40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 587 105 Dark Expedition (Twenty-nine)

Chapter 587 105. Dark Crusade (Twenty-nine)

War, war

Holding the chainsaw halberd, Sevatar suddenly remembered a theory. Although he was in the terrifying sea of ​​clouds formed by crows, the memory carrying this theory was still clear.

It naturally emerged rapidly from the depths of Sevatar's crazy and chaotic mind, and finally appeared in front of him.

He saw a familiar face, a face belonging to an old friend.

Alas, you old thing. He laughed dumbly.

Belros von Sharp ignored his smile and just said: "Sometimes, I feel that war is terrible."

The old recorder shook his head, his hands were full of blood, and the smoke mixed with the smell of blood blew past, blowing the pieces of meat stuck between his still thick black hair.

The blood god did not answer, but just laughed wildly.

And he himself was unaware of this, just threw down the grenade launcher in his hand. This high-quality weapon, born in a Martian factory, fell into a pool of blood with a snap and slowly sank into it.

The narrator sat down tiredly, letting the river of blood cover his waist. He just closed his eyes and breathed calmly. Breath-in, breath-in, over and over again.

Its owner just sneered, his pale face full of sarcasm, without any complacency about the execution of justice.

Sevatar didn't know whether these two troublesome evil gods had joined forces, but he knew another thing, that is, what kind of path the fake was embarking on.

He felt the sudden increase in power indifferently, and then raised his arm and threw the chain saw halberd as a javelin.

And how many people's blood was needed to promote and forge this change?

After thinking for a moment, the eldest son of the night simply dispersed the ash wings behind him and began to fall to the ground.

Sevatar looked at him helplessly, and threw the demonized weapon in his hand into the pile of corpses not far away.

Besides, he has always been a democratic person.

Besides, it doesn't matter at all. It will come back as long as you wave your hand. However, he didn't expect that his behavior would make the Supreme Grand Master even more angry.

"The great Yago Sevitarion is back! May I ask how he fought? In the process of leaving us alone and going deep into the enemy camp, he killed several more big demons and made some contributions? Congratulations, elder brother! You have a new legend that can be sung by people!"

At this moment, those faces screaming in pain are the most difficult walls and shields in the world for Sevitar. No matter how strong he is, he can't break through.

"But war is a must." Belros said with his eyes closed. "In essence, it is a collection of struggles, and humans are born to struggle."

They danced and found their own positions one by one, and then they immediately couldn't wait to close together, entwined around it like the embrace of a couple in love, and in an instant, the chainsaw halberd turned into the claws of the monster.

You must kill them before you can enter.

There is no technical content, but there is no need for technical content. If it is too delicate, chaos and disorder will disappear.

He is not a Primarch. Sevatar can even see the essence of his existence at a glance: he just constructed a body with the evil law of the warp, and then threw people's secular and religious impressions of Robert Guilliman into it.

He said with a smile, and the almost broken armor added a perfect persuasiveness to his appearance at the moment.

Why did he say that?

The answer is simple-because of that fake, the 'Robert Guilliman' who has some qualities of Robert Guilliman.

It doesn't care about race, knowledge, or whether the research direction is to save the world and the people. It just calmly instills knowledge into them, without stopping, pouring the terrifying knowledge that they can't bear into these once smart brains.

"Okay, as long as you go to him and talk about this matter."

Sevatar stretched out his hand to summon them, and turned the ashes of these demons into a pair of pale wings with a brutal method, and placed them behind him.

At least, Sevatar really couldn't say anything now - but if he didn't fight back, it was really not his style.

"Oh, look who it is!" Sheher Coldsoul said sharply.

He swung, and the dim flame flashed above the dark sea of ​​clouds, completely clearing out the flock of birds that were screaming hundreds of meters around. There were no broken bodies or organs flying, only floating ashes.

He thought it was an eyesore, and he believed that Calgio, who had been staring at it endlessly, probably thought it was an eyesore too.

Yes, that's it. I suffer, so they don't have to.

The 'eldest brother' was silent for a while, then said: "If you keep talking like this, I will have to exercise my power and ask you to return the sword that belongs to the herald bird."

"If we want to make the world a better place, then we must stain our hands with blood, Sevata, this is something that no one can escape."

According to the planned plan, the forces left behind in the camp have probably already started to act. In this case, a safe and steady approach is the better choice

This is not the first time that Sevata has violated the nature of the Sons of Night, but he has not been welcomed as expected.

Compared to a creature who truly believes that he is Robert Guilliman from birth, a creature that is ignorant of the current situation and can only gradually learn about the world over time is more in line with the Lord of Change's preference for change.

"And this weapon! Look at it, how majestic and terrifying it is. I'm afraid the Inquisition has to create a separate file for it! Your Majesty, the Emperor, and the King of the Night. Brother, you are truly a hero with a sword."

Sevatar answered himself in this way, his voice was as low as a thing from the other world - at this moment, it really didn't sound like he was speaking with his physical body.

But it all doesn't matter, because the crows deep in the sea of ​​clouds can't last long.

It knew nothing about it and still cheered for joy. The newborn soul was overjoyed that it could execute judgment and justice.

"They won't have to bear the pain."

Unlike their fight, Savitar's fight is almost over.

They are just mindless puppet creatures, spies, spies and consumables, but they still instinctively feel fear at this moment.

Their formation quietly changed, from encirclement to clever blocking, and Sevatar grinned with satisfaction - it didn't matter, he longed for more.

He finally opened his eyes and smiled a crumpled smile.

"I am the monster."

Bless me!

Savitar came to this conclusion without much effort, but the question was, how did he start?

yes.

Sevatar swung his weapon again. Each swing of the chain saw dozens of screeching crows killed, but they still came one after another, blocking his way.

There was a wail of resentment inside the motor, heartbreaking and filled with endless hatred. The circuits broke free and danced wildly, gradually changing color until they resembled scarlet blood vessels.

With just one blow, most of the sky was cleared, and then, a destructive spiritual energy caused the weapon to silently change its nature.

Alloys and saw blades, motors and circuits - these things once formed a chain saw, a supreme weapon in the world.

"."

Sheher turned his head to look at the landing point of the weapon, and suddenly let out a monotonous laugh without any smile. Then he took a step forward and his tone rose again.

"."

Sevatar waited for him quietly.

It roared and tore apart the dark clouds, completely shattering the delicate magic that kept the crows alive. The violence represented by killing and the power they represent are rarely connected. Most of the time, they are incompatible.

However, Robert Guilliman in people's minds would not do such a thing. The firm will born from the collective impression of mankind would make him suffer.

After a while, wouldn't the Lord of Change's favorite dramatic conflict be born?

And it's possible that the Prince of Pleasure is also involved. He has been silent for too long, which is not in His nature.

"Then what if you don't come back?"

He must abide by certain rules. He does not kill innocent people. This is not only the underlying logic behind his power that must be followed, but also the code he pursues throughout his life. But he must enter that tower, otherwise, a more cruel Fate will befall all mortals in this world.

This incident quietly changed his eyes, and a certain kind of flame suddenly rose, and the crowd of crows began to scream in unison the next moment, suffering from the massacre due to the sudden and unreserved violence displayed by the eldest son of the night.

Their pain is the energy source of those spells, no, to put it another way, they are the spells themselves.

He has seen countless people turn from good guys to villains. Among them, only a few hundred people can truly realize their mistakes before they die.

Really unpleasant. Sevatar slowly narrowed his eyes. Something is targeting him, and I'm afraid it has been preparing for it a long time ago.

He even provocatively started calling an evil god in the highest heaven with his spiritual power.

Sevatar rushed straight into the flock of birds, stretched out his hand with disgust, and grasped the weapon that could only appear in nightmares.

If this was sad enough, the strange equality possessed by the Silver Tower made it absurd and ironic, for it treated them all equally.

This creature's natural instinct as a subspace creature will make him endlessly pursue the flesh and blood of the living. In the final analysis, he is still an inanimate being after all.

Their number is just a cheap joke in front of Sevita. The huge silver tower not far away that covers the sky is his real target. Sevita can smell the unique smell without even looking carefully. The stink of Tzeentchian daemons.

And those evil spells engraved on every corner of the Silver Tower.

Even if you take off this human skin, it won't work.

He was so satisfied that he didn't care at all how Yago Severtarion used this power of slaughter - all warriors would eventually die in war, this was the essence of war.

Just give it, so what? The Blood God laughed and punched the god's body, then picked up his giant ax and once again devoted himself feverishly to this fight that seemed to never end.

"I don't believe in fate, and I despise those idiots who believe in fate, but I want to tell you, there are really some things in this world that are connected to each other."

They beat happily, as if they were really connected to the heart and transporting unclean blood.

Let me ask, what if he looked like Robert Guilliman, acted like Robert Guilliman, and even acted like the Lord of Macragge?

So, after he really fulfilled the expectations people had for him, would there be some unspeakable changes in the Supreme Heaven?

Generally speaking, the more knowledge a person has, the easier it is to breed arrogance, and arrogance is the beginning of all depravity and corruption.

But now, the alloy that constitutes the foundation of its existence has unknowingly been stained with heavy demonic nature, and the single-molecule saw blade is cruelly squeezed apart by the rough and hard bones, as if the milk teeth are replaced, which is very weird.

The wise man who went astray, the scholar whose soul was deceived, the philosopher who fell into madness - every soul that was once wise is now screaming on it, no longer having the demeanor of the past, only the instinct to beg for liberation.

Sevatar didn't want to portray human nature so darkly, but he knew in his heart that people were like this, and the long ten thousand years were the best proof.

Every soul here is pure white as far as the eye can see. According to the standards of the wasteland, they should even be allowed to enter the cemetery and rest in peace.

There are very few people who have no regrets in their lives, and even fewer who have never done evil. What's more, these people are ridiculous "good wise men".

"Cold soul." Sevatar hissed as if his teeth were in pain. "That's enough, I'm back, right?"

The bloody god raised his head from a long battle, and a low snort came from behind the brass helmet, and then he actually sent a blessing.

He didn't care that he was about to be pierced through the chest by a huge sword burning with flames. He even had enough time to lower his head and look at the body holding the sword and the golden skeleton attached to his back.

How handsome. He laughed in his heart. I'm sure your friends in the mine will be very surprised to see you like this. They will welcome you, Yago Sevatarion

They will welcome you with screams, and then call you a monster.

Sevatar swung down the chain saw halberd, and his cold and crazy heart was calm.

"We kill, we stain our hands with the blood of our own kind, we become madmen and wretches, we look up at the dark night in the trenches, we shiver with cold, we become monsters with hunger, we bear all of this, so that those who are unarmed, those who cannot protect themselves"

"Take it back," the skeleton roared.

Sevita turned his head, silently picked up the helmet hanging on the belt around his waist, and began to contact the camp.

Calgio, who was standing by, turned a blind eye to the strange and terrible interaction between them, just holding a gun, alerting the giant who had not yet stood up, ready to fire at any time.

He had entered a state of war.

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