Chapter 238 You really chose this timing so badly
In the early morning of the ninth day, the snowstorm that had been blowing for eight days stopped.
The bright sunshine shines through the gaps in the lead-gray clouds onto the snow-white ground. The entire sheet of white snow reflects the sky and the earth, making it particularly bright and clear.
Kleist, Jochuka and the others woke up early in the morning, no one needed to wake them up, they were happy because they could have a full day of food, freed slave gladiators They wrapped themselves in rags and sharpened their weapons with stones for the last time.
"Today is a really good day, suitable for letting the slave owners bleed as much as possible before we die." Cromach said.
Angron Petra didn't say much about this. He stood at the front and center of the gladiators' team, standing like the adamantine bow of the Queen of Glory.
He calmly watched as his enemies came into his line of sight - a line of sight far beyond human eyesight, and the other party should not be able to see him yet.
Although these bustling teams are gathered together, they are clearly divided into four major categories.
It is obvious to a commander like Angron.
In addition to the so-called "guards" of the High Riders that he saw yesterday, with mechanical biological enhancements of ancient dark technology implanted in their heads and bodies, he also saw mercenaries, private The technological level of soldiers, militiamen, and other armors and weapons was obviously inferior to that of the Guards. People were driven, pushed, and piled up in front of the front line or under the cliff by money or power.
As he assessed, the auspicious device in his power armor began to list more data for him - thanks again to his brothers, especially the furry one and his body, after hearing that Iron Heart was facing Prepare for him in the event of a threat.
More recently, the new scanning array began to circle many red warning boxes and instruction labels for him indicating that he needed to pay close attention.
There are so many good things.
The Twelfth Primarch narrowed his eyes.
The anti-gravity engines are luxurious in quantity and quality, and their miniaturization and energy conversion efficiency are astonishing.
This kind of exquisite and stable mini-engine can be manufactured in so many and used so commonly in the tribal and slavery environment of this planet, so much so that they can be used as transportation tools for nobles and used in a Transformation on the female gladiator - although he had inferred this when he saw Kleist's weird spear yesterday, he became more enlightened when he saw the actual quantity and extent of use of these ancient technologies.
More than 95% of the probability is that there is at least one or even several complete standard manufacturing templates (STC) that are still functioning normally, and one hundred percent must be about anti-gravity Engine technology.
His eyes swept over a circle of Nucerian High Riders lifted above the driven army by ostentatious golden movable sculptures, great silver wings, and glittering floating silk couches.
The dressing of these flabby and sickly bodies is so exaggerated and extravagant. All kinds of precious gems are inlaid on the surfaces of their masks and vehicles, which are inspired by the early morning sun. The dazzling light was so colorful that each person seemed to be worth the price of an entire kingdom, and each noble looked like a cherub, cloud, halo, Pegasus, winged lion or made of ivory, gold, silver and silk. A statue of a god in the clouds surrounded by other animals.
Maybe this is one of the effects they originally wanted.
If a child has been exposed to this since he was a child... Angron Petra calmly observed his opponent's weapons.
Almost no House of High Rider wields the same weapon, but each appears in the helmet's vision to be extremely dangerous and capable of truly threatening the life of a Primarch: high-frequency sound waves. Directional weapons, microwave radiation high-energy restrainers, material dimension conversion rays...
I see, I can probably guess a little bit.
He thought to himself.
Heh.
At the same time, Angron Petra once again realized how great and incredible the pioneering work his adoptive father and teacher had done in Nuceria for his final war of conquest.
"Really great victories can never be castles in the air. Their foundations are composed of small and ordinary persistent efforts."
He chewed on these words and thought of his adoptive father again. and brother—while turning away the young face of one of his brothers in his mind to spare himself the awkward emotion.
And now this Nuceria is so malicious towards the original Angron!
But fortunately the miracle has arrived.
He stopped his wandering thoughts and turned to the huntress and male swordsman beside him to confirm what he had told them, and they all nodded. "Very good." Angron said, turned on the power armor's reactor to maximum output, and pressed the stance button on his axe.
The smell of ozone and metal began to float in everyone's nose.
"Let them come. I will take their heads, their blood, and their terror for you. Fulfill Angron's oath."
Before the High Riders and their band come into range , a huge golden and silver figure roared down from the sky and rushed into their queue.
His ax is so sharp, his strength is so great, his skills are so high, and his speed is so fast that most of the proud and pretentious high riders have not had time to react. , turning on their ancient technological protective measures.
The heads, with expressions ranging from surprise to fear, flew up into the air one after another like champagne corks being opened.
Then came blood.
The blood spurting out from the headless neck was red, and white hot smoke appeared in the cold air of the snow-capped mountains. Finally, it exploded in the air like a gorgeous firework, and there was a rain of blood. The ground fell from the clouds of gold, ivory and gems, dyeing the pure white snow into deep crimson and pink, as if someone had dropped thousands of roses of different shades on this grand venue.
After being silent for a few moments and "appreciating" the first batch of blood roses showering on them, the crowded crowd below exploded with a "boom" like a herd of frightened animals.
Many people, especially the militiamen, turned around and spread their legs, rolling and crawling away towards the woods below the mountain.
The remaining High Riders shouted in panic, swaying in the air, raising their weapons and trying to aim at him.
Out of the corner of his eye, Angron caught sight of an unlucky guy who was hit by his own material dimension conversion ray after he passed by. His whole person turned over from the inside out, and his chest was full of colorful things. The contents were steaming and scattered all over the snow.
A fat and well-dressed nobleman just blocked the falling line of the Iron-Hearted Death Angel. He narrowed his eyes - based on his previous observations, this person should be the leader.
This guy is almost morbidly fat, which makes it impossible for him to dodge the twelfth primarch as he passes by, even if he steps on his anti-gravity boots and gold-plated cherubs in panic. Swinging with ferocity.
With the faint flash of the decomposition force field, the fat man's fearful and sharp screams came to an abrupt end accompanied by the pouring of flesh and blood.
Before he hit the ground, his ax was just enough to chop open the Tianling Gai of a Nucerian high rider who was bold enough to sneak attack him while he was on the ground.
Then everything gelled.
Time and body are condensed.
But the mind and senses do not.
He saw that the sneaker's brain was shimmering in the gap he had opened, and heat and brain matter were about to emerge from it, maintaining the shape of a condensed white rose of death on the head of the dying man.
Angron Petra's knowledge made him immediately realize that he should be locked by some kind of psychic position and teleportation device.
【What did they do to you? 】
There was a voice speaking in his head. He was very familiar and yet strange at the same time.
The voice didn't sound at all as grand as the one he was familiar with. Instead, it made him feel uncomfortable and tingling, like someone was cutting his brain with a scalpel.
"You are -" Angron frowned to resist the cold and sharp pain, and he spoke slowly, "You are -"
[I am the emperor, and you will follow me. 】
(End of this chapter)