Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

The jumping gang battle between Astartes is bloody and brutal, and life and death are often only on the line. But if the other party is a Primarch and a ten thousand-year-old soldier, then the situation has to change.

Angron threw out a fist and punched the Chaos Astarte in front of him with his breastplate. Not only did the other party feel no pain, but he even let out a moan. These traitors who have completely kneeled under Slaanesh have long been blessed by the evil god. Their armor protects them and entertains them at the same time.

No matter what attack it is, as long as it falls on the armor, it will bring strong sensory stimulation to them, and they will enjoy the pleasure of ascending immortals.

——So Angron sullenly tore it in half. Half of that guy's sickly body fell to the ground, and there was still a breath left. Half of his head rolled from his helmet onto the deck, his mouth opened and closed, and the exposed strange proliferative tissue made Angron lift his feet.

slap.

Compared to Angron, Givaudan's battle is much simpler. With a chainsaw in hand, he faced the siege of two of the Emperor's Children. Seemingly precarious, in fact, step by step. After adding the swords once, Jiva Doren took a step forward calmly, and the chainsaw sword in his hand just rightly blocked the opponent's right arm that had withdrawn the blade.

There was a sinister smile on his face, and a flying arm was reflected in the scarlet eyepiece - the emperor in front of him had not yet realized what happened, and was washed away by the strong sensory stimulation and fell to the ground. Jiva Doren gave him a disdainful look, the old chainsaw in his hand roared, and it chopped off his head.

After doing all this, Jivaldoren's movements still didn't stop. He raised his left arm and let his left shoulder armor resist the bolt gun in the hand of the remaining emperor. The other side's head can only be described as touching. Givadolen wondered if he had lost his nerves over the years by sinking into the stings of drugs, but he didn't care.

Two seconds later, he rushed in front of the emperor, with a whole piece of pale human skin hanging on his chest, which was full of blasphemous words. Jiva Duolun gritted his teeth, and a familiar anger rose in his heart: "Juzhu Emperor Zhi..."

"The hole kills the monster!"

His roar resounded on the call channel, and Angron gave him an approving look, jumped up lightly, landed in the crowd of the Emperor's Children, and started to attack with their firearms. Kill special kill. The princes were horrified to find that their bolt guns were completely useless against the shirtless man.

Most of the bullets were dodged by him like a prophet, while the few lucky enough to hit him were firmly blocked by the light blue shield emerging from him, and reflected out after a pause. The bullets fired from their own guns actually killed a lot of people themselves.

And although the opponent is bare-handed,

But every blow can directly tear through their power armor, and some people are not even qualified to enjoy the pain, and their heads are beaten alive.

He Shenyan walked out from the opening of the bridge. He observed the situation a little, and did not intend to join this disparity battle-in his opinion, Angron's victory was inevitable.

He doesn't think there is any possibility of victory for this group of anti-human wastes addicted to pleasure. Frankly speaking, among the four evil gods, the ones he despises the most are Slaanesh and his followers.

Sure enough, the fight was over after five minutes. The Chaos War Gang composed of thirty-two emperors was like a weak baby in front of Angron and Jiva Doren, and was easily slaughtered.

Givaudoren stood on the spot, with five broken corpses lying under his feet. One of the thoracic cavity was completely cut open by him with a chainsaw sword, and the diseased internal organs flowed all over the floor. He stopped the chainsaw sword in silence, and hung it back on the lock on his waist, feeling more relaxed than ever.

He turned his head and saw that his Primarch was already talking to the mage.

"Played well."

"Your spell is what matters." Angron nodded calmly at him, not taking the credit for himself.

"It's you who forced them to fight with us in a jump gang, and your shield. Otherwise, even if I get hit by a bolter at close range without wearing power armor, I'll have a good drink."

The blowing scene ended because the mage shook his head. He raised his right hand and pointed to a broken star not far away: "It's not over yet, my friend."

"Ok?"

"Look at that star."

He Shenyan didn't say much, just let him observe the star. Angron didn't think his eyesight was good enough to directly observe the surface of another planet from the spaceship, but he still did. Sure enough, he felt a burst of warmth from the surface of his eyeball, and then the picture from his retina changed rapidly.

Overwhelming demons, traitors, and blasphemies from nightmares mingle, madly attacking the only remaining fortress on the shattered earth. Resisting artillery fire was still coming from the monastery-style fortress, but according to Angron's observation, they had lost their way.

Their heavy firepower was all destroyed by the demons on the positions not far away, and the defensive artillery was unable to cope with the demons in the sky, not to mention the demonic army rushing from the ground like a tide. A few dozen Astartes stood on the towering walls of the monastery, commanding the mortal auxiliary army to run around.

The warmth disappeared, Angron turned his head and heard the mage say, "See clearly?"

He nodded, his expression clouded by gloom and anger again: "...What can we do?"

"Yes, yes." The mage closed his eyes. "But I'll have to rest for a while after I finish this vote—about three days."

Before Angron and Givadolun understood what he meant, they saw the mage raise his right hand. He closed his eyes, smiled, and muttered to himself, "Since it can't be teleported long-distance, then I'll let it come over."

Jiva Doren suddenly felt his bones that were comparable to alloys rattling overwhelmedly. He took off his helmet unbearably, and blood poured out of his nose. He shook his head uncomfortably, feeling dizzy. , even about to faint.

Angron was much calmer than him, but he still clenched his fists, as if he was trying to resist something. The Primarch's gaze was still calm, but it seemed to be carrying some kind of expectation.

He Shenyan opened his eyes, a dazzling red light burst out from his eyes, and the magic burst wildly, almost forming a substantial explosion in the vacuum that could not transmit sound - the wreckage of the spacecraft and the debris of the planet floating in space around there. All of them were completely annihilated in an instant. Seeing this scene, Angron had no doubt that if he was in it, the end would not be much better.

"Come!"

Jiva Duolun heard He Shenyan's roar, the star that seemed not far away was actually extremely far away, and was dragged to them alive in the next second with his traction!

The mage laughed wildly: "Fuck you can't teleport and spell restrictions!"

He turned his head, and his scarlet eyes stared at Givaudan and Angron: "Get ready!"

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"Tell your third company to go to the western city wall to stand up, Hajirod, I don't want to hear any excuses, even if I die, I will die on the city wall! Do you understand!?"

An officer roared furiously at his subordinates, his subordinates silently endured the anger of the superior, then saluted and ran away silently.

He didn't tell his commander that only fifty-eight people were left in the third company - Hajirod wanted to find his commander for secondment, but when he saw that there was only one leg left and half of his face was covered Those words couldn't be uttered when the officer was burned even with blood oozing from the bandage on his chest.

Hajirod knew that they had reached the last minute, and they would soon meet death. Where is the support?

As a light infantry regiment, that's all they can do - other astral armies with heavy firepower have long since died, and their heavy firepower positions have been taken care of by the demons, and Hajirod doesn't know this. It's not a weird joke.

The officer was still panting on the spot, he stretched out his hand and took out an injection from his waist and stabbed it hard on his neck. After a few seconds, the paleness of his face lightened a little, and his physical strength seemed to have recovered a little. The price was that he would die in an hour, but that didn't matter.

The head of the regiment was dead, the political commissar was dead, and only four of the ten died in a row, and even he was the only high-ranking officer left. There were heavy footsteps behind him, and the officer didn't need to look back to know that it was his angel of death.

A cold, heavy, processed voice said to him over the roar of the demons: "Captain, my brother and I are ready."

The captain turned his head, and an Astarte stood behind him, his own face reflected in the scarlet eyepiece: a face full of anger and unwillingness.

"There's a hidden path under the monastery, my lord—"

Astarte interrupted him calmly: "--no need to do so, to evacuate is to escape, we are not cowards."

There was even a smile in his voice, still cold, but it made the captain feel a certain honor: "Let's not talk about whether it will succeed. You and your warriors are fighting bloody battles, how can we Abandon you and run away? There are many more enemies who died at your hands than us! We are not satisfied with this.”

The captain still wanted to make a final struggle: "But, my lord, you are his angels of death, and we are but mortals..."

Astarte looked at him quietly: "Sacrifice is the cornerstone of the empire, and mortals are the ones who sacrificed the most for the empire. You are the cornerstone of the empire, don't hesitate anymore. I have seen your commanding ability, Order, Captain—we will follow your command, and make sure to kill more blasphemies before they die."

The captain took a deep breath, never thinking that he would have such an opportunity to be able to command a team of Astartes.

This sense of recognition soon faded from his heart, replaced by coldness and identification - yes, our death is a foregone conclusion, our lives are the Emperor's currency, and that is why we must make ourselves Dead is more valuable!

He said: "The third company of the western wall has just asked us for support. How many Astartes do you have available?"

"Seventeen."

"Okay, please send five people to the western city wall."

"You all heard it," said Astarte. He patted his breathing grille: "The one near the west wall, report to me."

Five people were talking on the communication channel one after another.

"Reported by Rhodes."

"Gilmond reports."

"The Harroll Report."

"Temple Report."

"The Harlan Report."

Astarte nodded: "Very good, the five of you go to the western city wall to support the mortal soldiers there."

The captain frowned, the sound of the gunfire deafening his left ear a little, and he said loudly, "Please - God, what is that?!"

Astarte looked up, the cloudy sky above their heads seemed to be torn apart at this time, a huge thundercloud came from nowhere, and slowly condensed into a vortex in the sky. Before he could say anything, a huge golden lightning fell from the sky and slashed straight on the plain near the monastery.

The earth trembled, the ground shook, and Astarte quickly grabbed the captain who was about to fall.

He squinted and looked at the sky again, the rumbling thunder began to sound non-stop, and the lightning hit the monastery one by one with the thunder, and the besieging demons were either vaporized on the spot, or in the subsequent chain lightning. was turned into coke.

His eyepiece began to zoom in, helping him to accurately capture the ground struck by lightning—golden flames were burning wildly on the demon-contaminated land, and as long as it got on it, those demons would immediately die in pain.

"this......."

The captain seemed to have lost his ability to speak. Astarte placed him on the ground steadily, but his tone was extremely frenetic: "This is his power!"

His voice channel began to hear the brothers shouting and shouting slightly, some people shouting the name of the emperor, and some people roaring to vent their emotions. The mortal soldiers were not far behind, and some even started wasting ammunition and venting on the demon corpses under the city walls—a behavior that was quickly stopped by their superiors.

"Boom!"

A bolt of lightning struck again, hitting the center of the fortress, but it didn't cause any damage to the monastery. A shirtless giant and another good-looking Astarte in red armor stood on the city wall.

Astarte stepped forward and gave an eagle salute: "The third company commander of the Crimson Blades, Ezekiel."

The giant glanced at him, especially for a while at the bright red teardrop with two white wings on his chest, and then nodded coldly: "You can call me anger... Without further ado, let's start wrapping things up."