Chapter 340: Mad Bat Blood Hunt
The dazzling light penetrated the darkness.
This is a team of Soul Drinkers, moving slowly, unhurriedly, and carrying out a mission with a certain degree of confidence.
The group was scattered throughout the cabin, overturning debris and examining the walls for marks, their internal voices clicking as they talked among themselves.
They even communicated frequently in sign language.
This piqued the interest of the Hunter observing them, as he was also adept at mastering the Astartes' fighting gestures.
He watched with curiosity how easily his enemy betrayed him.
The hunter watched silently as the shining spear of light cut from this direction and that direction, revealing the wreckage deep in the ruins.
They are looking for something.
Obviously, the goal is consistent with myself.
They had suspicions about the ship.
This is also very natural. Anyone would be suspicious of a hulk that suddenly appears, but this is not even a riddle to the hunter.
A trap deployed by a loser who tries to control his destiny.
Not worth mentioning.
Thinking of this, the hunter smiled and whispered something to the machine soul on the armor. This sentence informed the soul of the armor that the hunting was really about to begin.
"Preying vision."
The next second, his vision was filled with a deep blue like the sea, rendered by the thermal light emitted by the moving life forms.
The hunter watched the team advance and divided into two teams of five people in each team.
This is going to be fun.
A low laugh came from under the bat-winged bone-faced helmet. He had not hunted like this for a long time.
About——
Ten thousand years.
He chose to follow a group of men, following them through the corridors, knowing that the harsh roar of his power armor and the noise of its servo joints would not be lost on the dim-witted rookies. heard.
Of course, the word "rookie" may be used incorrectly, lacking respect for the enemy.
They are Astartes after all, and they are hunters - the weaker kind.
The former Night Lord's pale lips curved into another sly smile.
Oh, how unfortunate.
Savitar monitored the readings on his retinal monitor, resisting the urge to click on the runes to confirm that the hunt would be so easy that he wouldn't even need to use his psychic gifts.
After all purity consists in the commandment of certain things until they become necessary.
His visor flashed with the location runes of Thor and Soshyan, noting their position on the ship the hunter sprang into action, it had been a long time since he had splattered the blood of an Astartes in the dark .
He may be a powerful warrior, but he is also a terrifying killer.
Savitar prefers to hunt in the dark.
A true hunter does not avoid being seen by his prey, and only revealing his stalking when the prey is killed is just the act of a coward and a ghoul.
Where is the excitement in this?
A Night Lord is raised by other, truer laws.
Sevatar walked through the shadows like a ghost, judging the strength of the opponent's auditory receptors.
What could they hear...
He followed them down a corridor, then lightly rubbed his gauntleted knuckles against the metal wall.
The Soul Drinkers immediately turned around and shined the beams on their helmets into his face.
This seemed to work, and the hunters had to admire them.
For half a heartbeat, the light would illuminate his vision and blind him.
Savitar completely ignored the beam, disappearing into the shadows of a side corridor as they opened fire.
Five minutes later he came to the door again. This time he set a gorgeous trap and waited for the opportunity.
He stuck his halberd in their path.
It was like an invitation to go straight into the cabin to get it. It was obviously a trap.
But how can they resist?
The Soul Drinkers were all alert. They raised their bolters and scanned around, mentally entering a state of alert.
They recognized the halberd, the weapon that had killed many of their brothers before, but they did not understand why this thing appeared here, and they couldn't help but go forward to check it.
Then Sevatar left the ceiling.
He landed with a thud on the deck behind the Soul Drinker, his armored hands swooping forward to grab the last member of the group.
The other instinctively turned and fired.
"Don't-"
After firing three bolts into his brother's body, Sevatar couldn't help but laugh at the guy's stupidity.
The Night Lord gripped the quivering human shield that fought against him, watching the thermometer on his retinas flicker as the blood of the dying man splattered his armor.
The quivering Soul Drinker was nothing more than a sack of frozen flesh in his hands as the bolt detonated, nearly killing the man and tearing off the power armor.
"Good fight."
Savitar said into the crackling audio in his helmet, throwing the bleeding human shield aside and jumping to the other, fingers like giant claws Just as open.
The battle was brutal and short.
The Night Lord was as fast as a gust of wind. He grabbed the bolter directly from the opponent's hand, smashed the muzzle of the gun directly into the man's eyepiece, and then pulled the trigger.
The helmet was smashed to pieces after the gunshot, and Sevatar let go of his hand and let the man fall.
Two gunshots rang out, and the bullets streaked through his cloak, leaving two big holes.
Then he turned around and pulled out his halberd, waving his arms amidst the roar, cutting the two soul drinkers in half.
Blood rolled out.
The fifth man tried to slash with his sword, but Sevatar struck the man in the chest with the end of his halberd, knocking the man to the ground. Then he stepped up and broke the man's arm with a kick.
"This looks very brittle."
Savitar bent down and looked at the eyepiece, hatred burning in the soldier's eyes.
The man was yelling something, he was probably scolding him.
Sevita wasted a few seconds just to appreciate these words, this desperate feeling, and the pleasure of the prey's struggle.
Then he smashed the mask with his fist, cracking the helmet with one blow.
One punch, two punches, three punches -
Until the opponent stops moving.
"Savitar."
At this time, the voice channel hissed.
“Say it, Thor.”
"We encountered a fear monster."
"It's not a surprise. It's not like you wouldn't have guessed it."
"Is everything done over there?"
"Brother, look at this hulk. It's as empty as Soshyan's head. It doesn't have anything of value. I didn't even see a servitor. How do you want me to find that thing? Who knows that subspace hides it? Where is it?"
Savitar cut off the voice server as he walked through the black corridor. He could no longer stand Thor's chatter.
Now he must be alone and finish the work seriously.
This was not done voluntarily, and everything he had done so far was not done voluntarily, but there was no way around it. After all, the root cause of all this was -
The sin of the father.
(End of this chapter)