Chapter 230 Silent Mourning Poems in the Evening Wind
The huge Demon Prince of Slaanesh has begun to enter a state of hysteria.
He swung the long, bony tails on his limbs in an angry and convulsive manner. These heavy things whipped the stone platform into stone chips, and his saliva flowed from his shouting lipless body. There was dripping dripping from the mouth, and the corrosive liquid burned away one small hole after another on the ground.
The eyes of the former First Company Commander of the Emperor's Children, covered with white mist, looked at him with a look that was terrifying and spiteful even to demons in the sallow and broken skin like a mummy—— Staring hard at the person who was not supposed to be here.
This special court swordsman master's footwork that only the best of the Emperor's Children will understand its power, this full of life and agility that can be reflected even in inanimate limbs The perfect, perfect, unparalleled sense of coordination and rhythm control——
"It's impossible! It's impossible--! You can't be--"
"Shut up!! You have sullied this glorious name!!! Julius Caesoron!!!"< br>
The Contemptor fearlessly let out a furious roar, and the power contained in it even resonated in the chests of everyone present, causing the rhythm of their heartbeats to be captured by it.
The endless hatred and feeling of betrayal swallowed their "souls" like waves from a suffocating abyss.
The silver metal continues to flow out from the fearless shining palm, and the black and white lines are twisted together to form a slender and elegant blade, and finally merge into one at the tip of the weapon. Perfect to the point of heartbreakingly sharp.
But the weapon was not finally forged.
The communication between Garuda and him was completed in an instant. Needless to say, Fulgrim Ishtar immediately understood which process he wanted to perform on this weapon.
The Contemptor strode fearlessly in front of the vigilant clan commander and his broken chief think tank, not caring at all that he exposed his back to the Howl who was wandering but did not dare to continue to attack. demon.
“Light it.”
Wuwei gave them brief instructions.
"What?" Lavus clenched his huge broad-bladed power sword warily. He was broken and scarred. He faced the enemy and his back to his brothers. His fingers were still tightly clasped on the stance activation button.
But Chief Thinker Trazina had been filled with subspace power and became painful, but his clear mind instantly understood something. He took a hard breath and used his only remaining hand to hold himself up. Only half of the body sat up - placed on the other Astartes, such an injury would probably make it impossible to move, let alone continue to fight, but the Iron Hands had already sacrificed their flesh and blood in exchange for precious persistence at this moment.
The chief think tank was trembling in pain, sucking in air and pulling open his corroded and torn breastplates - they were almost fragments hanging on his metal rib plates - a mass that seemed to have substance. The silver-white fire burned raging in his chest. It was the place where the chief think tank originally absorbed and accumulated all the power. It was also the last resort he prepared to close the subspace rift. This last resort was originally paired with a fuse and thrown to the devil. The bait to eat will be Traci's own soul -
"Ravus...don't...stop...this is...necessary...he must...be able..."
< br>The sharp and elegant silver Shabal saber was held in Fearless's hand, and it was solemnly and skillfully inserted into the chest of Lacuan's chief think tank. Raus's biochemical eyes witnessed all this extraordinary process, shining fiercely. With a warning red light, the clan commander squeezed his power sword tightly, and the machine soul and the metal of the server screamed urgently and heavily.
In Traci's painful groans and prayers, those pure silvery white spiritual flames were gathered together by the think tank with their life force and soul. As soon as they touched the sword blade, they immediately clung happily along the whole body of the saber. Just like silver-white mercury meets gold, the psychic flames and the sword body are tightly blended together, forming a brighter, softer, elegant but deadly white gold. If you look carefully, you can still see the fine black details. The electric light danced in it, almost like a crack in space.
"I... thank you for your work. Then I will make everything end as soon as possible." When the Contemptor Fearless raised the sword again, its surface was burning with blazing white-gold flames And there was an extremely fine black electric light, like a weapon from a concrete sanction.
The Fearless General lowered his sword gracefully, turned around and walked towards the Demon Prince who was screaming and tearing apart the jeweled medals and flesh and blood ornaments inlaid with chains all over his body.
The Slaanesh demon named Julius Kesoron was crying and laughing. He let out a crazy howl, tearing his remaining hair and skin, and the pieces of flesh fell from his huge and bloated body. The body fell with rustling sounds.
He cried crazily and laughed wildly at the same time. When the sword burning with golden fire and electric light came, black bloody tears flowed down from the sunken eyes of the former Emperor's son along his dry cheeks. For a moment, the demon's huge His head hung low in front of the platinum blade, seemingly giving up resistance and embracing the end of the mercy from the original body -
But he suddenly screamed again, with pain and more in his voice. With many high notes, a vicious purple musk mist illuminated him with a little psychedelic flash, overflowing from the subspace crack that was about to open, emerging around him, and instantly drowned Julius Kesolon.
The next moment, a sickening feeling of ecstasy and gratitude emerged on the illusory and ragged ugly face of this demon that was pieced together with old human skin, "Ah——! The Prince of Darkness is taking care of me! You still take care of me! I will capture him again for you! ”
The voice of the Slaanesh Demon Prince changes. It was sharp and wild, and some huge pleasure combined with the power of the Supreme Heaven poured into his remaining soul from every wound and every break, completely stretching them open - flattening - stretching them. It began to explode, and Julius laughed ecstatically again because of this intense pleasure of destruction that he had never experienced before. He used all the strength of his body and rushed toward the Astartes at a supernatural agility that even the Astartes could not see clearly at that moment. In comparison, Fearless, who looks small in size, and the even more insignificant platinum black lightning blade in his hand——
“You killed him.”
Fulgrim uttered these words coldly, and then waved the platinum blade in his hand.
His body is nimble and light for no reason. The devil's speed seems to be just as slow as an old man's movement in his eyes. The heels of his metal steps rub against the ground, making a slight sound. Fearless lightly brushes against everything. The attack of sharp claws, bone spurs, and sharp teeth "pointed" the blade burning with platinum flames on the back of the demon's neck, which was greatly strengthened by the power of subspace.
In an instant, it was like white phosphorus was thrown into the water.
There was a huge explosion, dazzling light and thick smoke.
Then there was the sound of something bulky falling to the ground with a thud.
"And I have avenged him."
The Iron Hands saw that the sacred machine was almost tired of roaring at the terrifying subspace crack and the resentment behind it. The demon army waved the saber in their hands again.
A supernaturally strong wind blew up, making even the heavy Terminator unsteady.
Then there was nothing there, as if it had never existed.
Only the last remnants of the demon who once called himself Julius Kesolon are dissipating in the evening wind that blows at an unknown time with the last dusk light of Shadenus.
The Purple King's mourning poem is silent.
(End of this chapter)