Chapter 1921 The Head of Two Hundred Swordsmen (Part 1)
The plan to jump into gangs was terminated. Lucius immediately took people to the Poppy, which was "jumped into gangs", but the communication from this ship was blocked. There was a complete break ten minutes ago.
Although it is hard to believe, reason tells Lucius that the one hundred Slaanesh warriors on the ship who can move freely through the hail of bullets and swords and halberds are all doomed.
And the one who did all this, if the message he received was correct, was just one person.
Interesting, very interesting, even his intuition told him faintly——
That's who he's looking for.
So he ignored the dissuasion of some people and insisted on going there in person. Cleon even wanted to sink the ship, but Lucius stopped the demon. He didn't know why the other party was so afraid. , but this is something he must solve.
This is something that he must put an end to in order to achieve true perfection.
The regrets left on Istvan III must also end.
Soon, several Thunderhawks carried Lucius's most trusted warriors to the Poppy, which had stopped its engine. Along the way, the slaves mourned the tragic death of their master, but Lucius was Ignored.
But these soft bones did tell him a useful piece of news.
The other party is waiting for him on the bridge.
Great, that will make things easier.
This style made him more and more convinced that he should be that person.
The bridge of the Poppy is more like a nest than a command center. The shabby flags from each company of the Third Legion are hung from the ceiling, undulating in the air stirred by the ventilation fan, luxurious The carpet was made of human skin, and huge white bones lined the walls. When the warriors of Slaanesh strode past, the eye sockets of those broken skulls seemed to grow out of thin air, and the fanged jaws opened silently. laugh.
On the dome, bells made of human bones and skins, wind chimes and chains jingled without rhythm. Slaves with tattoos and marks of Slaanesh on their bodies lay on the ground, holding plates of rotten meat in their hands. and other unpleasant consumables, stained with stale perfumes and various stimulants and addictive drugs.
The observation window in the distance is shaped like a screaming mouth. The faint light of the lavender explosion-proof glass combined with the smoke lingering in the room makes the entire environment look dreamlike. At the same time, the corners and walls On the top, you can still see the remaining succubi letting out shrill wails, filled with grief for the tragic death of their lovers, their vicious claws clicking along with the cries, and their bodies flickering in and out, like The candle swaying in the wind struggles to maintain its physical form.
In front of the observation window is a huge command throne, covered with cushions and silk. A tall figure is leaning on the throne, surrounded by many snake-like things surrounding him, like pets. Also coiled at his feet, they were all slaves of the original Slaanesh warriors, but were forced to serve another existence by force. The high platform under the throne was completely made of those annihilated Slaanesh warriors. Their armor Skinned, the whitened flesh was split open and became stepping stones for the former slaves.
As he got closer, Lucius could see the guy clearly. He didn't look very tall. He was wearing simple power armor and a helmet. He held his head with his left fist as if he could feel it through the dark eyepiece. Seeing the mocking gaze, two swords were placed sideways beside the throne, one a red power sword and the other wrapped in yellow silk.
Seeing this, Lucius' brows twitched slightly, as if he was remembering something, and his expression slowly turned from mocking at the beginning to serious.
At this time, the man nodded slightly and seemed to be looking Lucius up and down.
"I must admit that your parody of imitation piqued my interest."
When Lucius stopped, dozens of the most elite members of the Nasike Brigade The veteran spread out in a fan shape and pointed the firearm in his hand at the person on the throne. Their bodies no longer had the original gorgeous and clean purple armor. The parts not covered by human skin revealed extremely different colors and patterns, black and silver. Mixed with the rose color, there are also armors that change different hues like iridescence with every heartbeat. A few people still wear purple power armor and step into the battlefield, but all their former glory is lost, and instead they are covered with blackened flesh.
The Emperor's Children Legion has been dead for a long time, and the Nashikai Battalion is just a fragment of a corpse, only assembled under the corruption of the Legion. The Immortal glanced at the dead Slaanesh warriors, and then sneered.
"When did you become so artistic?"
The man did not reply. Instead, he sat up straight and looked at the other man without a helmet, the pharmacist Kesa - he His face is flawless, with no battle or self-inflicted scars like other brothers. His thick black hair is combed back, his eyes are dark amber, and his pale face always has a cold and gloomy gaze. The pharmacist looks incredibly young. , it is impossible to imagine that his qualifications are almost as long as the legion with the same name.
He has seen the Legion decline, rise, and then fall again. He has fought against the assassins, participated in the purification of the killing fields of Istvaan, and spread screams in the throne world. His long life has witnessed Learn who the Emperor's Children were in the past, and what they have become now.
Then, the mysterious man on the throne sighed and shook his head.
“You shouldn’t be like this, Caesar. You once said that you may not be the most perfect swordsman, but you will create the most perfect heart for yourself. Is this the perfection you pursue? ?”
His voice was full of distortion after the adjustment of the helmet, but after hearing those words, the former army pharmacist took a step forward as if he was electrocuted.
"Who are you!"
The other party did not answer, Caesar turned to look at Lucius.
"The Immortal, you know him, right? Who is he!? Why does he know what I said!"
Lucius took a deep breath, Naxikai Others in the brigade are also whispering secretly. Everyone is not an idiot. Some of them have already guessed that the person above may have been a member of the legion
Loyalists who should have been slaughtered.
"Put away your little tricks of sowing discord, I don't want to lose my pharmacist just like this."
Caesar was stunned, and then he looked at the man wrapped in yellow silk sword, his pupils shrank suddenly, and something almost forgotten emerged from his mind, which was almost numb due to torture by the surrounding environment.
“Yes, could it be——”
“He is not!”
Lucius shouted to stop Caesar's next words, as if it was something terrible. At this time, his scarred face was already a little distorted, and his breathing became more and more rapid.
"He's not. That man has been dead for ten thousand years."
Then, he put his hand on the hilt of Lal's Blade and stared at it intently. Looking at the figure on the throne.
"This game is boring, Sol Tarvitz."
(End of Chapter)