Chapter 505: The Bad Visitor
The gunship took off as the battleship carrying it passed close to the planet.
In the cockpit, a figure in black armor was looking at the track of the new Badab, warning lights washing over his vision.
The planet looks like a disgusting lump of yellow fat through the smoke, debris shrouding its orbit, and twisted metal like continuous banks, shining.
There is no doubt that there was a big war here not long ago.
He corrected his course to ensure they would not approach the warning zone, then locked onto the primary target and pushed the engines to maximum output.
Even though he was wearing power armor and locked into the pilot's device, as the pressure increased, he still felt the hammering sensation of increasing to full speed.
"Warning, the current engine operating status and movement trajectory will cause damage."
The mechanical prompts rubbed his ears, and he ignored them.
He didn't ask the meatless tech-priest to tap into the gunship's communications, but it would inevitably do so, for a human being who was supposedly stripped of emotion for the sake of pure logic. That person's foresight was outstanding.
"The probability of engine output reduction is currently eighty-five point two-one."
After a moment, the mechanical voice added:
"Estimated value."
He No reply, which makes no sense.
The target in front of us is rapidly approaching, and the outer guard warship that serves as the first line of defense for the Ghost of Destruction is growing from a distant dot to a metallic outline projected by starlight.
Then he threw the gunship into an irregular spiral trajectory and saw the two warning runes on the helmet flashing from yellow to red.
"Activate combat display."
After he finished speaking, the space around his body turned into a network of blue, red and green arcs representing potential targets.
Of course, they did not include warships - he suspected that even if he fired at the smallest warship, he might not be noticed at all.
"Augurs and multiple targeting arrays have locked onto us."
"Send an identification signal."
"Obey."
The Tech-Priest hummed in response:
"It is recommended that we reduce our speed and adjust our course to a stable trajectory. and turn off the weapon."
"No."
He answered coldly, without pause.
"Send a signal and see if they still feel that their best course of action is to blow us out of the void."
The perimeter guard warships have now become the ones blocking the new bus. The towering cliffs of Dabu's sight and starlight, beyond them awaited the inner defense warships, and in the center of their array was the huge and angular silhouette of the Ghost of Destruction.
Obviously the Huron fleet suffered some losses, but it was not devastating, and the pirate king obviously had reserve forces hidden elsewhere. There were at least two heavy cruisers and one in the fleet. The battlecruiser was not in the red pirate fleet he collected.
He suddenly pulled the gunship up, flew out on a zigzag trajectory, and then flashed back to the spiral state. The target locking voice kept appearing in his ears.
He waited while feeling the familiar feeling of the body in the armor being pulled by G force.
He missed this, missed the control of man and machine, and the sense of crisis echoed in his consciousness. It made him feel reborn and made him forget what he had lost.
At the same time, the dance in the Red Pirate's gun sighting system has another meaning.
Cut in, weapons activated, aim activated, and if they dare fire, let them die.
It is a message, a statement that means something - don't confuse strength with power.
Of course, he didn't want to put this kind of thing into practice.
“The opposing warships have deactivated their targeting.”
“Very good.”
“They are sending their greetings to us.”
"Give me the microphone."
"Obey."
Static buzzed in his ears, then faded away. "The battleships and warriors of the Black Heart King welcome you, respected envoy."
The voice paused, and the people in the cockpit felt that they recognized it, the harsh tone , sharp words, used to drive rather than show politeness.
Kelkus, of course it is him.
Not the Hurons, not yet, not until they could confirm why they were here.
"Where did you come from?"
Kelkus's voice asked cautiously.
Behind the black visor of his helmet, the man gave a dry laugh.
“I come from the Warmaster.”
He replied.
The other party was silent for a few seconds, and then asked in a more humble tone.
"Who is your Excellency?"
The visitor chuckled, like a midnight ghost, and then he slowly said his name.
“Iskander Kayan.”
Half an hour later, the gunboat arrived at the hangar of the Ghost of Destruction. Several warriors in black armor walked out of the open hatch and headed all the way to the person they needed to see.
After walking for about ten minutes, they saw the all-powerful tyrant.
But the tyrant's condition is a bit bad now.
The tyrant was still sitting high on his throne, trying hard to maintain his posture. A metal claw scraped against the right armrest of the throne.
The wound caused by Soshyan was no longer bleeding, except for a few drops occasionally.
Looking at the people appearing in front of him, Huron inhaled in a low voice, tightened his arms, clenched his claw blades, and pierced deeply into the obsidian.
Although he tried hard to maintain his posture, all this could not be hidden from Iskandar Khayan - he is the most outstanding wizard in the Black Legion and one of Warmaster Abaddon's most trusted lieutenants. .
At the same time, this wizard from the Thousand Sons was also one of the first people to forge the Black Legion.
Kayon raised his head, his eyes closed briefly and his pale lips parted.
In another vision, Huron's figure kept flickering, and there was a ghostly shadow behind the throne. The blood seeping from the gaps in the armor trembled and blurred in the shadow, and then disappeared, and tiny ghosts surrounded it. Howling uncontrollably above his head.
Even though he was so far away, Kayon could still taste the warm smell of rust, sulfur, and sweetness.
Huron's condition is much worse than he showed, and even his ability to survive is already a gift from the subspace.
Thinking of this, Kayon, who had a melancholy face and amber skin, smiled, and then opened his eyes.
"Lord Luft Huron, the Warmaster asked me to send you his regards."
"Abaddon's regards, of course."
Huron smiled and shook his head, but this action made the wound in front of him open wider, and the damaged armor near the wound wrinkled and turned up like a sneer.
Kayon was certain that the rumor was true, and Huron had lost a heart.
Then the tyrant picked up the cup beside him, which contained a red-black liquid, and he drank it all in one gulp.
Kayon frowned, not because of the other party's behavior, but because of the liquid.
He could feel that there was some violent power and dark witchcraft in the liquid, much like the magic potion "Feather of Heaven".
Although the name may seem very beautiful, the process of making this potion is extremely cruel. It requires the naturally conceived and conscious but unborn fetus to be taken out of the mother's body, then crushed and mixed with several kinds of demon blood, and then purified. ——Tens of thousands of fetuses may only have a few milliliters.
The size of Huron's sip——
After drinking the potion, Huron's decline was instantly wiped away, and he returned to his former domineering and shrewd self.
"Tell me what Abaddon asked you to do."
(End of this chapter)