"The blood of the false emperor, what's going on?" Talos asked loudly as they began to prepare to return to orbit.

And Lamizane (who seemed quite normal to the remnants of the Eighth Legion) sat aside with his back hunched over, holding the clothes he had just torn apart carefully with a thoughtful expression on his face.

Such a quiet and ignorant King of the Night made the former pharmacist of the 10th Company feel as relieved as his heart throbbed.

"To sum it up, the Cursed Echo in orbit reported a subtle and swift sneak attack." The tall warrior wearing a bat-winged helmet replied. He did not participate in the chaotic melee from beginning to end, but no one dared to Questioning his immediate place in the Dark End's closest proximity to the Primarch. "They believe that the other party is most likely an Adeptus Astartes cruiser."

Septimus recognized this as his master's closest comrade, Lord Shire, champion of the Broken Eagle warband.

"No. 7, go to the pilot's seat and let the others return to the Dreadclaw, and then light up the coordinates for them when we take us back to the Cursed Echo. First Claw, prepare your weapons, we have to get back to the ship immediately. ——?" The end of Talos's words suddenly became sharp and distorted, and the sudden and familiar cracking pain began to spread deep in his skull. No, no, no, not at this time.

At this moment, the prophet has never hated himself so much. The pain of punishment brought by his talent is tangible on the back of his head, making his eyeballs feel the pressure of bulging, and the tiny needles of bursting blood vessels in his eyes feel one after another. , he took a breath, trying to overcome it, at least to prevent himself from being so embarrassed in front of his lost and found father.

He is now the temporary commander of the remaining brothers of the 10th and 11th companies. There are currently only eighty-one legion soldiers of the Eighth Legion within a radius of dozens of light years. They are in Tessaguar. The Primarch returned from Sarsun unarmed, he only had them... He had to take responsibility to protect...

But the cursed power, darkness, and pain surged up like a tide and began to mercilessly engulf Talos's consciousness.

His lips moved, words coming out from behind the breathing grid.

"Sons of the Thirteenth Legion, scarlet and bronze armor," he murmured.

"What happened? He started again? At this time?" said his close friend, half annoyed and half anxious.

Pharmacist Valiel rushed over and knelt down beside Talos, who fell limply to the floor of Thunder Eagle and began to fall into coma. He checked him, "I warned him." He said, "We will wait. He must be admitted to the infirmary for treatment as soon as he returns to the ship.”

"But damn, this is an attack on us by the puppet emperor's lackeys. When we go back, we must first defend our ship before we can talk about anything else! If we can't kill these cunning bastards, everything is in vain!" Selion was a little confused after listening to the latest bridge communication report. replied angrily.

A giant hand that was as pale as a marble carving stretched out, and a soft voice immediately ended the shouting of the Night Lords.

Lamizane walked over, "What's wrong with him? Besides, he just mentioned the Thirteenth Legion."

"Yes, my lord. In our experience, this is usually a sign that Talos's prophetic ability has recently begun to operate, and his predictions of what will happen next."

Selion, who had strange lightning tears painted on his faceplate, as Talos' nominal lieutenant, answered their master at this time.

They saw a thoughtful look appear on the pale face of Midnight Ghost.

"The prophecy... Indeed, Talos's prophecy is indeed like this. But how can the Thirteenth Legion be scarlet... Wait."

The First Claws watched as their father dug his skinny, claw-like fingers into the side of Talos's skull mask, groping for it.

"Aha, yes, here." With the "click" sound of the lock being released, his eyes were closed tightly, and Talos's face, which was as golden as paper, was revealed under the removed helmet visor, and the prophet's His skin now looked the strange color of a dying person, as if he would cross the line between life and death at any time, and every breath he took seemed to be a sigh.

"Oh... I think this should work..." A soft hissing voice led to a softer soliloquy. They saw the father of genes carefully press his palm on Talos's forehead, and then closed his eyes. Open your eyes.

It seemed that something invisible began to emerge from the shadowy water of another world, and then for no apparent reason, everyone on board the Thunderhawk—especially the Night Lords—couldn't help but... The earth's heart skipped a beat, as if something was about to break through their heart - the original one - or even break through their soul - breaking out of the earth.

(*…)

Someone who had been silent for a while opened his mouth somewhere in the darkness, and his shark-like teeth reflected the dim light wetly.

(*Look at this, you stupid, weak fool.)

"Huh……?"

———————

Ten minutes later, they had flown back to the hangar of the battleship. Thanks to Septimus's superb flying skills, at least they all had to tail off the Thunderhawk when they rushed down, and Markushen could still take the time to prepare for his own. The heavy bolter was loaded.

Apart from anything else, this company of the Origin Chapter's ambush against the Cursed Echo had to be said to be very swift and beautiful.

Of course, the Night Lords insist that these bastard cousins ​​are also a little too lucky: for example, although the new navigator slave of the Cursed Echo is indeed outstanding in ability, her experience in serving the Legion is limited, especially because of her birth and work experience. So much so that she saw but could not recognize the search beacons scattered in the subspace by the Think Tanks of the Origin Chapter; and for example, when they jumped out of the subspace, they may have been too close to the New Appearance Star, the home star of the Origin Chapter. .

Anyway.

"The situation is very bad now, they broke the generator, the void shield is down, we are being jumped, my lord."

"I could hear the firefight. Thank you, Ciel."

Their genetic father replied softly, like a viper hissing a message.

The tall and powerful champion of the Night Lords froze, even as his muscles began to maneuver him to lean back in an attempt to avoid something, and he looked like he had been punched in the bridge of the nose by a power punch called "Thank You Char".

But the Midnight Ghost, who had already put on a short pullover cloak made of tangled clothes, obviously did not give him time to continue to be surprised. The tall and thin original body straightened up and strode forward out of the hangar. The heavy door of the hangar opened before them. It closed behind it, leaving the unconscious Talos and his slave pilot inside.

"Sai, now report the repair status of the void shield, the number of people at each invasion point, the firefighting situation, and the defense plan."

No one was stupid enough to ask the Primarch which Sai he was asking about at this time, but they did have one anyway.

Cerion tilted his head slightly, holding down his communication bead while broadcasting the current situation to his master. "Dieterian has gone to check the void shield generator - Dietrian is our mechanical bishop, my lord; the sixth claw is fighting fiercely on the port platform, and is currently outnumbered, and is retreating to the new black market; the fourth claw Fierce Claw was fighting while heading to the second corridor... Damn it, where did the Bloody Eyes go! These unreliable scavengers..."

"Okay." Midnight Ghost, who tilted his head, stopped his report with one word, "It's almost the same, so there's no problem... Well... let's go to the main corridor to defend, yes, the strategic command deck, forward."

Although Conrad Curze technically never deigned to visit the ship, and the passages of the Cursed Echo had become more tortuous and dark like a maze over the centuries of decay and modification, the warriors were filled with wonder and Seeing in awe, the leader of the legion walked forward without hesitation, walking as fast as flying, and even able to avoid any falling pipelines and debris in time - just like -

"I have to admit that this is somewhat different from the battle scenes I remember following my lord." Makutian's voice sounded on the First Claw's team channel.

"So what?" Charles returned, tightening his grip on his bolter. "I've never felt more powerful, and that's enough."

"Blood sacrifice to the blood god." A voice gasped, wetly, as if licking the sticky blood, "Skull sacrifice to the midnight ghost!"

"...Shut up, Ursus!"

The King of Night suddenly stopped.

Each of them heard the sound of ceramite boots hitting the ground of the battleship from the front.

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