40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 105 8. Flames of Rage ([-])

People bleed and people die.What else?
And the way it caused them to bleed.

Growling, Angron swooped forward from the darkness and grabbed one of the slaveholders' bodyguard.The man didn't panic, the silver tentacles straightened in an instant, turning into some kind of flexible blade, and pierced Angron's abdomen.

The pain was fleeting, but Angron was indifferent.He grinned grimly, ignoring the resistance of the bodyguard in his hand, forcibly held him down, then raised his fist and hit him on the head.

The guard's expression quickly became panicked, and the tentacles that were hurting Angron also retracted and turned into a shield, blocking his head.

But Angron didn't need to do anything anymore, he had already succeeded.It was a little trick, one of countless tricks he had learned from Oinomouth.When the latter was still alive, he had been told that it was necessary to distract the enemy.

And now, he uses it.

His left hand slammed into the guard's chest, the metallic touch was fleeting, followed by a crisp sound, followed by the familiar sticky touch, and the smell of blood became more pungent.

He laughed maniacally, his face twitching—their emotions filled him: fear, resentment, contempt, someone calling him a monster in his heart, and Angron didn't care.

He stood up howling, the pain in his head made everything in front of him covered with a scarlet curtain.The guards roared and whipped him, ordered him to go away, but Angron just laughed.

Oinomouth—and all gladiators, they sneered at pain, at their enemies.They can be bruised and bleed to death, but they will not bow their heads.

He laughed mockingly, ignoring the biting pain in his head, and rushed towards a personal guard with all his strength.

He didn't get what he wanted, and the silver vine rushed quickly from the shadows and grabbed his arm, the sharp surface cut the skin and made him bleed, but he didn't care at all.

Angron rushed forward like crazy, the tentacles could trap him briefly, restrain him, but they couldn't really make him submit.

They never made him submit, they drugged him, they could kill the gladiators to fight for them again and again, they even put the damn nails on him, but they couldn't make him submit.

He would never kneel before them.

"Go away, you crazy beast! Do you think you're still a Talco treasure?! The Butcher's Nails will kill you in a few months, and we don't mind speeding up the process! Get the hell out of here!"

Angron didn't answer, just howled, broken howling.He was in so much pain that it made his voice scary.

He wanted to respond, and in between the pain, he wanted to sneer and scold how despicable these things that are slave owners' dogs are like before.

He wanted to refute them, he was not a 'treasure' at all, he was human like other gladiators, not their slaves.However, when the words came to his lips, he could only utter broken roars and roars.

Nails cut through his sanity, wanting him to bring more violence to them.In the scarlet curtain, everything changed, and turned into ghosts pouring towards him like mountains and seas.

The guard's face was distorted into a monster, muttering to make him look good.The silver vines that bound him became their rotting hands and feet, upon which the faces of their victims appeared.

Angron was so painful that he could barely breathe, but he roared again because of these familiar faces.

He remembered every gladiator who died, even if he didn't know their names.

Roaring, he broke free from the silver vine, and several guards roared angrily, thinking that he would attack.

Their voices grew in his ears into some sort of terrible growl, but Angron's first instinct was not to attack them, but to drive his thick fingers deep into the back of his head, which seemed to be Among the braids of iron and steel, and stirred deeply.

He wants to tear them off.

He roared, and the nails resented, dissatisfied with his resistance, and they poured more misery into him.These things almost turned his blood into boiling magma, and the words of the guards continued to add fuel to the fire.

"He's gone crazy! Let's go, we're going to kill those intruders!"

"I'm going to kill you!"

Angron laughed madly, his face contorted into a terrible whirlpool, his nose was bleeding, his eyes were also bleeding, and the saliva overflowing from his mouth was also tinged with scarlet.

He rushed over, grabbed a man with a wild laugh, and tore his head off at a speed several times faster than before.The spine was pulled out quickly along the body, and the feeling of bone colliding with bone was so slow and wonderful in his hands.

One violence he did, he killed a man by the coercion of the nails—with tears in Angron's eyes, he cried out for no reason, threw the head aside, and began the killing.

The personal guards were able to resist a little at first, but they were a small group of people after all, and the silver vines could not restrain Angron for too long after all.What's more, this place is still deep in the cave, not as wide as the ground, leaving room for them to fight.

Only a few minutes later, Angron killed them all with his own hands.He trembled in pain, the nail was not satisfied, not even for a second.

He had just killed these people, his hands had just been stained with blood, the feeling of hammering heads or tearing people in half was still clearly there, but the nails just didn't satisfy.They screamed and writhed in his head, tormenting him with their spikes, false hallucinations and stinging pain.

In the end, all of it even got mixed up into a pain that made him feel like his head was going to split in two.

He knelt down on the ground, in the pool of blood he had created with his own hands, his crippled sanity was praying that no gladiators would approach him at this moment, but Nail was yelling at him, asking him to kill them together.

Angron fought back with all his strength, brought himself to the edge of the rock on his knees, and bumped into it with his forehead, each time harder—he would rather die than let his hands get any horns. Fighter's blood, no more.

Oynormouth's blood is still vivid, and he killed him in pain. Will he kill more?But the nails were still urging, still gnawing at his skull and brain.

Angron howled unconsciously, his body was covered in blood, his wounds were bursting, his veins were bulging, and his face was full of anger.He began to pound the wall with his head, desperately fighting against the nail, trying to let everything end here—but at this moment, a voice came into his chaotic heart.

"Calm down, Angron," said the voice in a soft voice. "I'm here to help you."

The bloody giant turned his head suddenly, and saw a pale man standing in the darkness and staring at him quietly.His thinking ability has been completely broken, but at this moment he suddenly felt some disharmony.

Angron opened his mouth blankly, blood rolled over his face, and in the crimson, he found that the man was tall—and his eyes were shining.

Blue light, a light different from scarlet.The light was tiny, and it could even be called faint compared to the surrounding scarlet. Looking at it, Angron suddenly felt a calm chill.

He knelt on the spot, watching the man slowly approaching him, and then, he found that he was actually taller than him.Most people were as tall as he was even when he was sitting down, but this man was different.

this person.
"Who are you?" Angron growled.

He wanted to talk, didn't want his voice to sound so close to a pre-violent threat, but he couldn't help it.

Although the pain has subsided a lot, the nails are still gnawing at it.As long as they exist, he cannot escape pain.And this howling is just a part of its side effects, even considered slight among them.

"My name is Khalil Rohars." The man said, his voice was extremely gentle, and there was even an emotion in it that Angron couldn't understand. "I'm here to help you."

"help me?"

Angron looked back blankly, unable to comprehend that he was broken.

Totally broken.

Khalil slowly tightened the lines of his face, waiting for Angron's answer.

He knew that the Emperor's sons were scattered throughout the galaxy.Under such circumstances, they each have their own experiences, which is normal.

He has met five of them, seven if Conrad and Angron in front of him are counted, and everyone's experience is different, just take Lorgar Aurelion and Robert Key Let's talk about Liman.

A poor man who is very religious but not really religious, and a son of a nobleman who tries to see the world rationally and has a good family-they have very different life experiences, but at least they are both complete.

They weren't broken, not as broken as this man before him.He stared into Angron's eyes, trying to find something in them that might help him in the moment, but he couldn't see anything.

Nothing remains but pain.This person seems to have been hollowed out, leaving only a twisted mind and a powerful body belonging to the Primarch, but what else?He is even a suicidal person who is tortured by pain. Even if he uses the smallest unit of psychic power to appease him, he can't even feel anything other than numbness.

Khalil looked at the things that were deeply implanted in his scalp like steel cables at the back of his head, and his eyes became a little dangerous at a certain moment.

He was still waiting for an answer, but Angron couldn't respond.His face shifted back and forth between calm and contorted, terrifyingly elusive.The blood and tears flowed down, leaving meandering marks on his face, and then merged into the ocean of blood, making him look terrifying as if he was soaked in the river of blood.

Khalil pursed his lips, preparing to touch Angron's heart with psychic power, intending to find more traces in it.

He had already notified the Second Company Commander of the Colosseum, and the possible presence of a Primarch in Nuceria had been reported to Robert Guilliman.At this moment, Lord Macragge is rushing here with people.

And he had to appease the man who was clearly tormented by that scalp implant before then.

He had seen Angron when he was mad.

However, just when he touched the chaotic mind with his spiritual energy, Angron let out a howl.His eyes turned pure scarlet in an instant, and Khalil clearly saw that the implants that were rooted under his scalp were gradually deepening.

The next second, Angron rushed towards him, his face was furious, but his eyes were bleeding.

　one more chapter

　　
　
(End of this chapter)