Warhammer: I don’t want to be a can of worms! ! !

Chapter 343 332. Respect Luo Ke, Respect the World Eater

He wasn't completely broken yet, and his blood was still flowing.

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Rock, the former commander of the World Eaters Legion and now the commander of the First Company, thought that after transforming into a Space Marine, he no longer had the ability to cry.

But now the crimson liquid was sliding down his cheeks.

"Rock, you are our last possibility. Take our father out...or...kill him, don't make him feel so uncomfortable."

The last surviving think tank, Chief Reciter Vorias, spoke softly, his words were very soft, as if he was worried about disturbing the unconscious beast resting on his shoulder.

The nails on the beast's head were buzzing, blood flowed from his towering nose, and the huge body was pressed senselessly on Vorias's shoulders, while the chief chanter wrapped his arms around him as much as he could. Their original body.

The hazy and white spiritual light shrouded Vorias's body. It was the last glimmer of the chief reciter, weak and inviolable.

Rock opened his mouth, his voice was hoarse, and blood and voice overflowed from his throat.

"……good."

Roark heard a faint chuckle, and Vorias might have smiled, but the Chief Reciter's back was to Roark, and all Roark could see was the blood trickling down their father's face.

A soft but firm white light lit up in front of his eyes, and Rock squinted. It was a scene he had seen countless times. The injury healed, the nightmare no longer occurred, and the frequency of the original body's eyelid twitching began to ease.

Vorias just stood there quietly. Beside them, the corpses of countless World Eaters were already lying on the ground, including ordinary warriors and think tanks. Their blood soaked the earth.

Slowly everything dimmed.

Vorias reached out with difficulty, trying comically to wipe the blood from his primarch's face, but his hand finally dropped.

There was a faint scratching sound, and Vorias slowly knelt down. The original body slipped from his shoulders and lay smoothly on the red sand.

Vorias lowered his head, blood dripping from the face of the Chief Reciter, and then from the primarch's knife-like face.

Rock was silent. He walked over and carried the original body with difficulty. He dragged Angron towards the next room - full of enemies and monsters, and the silently rising lava chased them. They could not be in the same area. Stayed too long.

Vorias knelt there and watched them go.

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How many more battles did they have after that? More than 700 times, or more than 800 times, Rock has lost count.

Sometimes he dragged Angron, who was unconscious because of the nails, to escape from the rising magma. Sometimes he woke up from a desperate coma and found that the original body was running with him. Seeing that he was not dead, Angron Grinning at him.

They fought countless crimson and violent monsters, and the time was often just right. When they used chain axes to chop off heads one after another, and just when their legs could continue to run, the roar of magma would sound from behind them, and they had no choice but to die. Run to the next room.

The rest time was very short. At first, Angron would eat the flesh and blood of those scarlet monsters to replenish his physical strength, but those flesh and blood were highly poisonous to the Space Marines, so Angron asked Roark to drink his blood to replenish his physical strength.

The chain saw cut open the skin, and blood fell from the palms of his hands.

The blood of his primarch gave him strength, which may be why Roark still stands unsteadily here today.

Rock nailed his life here and to the other side of life. In a daze, Rock knew that his tenacious life was the last string holding the original body's sanity.

If he died, and the last World Eater by the Primarch's side died, what would become of Angron? Will he be consumed by rage and despair and transform into the scarlet monsters they fight?

Rock already had the answer in his mind. As he coughed and vomited blood, Rock would think that death might be a relief for him, but he couldn't die now.

The giant being who toyed with them seemed to be aware of Rock's obstruction. During the battle, he was on the verge of death again and again, but he pulled himself back again and again with willpower.

He also thought about killing Angron and freeing their father, just like Vorias asked him to do it, but Roark gradually realized that death in this realm seemed unable to bring true happiness to the original body. of peaceful sleep.

On the contrary, his...certain essence will be taken away. Death means defeat and compromise, and the winner naturally has the right to execute the loser, whether it is soul or body.

The living can only choose to fight.

But Angron became more and more painful, and Rock couldn't detect the psychic energy in the environment, but he could detect some truth from the increasingly violent sound of nails.

Broken brain tissue replaced the blood and flowed out of Angron's nose. The original body wiped them away indifferently, but after the first gush of brain tissue, Angron stopped eating the monster corpses.

Rock remained silent.

Facing the Butcher's Nail on the head of the original body, only the Think Tank among the World Eaters had in-depth research on this. They used spiritual energy to stun Angron's gradually out-of-control will, so that Angron could gain a moment of peace in his soul. A chance to breathe.

But this means that the nails will dig deeper, and before coming here, the Librarians would never use this easily, even if Angron asked them to.

After they were trapped here, compared with the violent psychic environment here, the psychic energy of the Librarians was already mild, and they could even reduce the stimulation of the surrounding environment on the Butcher's Nails.

Before his death, Volias released the Librarians' moves on the Primarch. The oldest Librarian of the World Eaters left his psychic energy before his death to protect Angron and reduce Angron's pain as much as possible.

But as the blood flowed out and dried up again and again, Volias was getting farther and farther away from them.

Angron was almost unable to hold on. Even if the war and fighting did not take him away, the buzzing nails in his head would end his life.

More than once, Rock thought with pain, what if the Legion had arrived earlier? Even, what if he could bear the pain for his Primarch?

But now everything is too late, all choices are erased, and they can only fight.

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For the last time.

He is going to die.

Rock struggled to pull himself onto the ship of the living, but he could only hear the desperate sound of his nails scratching the hull.

[Rock! Rock!] He heard the voice of the Primarch calling him on the water. Rock tried to open his eyes, but his eyes were still dark. He seemed to be dead, or his consciousness would stay in his body for a while before dying, but he must have acted like he was dead. Because Rock felt that Angron had put him down, the Primarch stood up, roared, and blood mixed with saliva splashed on the ground. [Every time! Every time!] Angron shouted desperately, and he angrily swung his axe in the air, as if he was fighting a desperate battle with an invisible monster. [Damn damn nails! ! ! The person it should kill the most is me! Not my teacher! My offspring! My comrade! ! !] [Damn it! ! Why? ! ! Why! ! !] Incredibly, for the first time, the Son of the Mountain took the initiative to throw down his axe, and the blood axe hit the ground with two dull sounds. Angron screamed in pain, thrusting his hands into the dense cluster of nails on his head that looked like braids, and then—

Pull!

[Ah ... Angron's blood splashed around him, like a sacrifice, and the flames suddenly ignited. They heard words, the language of demons.

Rok began to struggle, cursing his broken willpower. He felt furious. He realized that everything was a scam, and their father was the one who was hurt the most. No, how dare they? How dare they fool the World Eaters, fool Angron like this? !

But he still lay on the ground, unable to make even the faintest cry.

The ground in front of Angron began to melt, and the hot bloody axe surged from hell, and the eye sockets of eight skulls were staring at Angron.

+Hold me. +

It said.

+I will give you liberation, head, and blood. +

But does the Primarch, whose brain has been madly pierced by nails, still have any sanity that can communicate? Angron ignored the axe, he roared, and struggled with the nails on his head.

As if aware of Angron's state, the ground began to tremble, and the scarlet giant beast stepped out, aiming its huge horn at Rok, eager to try.

+Hold me, Angron, or your offspring will be insulted. +

Angron gasped, and the Primarch suddenly looked up and saw that the blasphemous creature was eager to try.

[No... No!!!]

Angron trembled and took his hand off his head. He stood up slowly, saliva and minced meat dripping from his mouth. No! No! Never! He stared at the monster and reached out to grab the nearest axe in front of him-

Angron lowered his head suddenly, and the touch from his hand was wrong.

He saw a pair of hands, a pair of hands wearing white helmets, holding the battle axe-no, rather than holding it, it was more like an action to stop Angron from picking up the battle axe.

[Rok... Rok?]

Angron whimpered in pain, and what responded to him was the figure of his offspring surrounded by blood and flames.

Maybe there is, maybe not; don't wait

Recommend a book, recommend a book!

Lao Fugen, the author said that if you think the first chapter is too slow, you can go directly to the second chapter (\u0026gt;\u0026lt;)