The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Talos said in a restrained voice.

"I am trying to end this battle so that we can all return to our insignificant lives, so that our souls can still cover our skin... I am not irritable by nature, and I allow everyone to speak and make suggestions, but Don’t regard my indulgence as weakness. I ordered and you wait to comply. I shall not test my patience again tonight. The weapon supervisor has just shown us this scene appropriately."

The body beside Talos was still convulsing and bleeding, and the Prophet handed his **** facial remains to the nearest servant.

"Clean these up."

The pilot stared at him with dull eyes.

"In what way, my lord?"

The question was silent.

"Eat it or whatever, I don't care."

The prophet swaggered back to his throne, passing through the dirt exposed by the corpse.

Nevertheless, he did not hold his aching head with his hands.

There was something in his mind threatening to explode and crush his skull.

"Gene seeds will kill you. Some people are destined to not survive after implantation."

An inexplicable voice sounded, and Talos looked up and looked at Ruben's chains.

"I killed you."

He declared to the pile of bones.

"grown ups?"

An officer in front asked cautiously, and Talos looked at him and realized that he must have been weird just now.

The pressure from the skull made him lose consciousness, caused a spasm in his body, and his face was always squinted like a stroke.

Squeezing down the nausea, Talos wiped the drool from his slightly opened mouth on the back of his hand.

Is this the end of our depravity?

The prophet tried to sort out his thoughts.

"I'm nothing."

Talos hissed.

"All departments, prepare to deploy cyclone torpedoes. When the scream begins to take effect and drive away the enemy's warships, they will immediately launch torpedoes into orbit."

"My lord, launching from this distance has a high probability of being intercepted."

"I know, execute."

As Talos was intensively designing their new breakthrough plan, the team of First Lie Claw had left the bridge and entered the lower deck.

They must deal with the remaining troubles.

"Usas died in battle."

Makuchen said to the darkness.

"I can't believe it, he couldn't kill him originally."

Cyrion giggled.

"Obviously not."

At this time, the lights around them went out as the overload circuit broke, and the ship groaned strangely under their boots.

The air in the cabin seemed to stay on them for a while, pushing and pulling their limbs.

"How does it feel?"

Valer asked, his backpack light box gleamed in the dim light, forming a beam of light in the dark.

The light was projected on the empty iron tunnel ahead,

Although their retina display was filtered, the other night lords still instinctively turned their heads to avoid the glare.

"The thing you don't use."

Cyrion said softly,

Valer did so right away-he was amused, and even then he didn't have a graceful smile.

"Please answer my question first."

The former red pirate pharmacist continued to ask.

"That voice, and the shaking of the ship, what caused it?"

Cyrion took the remnants of the first fierce claws through the tunnel and moved toward the depths of the spacecraft.

"This is the inertia adjustment of the tornado warhead. Talos is either very clever or very, very stupid."

"He is angry."

Markushen on the side added that his brothers were still wearing helmets and did not stop to look back.

"Talos will not be tolerant of anyone's death in First Fierce Claw, whether it's Shire or Uthas, even if he doesn't like them... I can tell from the way he walks. He is for this reason. Very hurt."

Cyrion led the remaining fierce claws around another corner and followed the spiral walkway to the next deck.

The crew spread out in front of them, like Mina avoiding the sudden light.

Only a few people, wearing robes like beggars, knelt at the feet of their masters and weeping, begging to tell them what happened.

Cyrion kicked one of them aside, and the first fierce paw passed the others.

"This ship is the size of a small city."

He said this to the brothers behind him.

"If Alien wants to play peekaboo with us all the time, we may never be able to dig them out."

"Have you heard what they found on Deck 30?"

Makushen asked suddenly.

But Cyrion just shook his head without answering.

"Don't sell it, tell me."

"Well, well, I said, a few nights before we arrived in the Storm Star Territory, the Eye of Weeping Blood reported something... They said that the wall over there is alive, that metal has blood vessels, pulses, and was cut. It will bleed when it breaks."

Cyrion turned his head to Valler, hiding a dissatisfied sneer behind the dazzling helmet.

"Before we stole it back, what did you dirty little fools do to this ship?"

The pharmacist stomped forward, his prosthetic hissing sound imitating the structure of human joints.

"I’ve seen Lord Midnight’s transport ship more corrupt than you think. I’m not a loyal person, Cyrion, but I’ve never said respectful words to those in power. Subspace will distort what it touches. Thing, I don’t deny this, but will you pretend that there is no contaminated deck in your precious Blood Alliance?"

"No."

"Is that so? Are you just wandering on the sparsely populated deck? Do you walk among the thousands of slaves on the ship? Is all this as pure and unchanging as you say? Even though you are in the eyes of the great Has it been for decades?"

Cyrion turned around and shook his head, but Valer wouldn't let him lie.

"I hate hypocrisy most, Cyrion of the First Claw."

"Quiet for a while, don't cry to me, I will never understand why Talos saved you, nor why he asked you to go with us when we left Hell Iris."

Valer said nothing, he was not a person who likes long talks, nor did he feel the need to make a final verdict in the argument, these things were irrelevant.

When they walked to the other deck below, Makuchen spoke, his voice accompanied by the sound of their chirping footsteps.

"Sirion, he stays with us because he is one of us."

More slaves were scattered in front of them-and all in rags.

"Yes~www.ltnovel.com~ since you said that."

Cyrion answered impatiently.

Seeing his attitude, Makushen let out a low sigh.

"Ha, do you think he is not one of us, just because the sun doesn't hurt his eyes?"

Cyrion shook his head.

"I don't want to argue, brother."

"I say so sincerely."

Markushen insisted:

"Talos also believes this. Becoming the Eighth Legion means that there is a kind of concentration, a kind of calm concentration... that none of the cousins ​​we kill has. You don't have to be born in a sunless world to become one of us. One, you only need to understand the fear, enjoy applying it, and taste the salty urine smell that radiates from the skin of mortals. Simply put, just think like us, and Valle does it."

Cyrion looked back at Valle, he tore the helmet's visor with lightning-like jagged tears.