Chapter 138: Is Simply Devilish
A warrior clad in tattered armor sat in a crumbling corner, a broken blade clutched in his hand. His face was etched with weariness, and a mocking smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he muttered self-deprecatingly.
"Is this our fate? Even if we escape to the webway, He will not let us go."
The Bloodlings became desperate repairmen, frantically running around the rift, trying to seal the gap in the warp with rituals and forbidden technology. They could feel their souls slipping away, and there was no time for them to experience the pain. Their techniques were no longer precise, and their movements revealed panic. Some even began to doubt whether the battle could ever end.
A Bloodling knelt on a patch of scorched earth, his eyes bloodshot and his lips trembling with exhaustion. He gripped the ceremonial knife tightly, pointed it at the rift in the sky, and let out a hoarse roar.
"You beast!"
"That bastard keeps using psionic energy! If I find out, I'll make sure he suffers forever!"
"Make him suffer terribly! Let him know what cruelty is!"
Blood and tears kept flowing from his eyes, and he seemed about to die.
Until suddenly, they discovered that all the cracks had been repaired, and the Bloodling stared blankly at the scene before him.
"We did it!"
"We've finally repaired all the cracks!"
"It's finally going to end!"
Many Bloodlings and Dark Eldar who witnessed this scene wept with joy, their faces twisted with relief and exhaustion.
Seeing their happy reunion, Francis calmly stood up and adjusted his equipment. He turned to face the others, his expression unreadable.
"All troops, attack!" As Francis's voice rang out, the previously calm Gamon suddenly erupted into a series of violent explosions.
Amidst dozens of dilapidated towers, the Soul Drinkers, disguised as Eldar warriors, suddenly launched an attack. They unleashed their weapons upon the Dark Eldar, swiftly overwhelming the unsuspecting guards and seizing control of the singularity console.
Hidden beneath the underground altar of resurrection, the Soul Drinkers detonated a psionic cannon. The resurrection device was torn to shreds, and the souls awaiting resurrection nearby were instantly sucked into the warp.
"Who did this? Who betrayed us?" A Dark Eldar noble roared, but no one answered.
The soldiers around him had complex expressions, their eyes revealing fear and confusion.
Not to mention them, even Perturabo and the others were completely bewildered.
"What's going on? Why are the Dark Eldar's singularity devices attacking themselves? And what's with all those explosions?" Perturabo's grape fell from his hand, forgotten on the deck.
Francis paused, then continued, his tone deliberate. "No, you guys didn't really just eat grapes here for a whole year, did you? This is how I spent the past year observing the locations of their dangerous weapons and resurrection devices, so that I could make plans for targeted infiltration and demolition."
"Could it be that you...?" Ferrus's eyes widened in realization.
Ferrus: "..."
Perturabo: "..."
Khan: "..."
"Don't just stand there! Charge!" Francis shouted joyfully, raising his fist.
Suddenly, countless dazzling lights erupted in the void around Gamon, and warships emerged from their concealment. Countless drop pods rained down from the belly of the fleet and rushed straight to various areas of the city.
The drop pods were engulfed in flames, tearing the sky above Gamon. Each capsule landed with a roar and a tremor, smashing the Dark Eldar's buildings and plazas to pieces.
In the massive impact, the hatch suddenly opened, and countless Astartes clad in power armor poured out.
"For the Emperor, destroy the xenos!"
"The webway belongs to humanity, the galaxy belongs to the Emperor!"
"..."
The Dark Eldar of Gamon were caught off guard, and their defenses proved extremely weak in the face of the enemy forces descending from the sky.
Several Soul Drinkers sprayed out countless deadly acids, which would completely corrode both the Dark Eldar and daemons. The mechanical minions unleashed by the Iron Hands surged toward the enemy like a tidal wave, their claws and flamers devouring hundreds of Dark Eldar warriors.
The Iron Warriors established an impenetrable fortress of fire between the buildings, and their heavy artillery leveled the entire block, annihilating countless Dark Eldar in the fierce barrage.
The White Scars, scarred and fierce, sped through the chaotic streets on their bikes, crushing everything in their path. Their maniacal laughter echoed through the air.
Slaanesh's daemons, brandishing their claws and whips, charged at the Imperial warriors, attempting to turn the battlefield into a bloody slaughterhouse.
However, faced with the orderly ranks and relentless heavy firepower, their charge faltered one by one.
The nobles of the Dark Eldar also immediately prepared for battle.
The shatterfield missiles streaked across the sky like condensed black holes, creating deafening sonic booms as they struck the armor of Imperial warships, twisting the metal into bizarre fragments.
The green glow of the necrotoxin missiles fell like meteors, exploding and releasing dense clouds of poisonous gas that corroded Astartes' bodies and souls, even dissolving armor under the toxin's attack.
The void mines floated eerily in the air, constantly changing position. As the Imperial warships approached, a thunderous explosion tore through the fleet's formation.
Void Raven bombers roamed the battlefield like ghosts of death, spewing destructive flames and highly toxic corrosive substances. Their sharp armor could even pierce enemy ship hulls during a dive, causing irreparable damage.
Upon witnessing this scene, Perturabo and Ferrus began crafting materials from the ruins into mechanical soldiers, heavy cannons, and even Knight Titans. They worked with furious intensity, their hands moving as though possessed.
"Let them see the power of technology!" Perturabo's voice boomed across the channel.
"Let them see the power of architecture!" Ferrus added, his tone matching.
The two of them worked like emotionless machines, as mechanized armies surged forth like a tide, the tracks of large vehicles crushing ruins and enemies, and mechanical Knights charging into battle with their blades raised high.
And the Khan, riding his iconic jet bike, transformed into a silver-white whirlwind.
The attacks from the Dark Eldar and daemons poured down like a torrential downpour, with las-fire, poison arrows, and psionic flames weaving a web of death.
However, the Khan's speed was dazzling. He skillfully maneuvered the jet bike, tracing elegant arcs through the flames and smoke, each turn precise and controlled.
He would sometimes duck to dodge, bursting out of the explosion's aftershocks; at other times, he would leap up, the exhaust from his bike leaving a fiery trail in the air.
He held a curved sword, its blade gleaming in the battlefield light, each swing claiming the lives of a group of enemies.
A group of Dark Eldar warriors tried to surround him, but the Khan scoffed, accelerated his descent, and cleaved them in two with a swing of his scimitar.
He then spun around abruptly, dodging a cunning void mine, and then threw a spear, piercing the daemon hidden in the shadows.
"Heh heh... Death is like the wind, always by my side..." His voice, brimming with nonchalance and arrogance, came through the communication channel, inspiring the White Scars.
Finally, when he came to Francis's location, he saw the cultists who believed in Slaanesh being locked in cages.
"Bah! We will never risk our lives for the Imperium!"
"Give up on that idea! Humanity belongs to Chaos!"
"The gods will bring us hope and joy!"
The cult's high priest stared intently at Francis, his eyes burning with defiance. He stepped forward, his chains rattling.
"Alright! I'm waiting for you. Send them all to the battlefield, to the most devastating places." Francis stroked his chin, seemingly lost in thought, his expression cold.
"As long as we live, we will definitely seek revenge on you! Never underestimate a young person's potential!"
"..."
Snap snap snap...
The Imperium's drop pods rained down, and countless cultists poured out. They wore tattered robes, their faces contorted, their eyes burning with madness and fear.
"Aaaaaah! They underestimated us so much!"
"Let them know the power of the gods!"
"Blood sacrifice for the Prince, ascension through suffering!"
The high priest roared madly, his voice cracking with fervor.
The cultists chanted blasphemous incantations, their voices echoing across the battlefield.
Just as the firepower was about to strike them, the surrounding air began to distort, and purplish-black psionic ripples spread out.
Just then, an invisible gaze descended, watching over these tiny yet fanatical sacrificers.
He bestowed His grace!
All the attacks were blocked, and the cultists roared with excitement at the sight.
"God! God!"
"We did it! The gods bless us!"
"Hahaha... Ascension!"
They kept contorting their bodies, trying to continue pleasing their patron, but they didn't seem to have much talent for it.
The body begins to undergo involuntary, abnormal changes.
"Aaaaaah! What's wrong with my body?"
"Is this the power bestowed by the gods? Enough! Enough! Stop it!"
"Waaaaahh..."
Their bodies began to swell and tear unnaturally, like hot-air balloons being inflated, their flesh turning into a viscous psionic liquid.
Bang bang bang!
Their bodies exploded, leaving only Chaos spawn on the ground.
Each spawn exudes a chilling aura, as if it harbors endless malice from the warp. It seems this is just one of His entertainment projects!
At the same time, within several kilometers of these spawn, countless Dark Eldar suddenly stopped what they were doing, their faces filling with terror. They froze in place, their weapons falling from limp hands.
"It's Him! It's Him who caught up with us!"
"Run! Run now!"
"Aaaaaah! No!"
Their bodies withered rapidly, like candle flames being extinguished, and their souls were torn apart by an invisible force, emitting mournful howls, as if some irresistible force was devouring the very essence of their lives.
Upon seeing this, the Bloodlings and the elite noble guards instantly gave up struggling. They dropped to their knees, their defiance crumbling.
"How so!"
"Who brought Him here? They're trying to exterminate us!"
"You beast! Ahhh! Don't take me!"
"I can't take it anymore!"
Their screams mingled with the clamor of battle as He greedily seized their souls, leaving their bodies to fall to the ground and wither into dry shells.
At this moment, all technological means have lost their intended use!
Those Dark Eldar who were once hunters have now become sacrifices, their rising souls being dragged into the warp.
The Imperial warriors who witnessed this scene all felt a chill run down their spines. They exchanged looks of grim understanding.
They looked back at the Abyss Roar where Francis stood, their eyes filled with respect and a hint of fear.
[End of Chapter]
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