The Emperor’s Angel of Death

“This”

Wenner noticed something moving. When he looked down, he saw molten metal flowing around him, merging with other streams of metal, and quickly forming into the shape of a Necron warrior.

He had seen enemies resurrected before, but never with such shocking speed. Previously, Necron resurrections were slow, and they couldn't revive after being completely destroyed.

This subverted his understanding of the race, clearly they had a more advanced means of resurrection.

The technomancer also noticed Wenner. His marshal's uniform was very conspicuous. The alien wizard emitted a sharp sound, then raised the staff in his hand, the energy on it poised to unleash—

Suddenly, the tomb technician trembled as a sword pierced out from behind him, penetrating his sternum, and then being dragged across the ground, a large foot crushing his head.

“Lord Sol!”

Sol said nothing, only leaving a sentence.

“Protect the marshal's safety.”

“Yes!”

A dozen or so crusaders immediately surrounded him, but Wenner obviously didn't appreciate it, striding forward.

His final battle was here, on this battlefield.

On the other side, the Necron Overlord, once famous throughout the galaxy, was also watching his battlefield.

With orderly steps, the Lychguard blocking his path stepped forward, heading towards the stairs ahead to block the attacker.

And he was only one person.

The Lychguard's ranks packed the stairs leading to the Overlord tightly, but amidst the sounds of intense metal collisions, heads, severed phase weapons, and raised shields flew into the air.

These were the most elite warriors of the Amenak Dynasty, their bodies covered with tiny and intricate carvings, and covered with black, smooth as rain-washed blackstone, almost like liquid in the dim environment, allowing them to withstand artillery fire without taking too much damage.

But now all they could do was delay.

Faced with the storm of slashes, their strength and toughness, which they were so proud of, were useless. The blade that should have broken on their bodies could easily cut off their heads and insert into the gaps in their bodies, especially since the opponent's blade was unusually fast, almost creating double blades with each swing.

Crack!

Another crisp sound as the blade passed over the shield in a perfect line, piercing through the thick bone plate, sparks flying along the ribs and spine.

The Lychguard's torso radiated light from the inside out, the bones illuminated by silver flames, the brilliance flowing from their eye sockets, then collapsing to the ground like rotten wood, the staggering legs still waving weakly as they turned to ashes, even the air crackling with embers.

“Sochian wouldn't use his power, but it doesn't affect me. Although I'm not as powerful and in control as him, living metal and blackstone are still easy to deal with.”

The sword's edge was as nimble as a needle, passing through the thin gaps between the shield and the armor plate, slipping into the throat of a Lychguard wielding a warscythe trying to attack from the side, as graceful as some kind of bird.

The living metal, reinforced by blackstone, was cut like water along the crystalline edge of the blade, and the Lychguard then fell like a puppet with its strings cut, the terrifying light in its eyes flashing and disappearing.

Through the towering shields and warscythes, Amenak's sharp gaze locked onto Marcahn Kutlakh, who stood like a lone wolf before the rising tide of steel bones.

The next second, he threw the sword in his hand, instantly turning into a silver meteor. Wherever the blade went, the Lychguard fell one after another, their armor unable to withstand the power from the most powerful C'tan—even if it was just its servant.

Just as the blade reached his face, the Overlord was enveloped by an invisible force, directly bouncing the sword into the sky.

Amenak slapped a Lychguard in front of him with the flat of his sword, causing the attacker to stagger back. Seizing the opportunity, he kicked hard on the opponent's shield. As the opponent fell, he stepped on it, jumping over dozens of meters.

The sword that had been knocked away fell, and was then re-gripped.

Once again, the sword rose and fell.

In the time it took for a single heartbeat, dozens of glittering threads illuminated the entire central tomb chamber, swaying like silk in the gentle breeze above the Lychguard's heads.

Then they intertwined, wrapped, and knotted, until these threads became a net woven with gold and silver, shining brightly.

As Amenak stretched out his arms, holding the dual swords and landing as gracefully as a fluttering bird, the net of light fell between the tightly packed ranks of the Lychguard.

Crack.

The almost imperceptible sound of cutting passed away, and they were fragmented, rolling and sliding like broken bricks.

Amenak spun, the blade in his right hand sweeping towards the Necron Overlord, but only saw the threads being torn and broken the moment they touched the opponent.

The protective runes on the Necron Overlord's body also shone like dying stars. The power of this attack was so great that even through the protective spells, it could feel chills even though it could no longer feel temperature.

Cold as the gale on a winter sea, able to cut across its metal cheeks, carrying malice beyond the ages.

Marcahn Kutlakh stood still, but his mind was shaken. This was the most terrifying sword strike he had seen in hundreds of millions of years!

Pat!

Several crisp sounds as all the amulets and orbs on the Necron Overlord's body shattered.

Finally, the flood turned into a torrent, then only trickles, exposing the form behind layers of protection.

The Necron Overlord was tall, with slender limbs, and glittering blackstone armor inlaid with many shimmering jewels. Beneath the towering crown was a barren and indifferent face, devoid of motivation and emotion, but the burning eyes radiated cold arrogance.

In its hand, it held a dark black warscythe, with circles of symbols engraved on its long handle, these symbols seemed to be rotating and winding.

“Warp filth!”

With a roar, the Necron Overlord stepped forward, the warscythe drawing an arc, but before it could hit its opponent, another bright trail struck the warscythe, making a crisp and loud sound.

Missing the first strike, the Overlord immediately swept horizontally, not as an attack, but as a defense, otherwise the opponent's sword might stab him.

Clang!

The blade grazed the warscythe's long handle. Even though the Overlord tried to block it, the force of this blow still forced it back a step, and also caused the energy nodes on its body to vaporize in the dim light.

Amenak once again pressed forward, gripping the blade tightly, spinning and drawing a deadly arc.

Several consecutive attacks forced the Overlord to retreat again and again, fortunately its Lychguard gathered again.

“Vermin!”

Having his chest slashed by the blade and bursting out a ball of fire, Marcahn Kutlakh couldn't help but curse. When he saw the scratch on his chest suddenly expand, and then with a snap, his energy nodes erupted in a series of arcs, he had to retreat behind the Lychguard's shields again.