Chapter 487 The Black-Hearted King’s Advice and Crispy Jam Cookies
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Just as Honso told Vannas before going on the stage.
The highly anticipated ragtag vehicles and fleets of thousands of Chaos Space Marines, corrupted Mechanicus, interstellar pirates, xenos and other strange monsters of all sizes and shapes. The championship battle ended in just one minute.
There is not much blood, nor are there any thrilling skills, duels of strength, emergencies from desperate situations, and there are no dramas of betrayal or being betrayed.
Some spectators only took a few bites of the snacks and drinks they bought before the game started.
Some lucky gamblers bet their entire fortune before it is too late.
The fastest championship match since the Skull Harvest Feast was held in the Arena of Thorns ended without incident, making it the most embellished event in the legend in the future.
Uluvente’s head has been accurately cut off by the pharmacist’s robotic arm and placed aside smoothly. The onlookers watched with bated breath, seeing the pharmacist’s steady hand and the unprecedented State-of-the-art instruments allow one of the Adeptus Astartes' most sacred and brief rituals to be performed seamlessly in the presence of the Fallen and even aliens.
Honso knelt half beside the Blood God Champion and carefully inspected the body of the headless World Eater. First, he used a ray knife to cut through the multiple layers of his power armor that had been fused to his own. The rib plate extracted his only remaining gene seed from the twisted and deformed chest cavity filled with rotten blood - this seed was as violent as his master. If you look closely, you can see that it has a thin metal cable-like shape. It was connected with tendons and fangs, but had no eyes, nose or ears. However, when it bit the pharmacist's right hand, it was pinched violently and then stuffed into a freezing jar. This was because of the quick-frozen The temperature gradually calmed down.
Then the Potion Master, accompanied by Grendel and Vannus, who were alertly holding weapons on the left and right, grabbed the blood skull's head, closed the eyes of the World Eater's head with wide eyes, and presented it to the tyrant. He stood in front of his seat and stuck it on the longest and thickest black iron thorn spike under his armrest.
The blood of the last person harvested this time flowed along the thorns and iron thorns, and together with the blood of hundreds of the most powerful and heroic warriors who died before, it was pleasing to the gods in the highest heaven, and at the same time it achieved success. A new tapestry beneath the feet of the tyrant Luft Huron—nothing else.
"You seem to think this is a boring battle, your majesty." Valserx said softly as Honso bowed to them and resigned. "Do you want to admit his victory? I must say, there is no honor, there is no sense of victory between warriors after going through trials, it is as easy as a prank or a collective hallucination."
"This battle," the Black-Hearted King pondered for a moment, "is indeed not very glorious. However, Valserx, the blessing of the unknown god that this hybrid has received and his equipment are so...beyond the usual level. , so that the fighting skills and strength we are accustomed to are useless in the face of this huge gap."
"Witnessing this completely unequal battle makes me don't know what to say. Okay, Your Majesty, I admit that I felt a huge emptiness, and then panic." The alchemist lowered his head slightly and glanced at the pair of metal nerve stimulation whips in his hands, "I think, if it is someone who is not like me. Warriors who also have other knowledge may have more indescribable emotions in their hearts - the Blood God's darlings may not think so much.”
"Ha! Ahem! I like your loyalty and honesty so much, old friend."
The Black Heart King nodded with satisfaction. His perception, which has been abnormally enhanced since his resurrection, is indeed in Walser. Kes tasted the emotion as he said.
"This is indeed the first thing that concerns me. Cough! Cough cough... Moreover, this shameless little bastard has the talent to become a commander who will be famous throughout the ages. The first time I saw him You know it. We are the same kind of people... Even with my pride, I can't deny that he has terrifying battlefield intuition. Without training, he knows when to deploy an attack and when to use it as bait... While most warriors in the galaxy are still learning this knowledge in countless battles, he knows what his opponent wants based on his own talent alone, and can judge the appropriate time at a glance. "The Tyrant was rough. The patchwork stitches and staples tearing the throat slid up and down rapidly, and the protrusions of the metal structure were clearly visible through the bloodless gray skin. "As expected of Perturabo's descendant... There should be a perfect fusion of the Imperial Fist genes. Fabius Bayer's gene manufacturing technology does not seem to be as twisted and advanced as the information we have received. "Many mutations."
The Lord of the Corpse Group, who earned this infamous title for dissecting a large number of enemy and friendly corpses, smiled emotionlessly, and the Lord of the Apothecary followed the tyrant's gaze. His eyes were fixed on Hong Suo's back as he walked outside the field.
"Then?" the alchemist master asked cautiously, "If you don't want to announce your decision or sentence on this occasion, I can prepare some poison later..."
"But Luft Huron kept his word in the Maelstrom, old friend."
The tyrant, who sat majestically on the Throne of Thorns, answered with a twinkle in his only remaining human eye. Dark, ambition and some kind of hope burned together again.
His uncanny warp pet, Hamadria, restlessly shifts back and forth between a skinned monkey and a dog, all the while darting throughout the Tyrant's massive life-sustaining mechanical power armor. Come and go.
“First of all, the fact that a person like him was not born on the side of the corrupt false emperor is our first opportunity. Secondly, this is a smart and capable person, and we did not choose to wait for him behind closed doors. Instead, he traveled thousands of miles to come to me to get what he wanted. In the end, he must have asked for something from me, because he actually wanted to stay here instead of using his talents in war... ...I hope he can take the team he won and go outside the Maelstrom to do harm to the decaying empire...However, the only people I can truly trust are you. We need to capture him...and his soul...old friends. ”
“What does your Majesty mean?”
"You and Galen... must find a way to obtain his technological secrets and make his talents truly useful to us."
"What if we find that we can't really convince him to join?"
< br>"Then it's up to you and Galen," Huron's mechanical right hand opened slightly. The coating on the palm of the Lord of the Maelstrom's power claw was as smooth as new, as red as blood, and the eight-pointed star symbol in the center shone slightly. Light, "Whether he is made into a medical meditator, allowed to be parasitized by demons, or made into a servitor...if he proves to be unable to truly be used by me, then others will never be able to obtain him and his legacy."< br>
"Your wisdom, Your Majesty." The Master of Apothecaries turned his head and smiled after hearing this. Deep wrinkles spread on his thin face, making him look unusually old for a Space Marine. It feels like a twisted ancient tree that is in desperate need of nutrients. "Then now I am looking forward to the arrival of this new colleague. It has been a long time since there have been any useful people on Hell Iris*."
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When all was said and done, it was time for Honso to count the spoils of his harvest.
Some people in Uruvente's warband were not convinced by such a hasty battle at first, thinking that Honso only won with his own equipment, which violated the original intention of the arena. But when Honso stopped Grendel and Vanus, he personally shattered the two warriors who charged at him with the roaring name of the Blood God into crispy jam biscuits, fully demonstrating his centuries-old Imperial Fist. After the hybrid's superior skill in fighting among the Iron Warriors to this day, the Bloodskull warband declared to abide by the results of the Champions War and the authority of Luft Huron, joining them with those of their latest winning team who had just replaced the old banner of the Bloodskulls. Lowered again, rising the silver skull emblem of the Iron Warriors.
And Nosa Aitasia, the leader of the warriors who enjoyed the art of fighting, was lucky enough to survive and claimed that due to Honso not being in the final championship fight Kill him and offer him your allegiance and all the might of your warband.
Of course, the blade dancer later went to Honso's camp for treatment, and as he wished, he was able to try the "delicious and just right" provided by Honso during the hormone balance treatment. The painful course of treatment within - refers to the fact that the potion master literally crushed the blade dancer's ribs under the tight leather armor, and let them all pierce into the lungs and chest of the androgynous swordsman, and according to Ai What Tasia wanted was not to take them out right away, but to use a slow technique to allow the sharp fragments to slowly separate out of the skin over several days.
Of course, the treatment later spread by word of mouth among many followers of Slaanesh and was well received. Finally, when Honso reboarded the warship that had been waiting for them in orbit for a long time, he was the same as when he came, or, first The status and power when he appeared here "again" had become completely different.
He is now a warrior of eighteen thousand warriors of every race and genetic lineage, from ancient wrecked warships dating back to before the Heresy, to the latest captured Imperial Navy cruisers, and beyond. From alien tribal stone balls to gunboats converted from huge and heavy commercial cargo ships, various floating fleets received notices from the tyrant's territory and came to gather around the Battleship, surrounding their new flagship like a halo to occupy a new channel. orbit, forming an extremely large and bulky pirate fleet.
"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty." Honso was still polite to the tyrant Badab when he said goodbye, just like he was still walking on the 30K Olympia as Perturabo's favorite representative The scion was speaking to the Star Claw Chapter Leader and the Guardian of the Maelstrom from Badab, "Seeing that your body is in such worrying condition, I can't wait to serve you and do a comprehensive examination of your body. And alleviate your discomfort, but I think I can't starve these poor people who have taken refuge in me here, and selling them on the spot is undoubtedly a defiance of your authority - unfortunately, their bodies are weak and they are still in need. Eat and drink, they cannot accomplish their mission by photosynthesis alone."
There is no doubt that these sweet words are expressed in such a comforting manner-referring to his serious and respectful belief that Huron has never really fallen. Having fallen into the trap of the Four Gods of Chaos, or actually being successfully seduced by the dark gods - speaking out actually plays into the hands of the conceited tyrant. As Huron commented before, this bastard bastard somehow didn't show any of the famous inarticulateness and taciturnity of Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists. On the contrary, he really knew how to scratch the itch of his interlocutor.
So even though he knew that the Half-Blood War Blacksmith's motives were suspicious, Huron's face, which was patched up with broken skin flaps, still subconsciously revealed a smile.
"Of course." He said half-jokingly, "Go and bring some surprises to the hateful empire. I believe your cunning and strategy will surprise them. When you come back, maybe you can meet me on the Iris of Hell. Two old friends worked together to develop a way for slaves to work all day long without eating or drinking."
"Please give me your kind words, Your Majesty."
"And..."< br>
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On the bridge of the Zhanzhi, Honso met Vannas and Grendel again.
The former was crossing his legs to admire the sight of them emerging from the subspace, while the latter was leaning his ax aside and waiting impatiently.
When the airtight door opened and the Warsmith stepped onto the bridge command deck, his two companions immediately turned their attention to him.
"Look, I said he can come back from Huron's palace." Adalic said with a smile, "Grendel, this reckless man! I have pushed him back several times, He feels that Huron will detain you or do you harm."
"That's not wrong." Honso walked slowly to the command throne and looked at the scenery that Vannas had just admired. As a large number of fleets slowly and cautiously followed the planned route and left, the ominous and dying gloomy and yellow star of New Badab gradually began to disappear from sight, being submerged by the dense stardust and matter in the maelstrom, like a A dim light ball sinking continuously into the depths of the black translucent ocean.
"What do you mean?" Vannas's eyebrows suddenly tightened. "He let you go, but put a bomb in your head? Or in your neck? Under the occipital bone? In your spine?"
"There is really nothing new. Can you only think of these locations? Adalic."
"He really did this?!" The former Raven Guard jumped up from the equipment panel with his legs crossed, but Still landed lightly.
“Of course not.”
Grendel came over and looked at Honso with a frown, seeming to be deciding between “should I care about this half-breed boss” and “should I care about him?” It seems to be inconsistent with my veteran style, which is both internal and external.”
"Then why do you say that he is bad for you?"
Honso's blue eyes swept over the Raven Guard and Iron Warriors.
“He gave me a piece of advice about you.”
“What?”
“He said that the strongest will always be alone.”Honso He smiled calmly, even though the two people in front of him began to get nervous, "He suggested that I kill you after you are no longer useful, so as not to be betrayed."
(End of Chapter)