Chapter 265 Stalker


Chapter 265 Stalker

Marcus Ognis Lucretius could feel death touching every inch of his skin, which made him feel pain—pain that penetrated deep into his bones.

The heretics are doing something in this church, casting a deep shadow, causing sharp sounds to echo in the subspace, like screaming.

Ever since Marcus set foot in Valedo, this feeling has never stopped, following him like the shadow of death.

Just like that damn bird.

It was standing there, its curved claws clutching the edge of the girder.

The bird just stood there, motionless, not blinking, not chirping, not preening her feathers, it just stood there staring at Marcus.

On the pillar below where it rests, there is a sign daubed with blood. The pungent smell passes through the thick stench of smoke and reaches everyone's noses.

That is a spiral surrounding a narrow pupil, a sign of heresy.

The spiral was so perfectly wound that Marcus couldn't help but feel a little trance-like and felt difficulty breathing.

The person who drew this symbol fell under this pillar, his body extremely broken. Only the robes of the state priest he wore during his lifetime and a large number of feather decorations could be vaguely seen, and his skin was also tattooed with colorful tattoos with metallic luster.

This heretic is the bishop of this church and one of the heretics that Marcus is hunting. Before the riot, he had already identified several important lists and planned to arrest them secretly.

But the subsequent rebellion interrupted Marcus' plan. The bishop hid in the shadows. He thought he was perfectly hidden, but he was wrong.

In front of the Inquisitor, heretics have nowhere to hide.

Because Marcus does not need footprints, vision or even sound to hunt, he can follow the smell of heresy in the dark to the pillar where he draws the mark.

Then destroyed him.

Only a few people know that in addition to being a judge, Marcus is also a psyker, a psychic user, which is also his last trump card.

But now, looking at the sign of the heresy, he unconsciously tightened his grip on the family sword in his hand, and the psychic crystal on the top of the sword's hilt also buzzed.

Suddenly, the pillar in front of him began to break, and the fragments flew out and floated in the air around Marcus together with other objects, including tools, rivets, screws, empty bullet casings, broken bones...

These objects floated around the Inquisitor, even the ground beneath his feet shook, and the pipes above his head bent and twisted.

He tasted blood, blood splattered on Marcus's lips, blood on the pillars, blood drawing heretical symbols.

That eye, it never blinks, just like that bird.

"Marcus."

A voice sounded, forcing Marcus to look away from the bird.

One of his followers, Verne, a retired Astra Militarum veteran, was standing to his right, lasgun in hand but not raised.

Not far away, another of his followers, Karsus, an assassin from the Death Cult, was also watching him.

Although his face was hidden under a pale skull mask, Marcus could feel the vigilant and murderous eyes of the Death Cult assassin.

This is not the first time that an accident has happened to him, danger has been waiting for him.

Out of control psychic energy is a problem that every psyker will face.

And the endings are often very bad.

Marcus wanted to speak, but found that he could not speak, as if the blood on his lips had sealed his mouth.

Something was surrounding him like a storm.

Arcs of lightning continued to flash from his exquisitely crafted breastplate, but Verne did not flinch.

"Control."

The meaning of the veteran's words was very clear. His gun did not move, and the hanging muzzle was round and black, just like the bloody eye, like that Like a bird's eyes.

"Control," Malthus repeated in a low voice.

More blood poured into Marcus' mouth, seeming to drown him.

Marcus blinked, constantly recalling the trials he had received in the past, and enriching his heart with firm faith.

After a burst of heat, behind his eyes, he saw it - a giant tree made of human tissue standing in the center of the huge courtyard, its roots tightly wrapped like bird's claws On the ground beneath our feet, the bone-white tree crowns stretched upward, touching the sky full of thunderstorms.

In the sky, a silver-gray falcon is fighting with a giant snake looming in the clouds. Its cry shakes the world.

This is an omen, or a foreshadowing.

After that, Marcus felt the pain in his body lessened,

“Don’t worry.”

He was finally able to speak.

"I won't collapse."

The objects surrounding him fell to the ground one after another, sounding like a storm.

After taking a few deep breaths, Marcus wiped the blood off his face with his hands, leaving red traces.

“I saw it, the enemy is here, in the darkness.”

Seeing Marcus return to normal, several others also breathed a sigh of relief, Verne Then he took the opportunity to light a cigarette.

"Call the fleet?"

"I'm afraid it's difficult. Subspace communication has been shrouded in the shape of dark projections, and everything is changing."

Although the words are very clear, but Marcus knew that few people at the scene understood it. It was more like a cruel joke from the bird.

He had seen the bird for several months, and it had been following him ever since he walked the streets of the hive city of Vigilance.

But only he could see the creature, and he never mentioned the bird to anyone, especially Verne.

This will make him nervous, thinking it's a stupid invitation to die.

Only Marcus himself knows that this is just a mysterious subspace creature, just like all the moments he encountered in his life, it is just another trial.

And he will never collapse.

The veteran walked up to the bishop's broken body, looked at it for a moment, and kicked over the oil lamp on the side. The leaked holy oil immediately ignited a fire and engulfed the remains

"Okay Now it’s up to him to respond to his previous stupidity.”

The Death Cult assassin leaning against the pillar nodded,

"We will all do it, in death."

Although he was used to the other party's pessimism, Verne shook his head this time shook his head.

"Then death must catch me first."

These words made Marcus laugh so loudly that he coughed violently.

"Then death must be very lucky, if you want to catch a thorn like you."

Verne smiled, but it was a real smile.

They all feel pain from the fatigue of fighting. Since arriving on this planet, they have been pulling the trigger almost every second and swinging the combat knife every minute.

Every time the enemy is destroyed, the pain increases, but the pain does not prevent them from continuing to fight, swinging knives, shooting, and killing.

Marcus glanced at the corpse on the ground again, and after confirming that the other party had been completely destroyed, he took out a small encrypted data pad and started recording.

(End of this chapter)

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