"It's here again! Let's retreat first!"
Hearing this laughter, the hair on the back of Bahram's neck stood up. He quickly urged Sablin and Li Lin to speed up, while he stood behind with a gun.
They quickly crossed the corpse-strewn streets and entered the fortified outpost.
The door of the outpost was open, and Bahram was the last to walk in. He immediately closed the door with his backhand.
But the moment he closed it, he realized something was not right.
What a strong smell of blood!
"Sablin——"
He turned his head and saw Sablin taking off his helmet, looking around with his dark eyes, and raising his fingers in front of his lips.
"Shh, look."
Bahram looked up and saw blood everywhere, staining the oxidized steel crimson.
The higher you go, the more blood there becomes, eventually becoming everywhere.
The blood was unsettling, but not nearly as horrific as the source of the blood.
On a sturdy platform at the top of the outpost, Bahram was furious at the atrocities that occurred.
The three people were placed around the central column of the bloody stage. Bahram only had a brief glimpse, but it was enough to imprint the image in his soul forever.
The husband, wife and a newly grown daughter were brutally tortured and killed. He also noticed a small but horrifying detail: the man's eyelids were cut off, and his eyes were still in the sockets. Then it dawned on him that he must be the father, and he was forced to watch the other two people die.
Sabourin was unaffected by the scene and surveyed the scene with serious curiosity.
"This is crazy."
"No sane person would do something like this."
Bahram gritted his teeth and gasped:
"This is why the traitors must be driven out and killed! They have long become inhumane monsters!"
"here!"
Suddenly, Li Lin pointed at a wall, and the other two people raised their heads at the same time.
I saw a "body" hanging there.
He had been a missionary, judging by the few clothes she had left: a white robe with twine and a reliquary slung over one shoulder, embroidered with golden scriptures.
The reason why such a person comes to a barbaric planet is basically to spread the light of the Emperor. In a sense, he is undoubtedly a brave and selfless person.
But his experience seemed unfair.
The robe was torn, and the twine creaked around his neck as he twisted against the wall.
A wooden crate lay shattered at his feet, with some charred fragments inside—perhaps some important scripture, but it had been ground to dust.
"The Emperor protects us..."
Bahram's voice deepened. It pained him to see such a man martyred.
But the priest didn't die here - that much was clear.
Of course, signs of murder were everywhere - blood was splattered on the walls and ceiling.
This is more like a crazy scene than an exhibition, more like a calling card: concise, orderly, neatly arranged.
The pastor's hand was missing, his eyes were covered, and one foot was hanging on a piece of cartilage. It was obvious that the amputation was intentionally interrupted, and his internal organs had overflowed and rested on the looming wound that penetrated the abdomen.
All over him, along every part of his worm-like pale body, were drawn lazy lines: flowing ripples and scarlet lightning.
At first, Bahram mistook the lines for red ink, scrawled on the skin.
But then he realized he was wrong.
Each line was an incision, done so delicately and so perfectly that not a drop of blood seeped out.
This is not crazy, this is art.
The artist doesn't shy away from signing his works.
Above the corpse, there was a line of words written in blood, which caught his eye.
But the writing was not High Gothic, and Bahram could not recognize it.
Sablin stood behind him with a strange expression, while Li Lin on the side didn't think much and said directly:
"I think I saw this kind of writing at the company commander's place——"
"Shut up!"
Sabourin turned his head and glared at the other party. Then Li Lin shrank his neck, realizing that he had said something outrageous.
Only then did Bahram remember that he had indeed seen this kind of writing in Talos. The commander of the 11th Company would occasionally stay alone in the art gallery to carve alone when no one was around, and he The carvings were all of unfamiliar faces. After each carving, he would carve a line of text on them and then break them into pieces.
Thinking about this, Bahram looked at Sabrin. He felt that this person who was most respected by Talos should have learned a lot from him.
Including this text?
Noticing Bahram's gaze, Sablin sighed helplessly, and then cleared his throat.
"it says--"
Sabourin turned to the words, and in his eyes they twisted with malice.
In fact, the moment he saw these words, he was also very shocked, and he immediately came to some familiar concept - he was not stupid. After observing many signs on Talos for many years, he came to a very simple conclusion.
Talos is definitely not a member of the Astral Knights, and may not even have been a warrior of the Empire in the past——
Thinking about this, he read the words out loud, each word clear and powerful.
"Let the puppet emperor's lackey die like this——"
He could feel Bahram staring at him, looking anxious.
"Hail, Lord of the Night."
At this moment, a huge darkness fell from the sky——
"careful!!"
Bahram was the first to react, lunging to his left.
He felt, rather than heard, the hiss of claws cutting through the air, right where he had been.
It's so silent that it can kill with one strike.
He turned over and drew out his sword as quickly as possible to block the next attack. The blade screamed in the darkness and emitted dim sparks.
But all he could see was a shadow.
Then, Bahram twisted his hips and jammed his sword into the crackling claw blade, but this exposed his ribs. Then the opponent's second arm stretched out like a poisonous snake, and the tip of his right claw penetrated The gap between Bahram's armpit and shoulder armor was about ten centimeters deep.
"ah--"
Pain spread from his shoulder. Bahram did not hesitate, but rolled decisively, spilling blood on the ground.
At this moment, a burst of bright light suddenly erupted, illuminating the dark outpost.
Bahram turned his head and saw Sabourin throwing a flare on the high platform, which also illuminated the killer's figure.
Prince of Thorns Amon Kal stood on the wide platform, peeling off unprocessed human skin and sewing it on the tattered robe. Blood, some dried brown, some still bright red, flowed on the marble-smooth metal shell - —It was a set of Mark IV power armor with an ancient design, painted in midnight blue and inlaid with bronze on the edges. The jagged spear points stood on the shoulder armor, metal gloves and breastplate, and the Eighth Legion's iconic gaze The winged skull surrounds the Prince of Thorns' own coat of arms, a black poisonous rose and evil poisonous thorns.
The opponent was not wearing a helmet, revealing a flawless face, with graceful lines like a statue, but his posture was like that of an evil, rickety wizard.
More importantly, he has the same jet-black wings as Sablin and Li Lin, and his skin is as pale as a corpse.
