Chapter 1012 The Prince of Thorns
“Where is your master?”
Gal Mozejie’s hand gripped the man’s shoulder so tightly that he cracked his collarbone.
"Please, my lord. Please."
The man said, and he let out a painful whisper.
"I have served loyally all my life."
"No doubt you think this is unfair."
Galmo Zejie's face was very close to the man's face, He smelled blood and fear, so his fingers moved just a little, and the man sobbed again in unprecedented pain.
“But there is no fairness in the entire universe, don’t you agree?”
Cocking was the only reaction of the man.
"Tell me where the Prince of Thorns is."
The man screamed.
"My lord, please! Please! The master's resting place cannot be known to others. If I tell you, he will skin me alive!"
"I Guess it's no big deal now, don't you?"
"Please, no! He's in the church vault! "
"It's not difficult, is it?"
Gal Mozejie let go of the man, and the other man crawled away tremblingly.
They are in an explorer fortress, which was assigned to them by Abaddon as a stronghold. It has complete facilities. The people here were evacuated directly, so they were not damaged by the war.
More importantly, it is very close to the Red Sand Mountains.
Garmo Zejie was satisfied with this and began to build his plan centered on this place.
Everything went smoothly.
While walking, Garmo Zejie heard the voices of the servants, but did not see them. Occasionally, they ran away from him with hurried steps, like mice on the wall.
Inside the fortress, the air was filled with the smell of complex compounds produced by combustion. His neural detection organs processed it all, allowing him to taste the wonderful aftertaste of death a thousand times.
He walked through corridors clogged with blackened corpses, their twisted limbs and screaming faces carbonized into an angular mass that looked as if some multi-limbed monster had ended it there. life.
In one vast atrium, water, coolant and human waste poured from ruptured pipes, while in others corrosion seeped into the floors, metalwork and dead bodies were covered in a thin Under the rotting fungus, this is the manifestation of the power of chaos.
He went to the fortress's church, where Garmozej smelled the smell of fresh blood.
Soon after, he heard screaming.
"Amon Cal..."
He took a breath and then moved forward cautiously.
The servant did not lie.
The stands in the upper dome of the church are filled with broken relics from centuries of war. The moldy rags are all the remnants of the flags of former enemies. Weapons and bones are piled in the corners. The hands of dozens of separated human civilizations. Artifacts were scattered on the floor.
Every sense of the Dome as a place of remembrance was shattered by the betrayal.
At the same time, it became a haunting place.
There are shackled corpses hanging on each pillar, with signs of cruel torture. The central aisle of the hall is lined with human heads without eyes. The air is filled with excrement, blood, carrion and burnt flesh. The smell of burnt meat.
Braziers, torches and wicks lit with human fat gave the room a hellish light. The few windows were not broken. This creepy, lightless nightmarish scene made the hall look like a Shura. field.
Six simple cages lined one wall, most of them empty, but two were filled with thin and dirty bodies. The only thing that proved they were still alive was the glint in their eyes. They told the outside world He was indifferent to everything, staring directly at the iron table in the center of the room.
A dying person is tied to it, and it is impossible to identify whether it is a man or a woman. The man's lips had been cut off and his eyes had been gouged out. There was some breath on his face, and his skin was hung on a bare shelf in an obscene and obscene way.
There, Garmozej saw the Prince of Thorns, Amon Kal, at work - naked, with black hair shawl, and his body was as pale as a corpse and covered with nerves. holes and the scars left by ritual kill counts.
He is as guilty as every cruel Night Lord, but he also enjoys it, but if you think about it carefully, this is not just for enjoyment, this is the way his twisted morality operates.
"Karl."
Gal Mozejie called softly.
But the other party didn't even raise his head, and just chuckled. The blood of the previous victim and the smooth metal of his neural interface shone in the firelight.
“I heard you coming, your steps are always too heavy, Garmo Zejie.”
“Your reconnaissance and hunting during this period have been of great help to us , the action is about to begin, it’s time to abandon these time-wasting tortures and pick up weapons again.”
"There is nothing to waste time. I taught these people a valuable lesson."
The Prince of Thorns bent down and dug his fingers into the victim's ribs. The latter made an incredibly loud sound. The fainted plaything took two rapid breaths.
Then, with a long breath exhaled, the painful soul was gradually forgotten.
Garmo Zejie watched all this. He knew about the Eighth Legion's obsession with dismemberment and torture, and also learned about their hanging corpses high on pillars in public places and busy roads. The act of pouring thickened liquid onto the wreckage below.
These people are unpopular in many places, but Garmozej is aware of their role - these people are true masters of fear.
"Kill a thousand people."
Staring at the bloody corpse, the Prince of Thorns squinted his eyes and muttered:
"Don't let anyone testify, and don't ask for permission. What achievement? Who would know? Who would respect you or obey you? But kill a man, hang him high, slash him, make him bleed, and... disappear. "
"Who will know? Who will be afraid of you? Who will respect you, who will always obey you?"
" Mortals are very delusional, kill a thousand people and they will hate you, kill a million people and they worship you. But kill one person and they will see monsters and demons in every shadow, kill a dozen people , they will scream and wail in the night, what they feel is not hatred, but fear."
"This is a way of obedience. They are cowardly, delirium beasts, and we should treat these mortals like this."
Galmo Zejie had a smile on his face and clapped his hands gently.
“Yes, that’s right, fear is the most powerful weapon. The fear you spread has spread like a plague among those mortals, along with the information we spilled about the empire’s imminent cleansing. Many people accepted the rumor. "
At this time, Garmo Zejie took out something and threw it to the Prince of Thorns, who grabbed it in his hand.
It was a necklace, stained with blood, and the Prince of Thorns lifted it up.
"A Skyhawk?"
"In a refugee camp you attacked, thousands of people were together, and they committed suicide wearing this thing, and there was a bigger one hanging on the wall."
< br>"So?"
"They pray to the throne that he will come and save them, imagine! Imagine in their fragile little heads, there will never be any drudgery, no shifts, no There are no obligations, rewards or rights imposed, and there is no elusive killer. The end result is probably a painful death, so they regard the emperor as a god!"
Garmo Zejie laughed:
"How quickly they throw away their lives in order to taste the sweetness of hope!"
A smile also appeared on the face of the Prince of Thorns.
“Hope is just an illusion, life is only pain.”
“Then let us bring more pain.”
Garmo Zejie smiled Picking up a helmet tied around his waist, a brand new, baroque, silver helmet.
"First, let's change our appearance."
(End of this chapter)