Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

The army of the dead came from Hades to kill.

Aliens, tens of thousands of aliens, their tall bodies and ugly faces are the lingering nightmares of countless people who have experienced them, but now, the strange reality of resurrection from the dead makes them even more terrifying.

What the five hundred people saw was a wall of corpses that moved on its own. The Randan warriors who were walking again were squeezing each other. Their guns and blades were randomly wrapped with flesh and blood, forming an endless line of sight. A strange military formation, they roared and rushed towards the Dark Angel's location at all costs.

Thousands of bullets hit their bodies, but they had basically no effect. The torn internal organs and intestines were flowing on the ground, and the rotting brains and broken skulls were exposed to the air through the torn skin. Among them, they still cannot stop the pace of these resurrections.

Everything is like hell.

A living hell.

The five hundred people just watched with cold eyes.

This scene is enough to make any mortal feel psychologically broken. For these battle-hardened Dark Angel veterans, it is just a matter of replacing the afternoon tea waffles with cookies.

No difference.

It can even be said that such hell-like scenes are as numerous as stars in their memories. In terms of the degree of challenge to the limits of human psychology, this situation with tens of thousands of corpses in a mere fortress is not even ranked in the top 100.

What's more, they have reasons why they can't take a step back.

He was walking between them.

——————

Lion.

Leon Jonson.

Primarch of the First Legion.

He walked among the array of dark angels, like a born king of knights.

The greatest Caliban behemoth killer did not wear his helmet. His long golden hair and beard shone on the blood-red mottled starry sky, dyed with an invisible killing color, and a pair of pupils were It was covered in shadow, making it difficult to see clearly.

[The Lion] was so tall that even if Morgan stood on a distant cliff, he could still see his armor and body at a glance, and felt an indescribable feeling of depression in his heart.

He slowly walked out of the Dark Angel array, walked to the front, glanced at the approaching wave of corpses of the reborn, and gave the order.

[Keep suppressing. 】

[Keep cover. 】

[Clear the road. 】

Then, his sword pointed at a fortress in the core area of ​​Randan Fortress.

[Take that as the first stage target. 】

【start to act. 】

He ordered, and along with this order, a silent response swept in. Zhuang Sen was the first to take a step, followed by five hundred people, like a roaring army of death.

——————

The gears of death began to spin.

Before Morgan's eyes, they set into motion.

【Like a work of art. 】

She couldn't help but sigh.

This is the first time that Morgan has truly witnessed the art of war of a primarch. This is not a manifestation of simple brute force, nor is it a greatness molded bit by bit with hands and time. This is true ruthlessness and means, achieved in a moment. A beautiful piece of music played by instinct and experience.

She felt that she had witnessed a peak and that she would never see a greater one again.

Zhuang Sen and his men, 501 warriors and 501 hunters, merged into one, their minds were connected, and they turned into a flowing blade of death, changing their existence and edge all the time.

Some things do not need to be ordered at all. Facing an opponent who can withstand thousands of explosive bombs, some soldiers among the five hundred people spontaneously stepped forward. They were the queues holding incendiary weapons, under the cover of their comrades. , a majestic wall of fire was erected in an instant.

The dense rain of bombs also changed from the normal, and turned into a more lonely and deadly cold gun. Morgan was entrenched in the best viewing platform and could see everything clearly: those twisted zombies, their Knees and soles became the hardest hit areas, and these painless monsters had to kneel down under the power of physics. Whenever a burst of intensive gunfire sounded, several monsters would fall down at the same time, and they implicated the team. , and finally turned into coke in the blazing flames.

Only the luckiest guys can get through this fatal level, and when they kill in front of the five hundred people, those powerful blades and bullets in the past just left streaks on the pure black armor. White marks, and then the Dark Angel wielded weapons that Morgan had never seen before, cutting these invading enemies into pieces.

It happens every few seconds.

Morgan estimated that she had pulled up tens of thousands of Randan alien corpses, but in the blink of an eye, they were all consumed. Although she had little expectation for these worthless things, when she saw Although the lineup of five hundred people was unscathed, they still felt a sense of disappointment similar to frustration.

In this sense of disappointment, Morgan vaguely heard some laughter. It was a strange sound that was completely opposite to the distorted laughter and sharp laughter before. It was slow and gentle, exuding a rotten smell, It's like a late and unhygienic guest.

She turned her head away, urging herself to ignore it.

And when all this was happening, she did not forget to pay attention to the [Lion].

Yes, the [Lion] is the key point, and all the five hundred people put together are not as powerful as one of his hairs.

In her opinion, that's it.

Morgan stood on the high cliff and carefully watched his brothers fighting in the ruins.

An inexplicable emotion appeared in her heart.

Five hundred people wiped out the army of tens of thousands of dead people in a matter of seconds, but during this short but intense process, Zhuang Sen remained silent.

He waved the sword in his hand, and the whirlwind set off by a slash swept across the corridor for hundreds of meters, causing countless stumps and broken arms to fly in the cold air.

His steps were firm and unshakable, and neither the hordes of corpses nor the giant beasts that swelled to the size of dangerous buildings did not slow down his steps at all.

He didn't give any more orders or speak anymore. He just moved forward, just waved his sword, and just became the irreplaceable leader among the killing people. The array of Dark Angels was ever-changing, but they never deviated from his direction, as if they Not an army, but Leon Jonson and his ridiculously huge shadow.

Morgan watched all this until the last consumable fell to the ground, and then she took a deep breath.

All of it, maybe only ten minutes, but it was enough to leave a hard mark in her heart.

It's a different feeling.

She watched the [Lion] and his shadow slowly stop beside the fortress. In front of them was the staircase that Morgan had not finished.

The dying War Commander [Ran Dan] is inside.

Morgan could even hear the once-great soul's screams becoming increasingly unbearable under her [ripening], and more like the terrifying roar of a wild beast.

But Morgan didn't care, she just looked at him, focusing on him, looking at the [Lion] himself.

That strange feeling began to burn in my heart.

He is not like them.

He is not like Magnus or Perturabo. He does not have their noise or their overly strong desire to perform. He locks himself in the hood and shadows and is truly taciturn. .

Compared with him, Magnus was too noisy, like a crazy poet who was destined to be thrown into death row by a ruthless tyrant to rot alive. He chanted illogical prophecies loudly, admired himself, and thought that the world We are all drunk and I am awake alone.

Compared with him, Perturabo was too hesitant, like a piece of pig iron that had been left for too long and was irretrievably showing red rust, but still pounced on destruction time and time again amid unwillingness and complaints. The melting pot, convinced that he is the indestructible true steel.

Thoughts like this were swirling in Morgan's mind, but she tilted her head slightly, immersed in another completely different thought.

It was something that burned in her chest.

It was a... familiar feeling.

A strange aura that she had not noticed on Magnus and Perturabo.

She didn't hate it, on the contrary, she felt a rare warmth.

She watched the silent army gather once again, standing behind the [Lion] again. She watched the Caliban knights with long golden hair raise their heads, and he seemed to be speaking very vaguely. He glanced at the direction where Morgan was, and then put all his energy on the fortress.

She watched the dark angels gradually disperse to seize the last commanding heights and passes in the ruins. They were like scattered water droplets, falling apart, but they could reunite into an intimate group anytime and anywhere. She even captured A figure, he quickly broke away from the team of five hundred people and ran through the ruins for a unique mission.

After doing all this, Zhuang Sen moved his wrist. He listened to the increasingly savage roars coming from the fortress and walked in.

It was at this moment that Morgan moved. She patted Hector, who was as quiet as a chicken, to ensure that her poor heir had completely forgotten what she had just said.

This is good for him.

Thinking like this, she separated another ray of consciousness and surveyed the poor Ran Dan [War Commander].

After just one glance, she took it back in discomfort.

The [ripening] performed by tens of thousands of souls looked a little wilder than she imagined.

The alien commander's current state is even pitiful. It could have carried out a crazy death struggle, but the Dark Angel's terrifying collection and interstellar war drained away its last trace of energy. When Morgan's When the means come roaring in, it no longer has the power to confront it.

How sad.

Morgan couldn't help but drool with regret.

She turned around and led Hector down the high cliff towards the ruined battlefield.

It's time to eat.