Warhammer: In the Name of Nirvana

[The Tears of Reason] is like the brightest and hottest fireball, falling from the sky and falling straight into the nest of ants.

Huge crashing sounds and air waves swept in all directions, setting off one steel storm after another. In the violent rain filled with blood and iron, the Dark Angel's army filed out of the cabin.

What greeted them was Ran Dan's army, which was as dense as a swarm of ants.

Tens of thousands of Randan warriors and flesh slaves gathered from all corners of the Battle Moon. Compared with the high-spirited Astartes warriors, these alien elites who were either fanatical or forced were no less willing to fight to the death. Determination and motivation to the end, they kept moving forward despite the airtight fire net, and in the blink of an eye, they covered every corner of the relic battleship.

In this way, the first battle broke out in the cabin and deck of the relic warship. Hundreds of Dark Angels and dozens of times more powerful opponents fought in the corridors and cabins. The high temperature of the explosive weapons, the heat of the energy beam and the combination of explosive bombs. The downpour of rain shines on each soldier's face and life.

At least thirty of the best Astartes warriors fell one after another in this most chaotic hand-to-hand battle, while those battle brothers who were still alive stepped on hundreds of alien corpses and cleared this Shura. field.

Then, they rushed out of the battleship and burned the war on Ran Dan's land, where what awaited them was an almost uncountable number of alien scum. In just one close combat, the Dark Angels' queue was destroyed. Completely washed away.

The complete organizational structure no longer exists, and battle groups composed of dozens, dozens, or even just a few veterans have become the main force that continues to fight. The tacit understanding they have developed through intermittent communicators and long battles has become the basis for the battle. Tie, in the frenzy of Ran Dan's army, high walls of flesh and blood were erected one after another.

But not all warriors are like this. Some warriors are unfortunately separated from all their battle brothers. Most of them are eventually drowned in the endless waves after killing dozens or even hundreds of times more enemy troops. In the midst of the alien craze.

But there are always some lucky ones.

——————

"die."

Hector let out a short history scolding.

Along with his voice, the sword that was constantly flashing with bright green light made a harsh sound in the cold and thin air, like a sharp sickle cutting through the fields of wheat.

The Randan warrior in front of him fell down, and with this fatal blow, its throat began to spurt out blasphemous blood, staining the Astartes' armor.

But the rising star of the Second Legion did not relax his vigilance. He raised the explosive gun in his hand and fired blazing flames at the alien's chest until it completely turned into a corpse as described in the tactics book.

After doing all this, Hector raised his head and looked around: he had completely separated from the Astartes army, and now he was surrounded by various alien corpses, some of which were Ran Dan's. , and some were terrifying aliens that he had never heard of.

Victory and killing are not without price. Hector's right arm was completely penetrated by the dying blow of a Randan warrior. Senbai's bones were exposed to the air, feeling the bone-chilling chill, while the bones in his chest and legs Internally, large and small wounds and knife marks are constantly repeating the eternal cycle of bleeding and scarring. The blades of Randan soldiers are often smeared with strange poison, and even the firm nerves of the Astartes warriors are deeply affected. Its disturbing.

At the same time, his ears also caught more gasps and roars: more and more aliens have been attracted by the battle here, like vultures surrounding a dying lion.

He might die here.

Such thoughts flashed through Hector's mind.

But he just held the sword and continued to move forward.

"In fact, sometimes, death is not bad news, but the so-called eternity, which can be a kind of torture."

For some reason, at this moment, battle brother Trazin's words came back to his mind. He still remembered how the humorous senior sat on the chair and spoke these words in a tone that could be described as lonely. .

He also remembered that when others continued to ask questions, Brother Trazin obviously did not want to talk about this topic anymore.

And while Hector was immersed in memories, he heard a strange sound.

It was a wail.

The wails of hundreds, if not thousands, of aliens.

The sound was so piercing, terrifying, and twisted, as if their souls were being pulled out alive by some indescribable monster.

Hector moved his shoulders. He stepped cautiously and moved towards the source of the sound bit by bit.

Passing through a road that could be described as a mountain of corpses and a sea of ​​blood, he finally came to an open place for a gluttonous feast, where he saw the figure.

That silver-white figure.

——————

The third thousandth?

Or five thousand?

Morgan yawned lazily. She closed her eyes and exposed her neat teeth and her pink tongue safely inside to the cold air.

Just like a laid-back Persian cat.

Just like this, this Persian cat with blue eyes was sitting leisurely on a hill where the corpses of hundreds of Randan warriors were piled up. Its two long legs were intertwined, and one arm stood on the corpse to support it. It held the almost paralyzed body, while the other one was hovering in mid-air, making clear finger snaps from time to time.

Whenever this sound sounded, collective wailing and struggling would appear on most of the battle moon covered by Morgan's will. Ran Dan's army looked at everything in front of them in amazement: their comrades suddenly began to fight crazily. Roars and pain, constantly tearing at the armor, and even biting his companions like crazy. This madness will last for more than ten seconds, until everyone falls down at the same time and can no longer get up.

And Morgan only needed to open her mouth, and another delicious meal was delivered to her door. After a brief digestion, she snapped her fingers again, and thousands of Randan warriors would be thousands of miles away in a new round of competition. Died painfully while struggling.

She has never enjoyed such a feast. Tens of thousands of sweet souls are rushing under the net of her consciousness, and they are harvested by her in pieces. These blasphemous black crystals may not be as delicious as the Eldar, but The victory is to have a large amount and to manage enough.

She could even feel that with this unprecedented act of gluttony, her dusty memories were slowly thawing, revealing the next tip of the iceberg.

However, the joyful laughter continued to grow louder and louder in her heart.

Morgan listened to it and stopped eating.

Faced with this irresistible, increasingly crazier and distorted laughter, she could only...

He continued to eat anxiously.

But it was not all plain sailing. After Morgan devoured about thirty to fifty thousand delicious meals, she realized that a powerful column of light began to gather around her.

There has never been a shortage of psykers in Ran Dan's army, what's more, because their home planet is close to the terrifying eyeball, and the blasphemous belief is also alive and well in the dark places of the alien empire. Ran Dan's spirit The capable are often more crazy, powerful, and desperate.

A dozen psychic creatures second only to the [Warmaster] were advancing towards Morgan's location. They turned into streams of pure black light, scrambling to snatch this extremely powerful opponent.

It really worked.

Morgan stopped eating temporarily, touched her chin, and then thought of something.

——————

When Hector arrived, the scene in front of him made him silent for a moment.

The alien corpses piled up here to form a mountain of corpses and a sea of ​​blood, while the person who started everything sat on the top of the mountains of the dead, without even getting his fingers wet.

She was holding an alien corpse. Hector could recognize it as a high-level psyker from Ran Dan's army. She looked at the alien's face thoughtfully.

【Fear can give birth to sweetness. 】

[Things that die from fear are indeed more delicious. 】

【There is just some trouble. 】

She seemed to be murmuring to herself, and seemed to be asking Hector softly.

[So, what causes fear? 】

Hector didn't make a sound. He just stood quietly at the foot of the Mountain of Flesh, with his head slightly lowered, standing like the most ordinary guard.

He stood like this, like a stone statue, letting Morgan's whispers wander among the flesh and blood. Then, he heard a few snaps of fingers, and vaguely heard countless wailings. These distorted sounds were accompanied by coldness. The sound of wind came and soon disappeared without a trace.

Hector listened to these voices, and in his heart he began to worry about his squad: Salieri, Ajax, and his respected mentor Chiron, from whom he was separated, which was a rare thing.

He began to consider whether to ask... to request.

Then he heard a chuckle.

[The light of the stars is fair. 】

[As long as the travelers do not step out of her territory, she will naturally look at each of them, and the light will shine on their shoulders, so there is no need to worry. 】

[But some travelers can only get equal exposure and sight, while some... can get more. 】

[After all, even the stars will favor those who are the most powerful, loyal, and talented. 】

The sound reached Hector's ears, and he still stood there, looking neither sad nor happy.

But in private, Astartes' fingers were tightly clasped together. He didn't know what emotion it was. Maybe it was excitement? Or shocked?

Hector didn't know.

But he knew very well that when the sentence "You can get more" came like a whisper in his ear, at that moment, his heartbeat did speed up.

Maybe more than a moment.

He stood, listening to the whispers, laughter, and footsteps getting closer and closer, until something seemed to float from the air, with its back to him, and sat on his left shoulder.

"boom……"

Hector couldn't help but stumbled, and his knees made an overwhelming sound.

Good weight……

He couldn't help but murmur in his heart.

The Persian cat lady who was about to sit on his shoulder paused obviously, and then Hector could feel a sight coming from her. There was an instinctive chill in that sight that made his whole body tremble.

At that moment, he felt so...

Weak.

But fortunately, the gaze finally withdrew, and Hector could hear the whispered, rapid spell, spoken so fast that he couldn't even hear it clearly.

Then, the weight on my shoulders became much lighter.

He could feel the lady leaning on his backpack, crossing her legs, putting one hand on her helmet, and the high heels of her riding boots and the hem of her gauze skirt kept hitting his armor.

She seemed to be immersed in the low pressure for a while.

Then, there was another snap of the fingers, this time the sound seemed to be particularly loud, and the wailing, wails and screams that came from it were also particularly loud.

Hector waited a moment longer, until the low pressure ended with a sigh of contentment.

【lets go. 】

A direction appeared in his mind out of thin air.

"Yes...ma'am."

Hector responded solemnly, looked at the stars above his head, and then began to move forward.

Above their heads, a battle of blood and fire was taking place. The stars were dyed red with blood, leaving scarlet shadows on the ground.

It shines on the silent corpses.

It also shines between the two people who are equally silent.