms rubbing against bulletproof armor and scattered objects, and the sound of violent curses getting closer and closer.

Realizing that the crash site had been discovered, Fasha swung his numb legs again, his flying boots clicked on the grass, and he stumbled into the bushes nearby.

With her current physical condition, it would be impossible to outrun these Chaos Rebel squads in perfect condition.

She hid under a big enough tree, knelt down on one knee, opened her survival backpack and took inventory of the items.

She quickly found what she wanted, an assembled self-defense short gun, which was essentially a silenced automatic gun that was simplified and reduced in size and had a folding stock.

It can be used for hunting and defense. It uses solid ammunition and is used with a silencer, but the assembly steps are a bit cumbersome.

This was the first crash in the life of this ace pilot with thousands of flight hours.

The never-used survival kit in the cabin was regularly replaced again and again, and she would only remember that she still had it on the plane when she signed the confirmation form.

Faxia lowered her breath, and with hands trembling from soreness and fear, she assembled the survival rifle. She tried hard to squeeze her brain and recall the skills and techniques she had perfunctorily dealt with in the past. After all, she almost never considered being shot down. subsequent situation.

In other words, she didn't feel that she could really survive and use these things after being shot down.

Therefore, her usual training in assembling firearms was done casually, and her movements at this time seemed too unfamiliar.

She had no time to take into account the bitterness of regret in her heart, and her brain was thinking at full speed about how to assemble the silenced automatic gun in front of her.

"Recoil spring... Recoil spring——Ah, here it is!"

As the search came closer, her breathing became faster.

"The plane landed here! This thing is so big—"

"Where's the pilot?"

"Not in the cockpit! There is blood on the seat, he must have escaped!"

"Damn it, this guy can't run far, search!"

The rebel team leader walked around the machine body.

Suddenly, he noticed blood spots falling on the blades of grass.

That's dripping from Anya Fasha's flight jacket.

When she was unconscious, there were many small pools of blood accumulated in the folds of her flight suit. As she stood up,

These blood drops began to flow down the leather and zipper, falling on the grass blades.

The mohawk-headed team leader narrowed his eyes intelligently, raised his hand, and motioned to the two men next to him to remain silent, not to alert the enemy, and to follow him.

With clues, these rebel soldiers are like sharks in the ocean, hunting for blood.

Even though the movements were slight, Anya Fasha, who was still assembling a short gun, still detected their movements with her keen ears.

At this critical moment, she finally assembled the survival rifle and inserted the 15-round straight magazine into the chamber.

With a slight click, the bullet was loaded.

Her back was close to the big tree that was thick enough to hide an Ogryn, and she moved slightly.

Bend over and maintain an ambush stance.

Snap!

An approaching rebel soldier stepped on a branch, and the sound betrayed his exact location.

Just as the man was about to attack behind the tree, he was met head-on by the black muzzle of the female pilot's gun.

puff!

A slight sound was quickly absorbed by the layers of forest leaves and branches. The female pilot tried her best to support the body with an open mind, and then slowly lowered it to the ground without making any more unnecessary noise.

Just when Anya Fasha wanted to continue crouching and take the opportunity to escape, the alien bird above her head was frightened by the sound and flew away instinctively. The birdsong and flapping caused a small commotion.

!

The female pilot and the two other rebels searching for her were instantly alert.

Almost immediately, both parties started moving at the same time.

"There! A corpse king's bitch! Don't let that guy run away!"

The violent and excited shouts echoed throughout the forest. Fasha knelt down and ran while firing at the back to block the enemy.

The two sides used clusters of bushes to pursue and counter-pursue each other.

She pushed the bushes aside and sprinted. Fortunately, she was tall and strong, and her legs were long, so she could cross these low bushes that were in the way.

Suddenly, there was a sound of choking in front of her, and the blasphemous mark on the exposed figure instantly caught her eyes.

That was another search team.

"She's here! Catch this bitch!"

The two sides just met, and Fasha was the first to react and immediately ran to the side.

More than a dozen people chased each other in the dense forest. She, whose body had not fully recovered, was no match for these rebels. While running, her calf twitched inappropriately, which was a precursor to cramps.

She jumped and hid behind a tree again.

Fasha leaned against the tree trunk, panting heavily, and pulled the magazine from the gun to check the remaining ammunition.

There were 4 rounds left.

She inserted the magazine back into the gun, holding the gun tightly with both hands, ready to make a final desperate struggle.

Military education films have repeatedly explained how the rebels would cruelly treat captured pilots, so the Imperial Navy and the Ministry of Military Affairs only encourage crashed pilots to kill more traitors or aliens when there is no hope of escape, and then save the last bullet for themselves.

She saw a figure approaching from the corner of her eye, and Fasha suddenly stretched out the barrel of the gun from behind the tree.

Pah!

A small blood hole appeared on the forehead of the pursuing rebel soldier in an instant, and he fell into the dense forest with a plop.

The female pilot tried to rely on this thick tree to fight the enemy guerrilla warfare and try her best to delay time.

Pah!

After two shots, another enemy fell to the ground, and no enemies appeared around for the time being.

Out of consideration for the subsequent battle, she approached the corpse and prepared to seize the rebels' bullets for emergency use. In this critical moment, she didn't care about the various prohibitions on seizure.

But when she bent over to touch the corpse, another rebel rushed out of the forest, and the two of them collided fiercely.

The pistol with only the last bullet left fell to the ground, but she was not unarmed. She had an exquisite dagger hanging on her belt, the handle of which was decorated with ivory, pearls and gems, and the curve of the blade revealed a fatal beauty.

When Fasha stood up, he held the handle with his backhand, and the dagger was instantly unsheathed, revealing the wild gray blade and the warm and unrestrained Damascus steel pattern.

That was Taran's characteristic dagger, her amulet.