bookbashuk Page 339
Page 339
The broken engine on Shadow's left hand emitted a chilling shriek, and a strangely undulating, jet-black spherical lightning bolt twisted and moved through space, piercing towards the armored company in front of Hades. From the ominous black light that appeared to the shriek that exploded, it seemed to take only a moment. A violent scream rang out, and within the Iron Warriors' company, space was forcibly torn open, and an eerie light shone from the other end.
Like a small vortex existing in this space, the heavy armor that Peturabo was once so proud of was easily torn apart like paper, the steel was twisted into fragments and then sucked into the vortex.
Hades silently watched the crack that suddenly appeared in the Iron Warriors fleet. Now the seemingly perfect array of Iron Warriors had been physically torn apart, and the vortex was expanding, struggling to take away more lives.
This is like an enlarged version of the vortex bomb that Mortalian once used. The principle is to tear a hole in the warp and then let the distorted and mixed space shred everything around it.
In an instant, the vortex shrieked, and the once immovable armor seemed to be in chaos for a moment, as if it hadn't reacted yet. But Hades wouldn't give them a chance. At the moment the space was torn apart, the knights under the Titan's feet also hit their enemies with the fire of the thermal cannons.
Hades thought, "Just a little bit more."
"emission."
Like witchcraft, two more vortexes formed as Hades spoke, easily dragging all the creatures they encountered into the abyss.
At this moment, the heavy artillery fire falling behind Hades's charging column seemed like a joke. Hades didn't even need to turn around to know that the continent behind them had already been blasted down by two or three meters of sand.
Buzzing—Boom!
The first berserk Ghost Rider had already charged into the enemy ranks, its Reaper Chainsword roaring as it tore through metal, its adamantite armor crashing directly into the Predator Tank. It brutally chose melee combat, swinging its chainsword wildly.
The roar of chainsaws was the next horn, and the knights charged into the steel ranks one after another, their tall strides disrupting the opposing ranks. At the same time, the dark gray knights also rushed out from their own layered battle lines, wanting to fire cannons, but Hades's ghost knights had already rushed to the front of the enemy, their chainsaw swords slashing straight at the cockpit!
The next moment, the massive Titan also entered the battle line. Hades lowered his eyes, and an invisible ripple seemed to suddenly spread around the psionic Titan. Then, a violent pulse wave rippled out, and the small armor inside the Titan was shattered into scrap metal.
As violent pulse waves spread in all directions, darkness began to descend. Violent pale green lightning shone from around each knight and Titan. Fanatical praises rang out in the channel. Silvery tears fell onto the sand, spreading slowly and silently over the countless metallic corpses, climbing up the unfeeling dark gray steel.
Hades frowned deeply.
"keep away."
A moment of darkness, and the next, Hades frowned as he watched those struggling to attack the charging ranks fall into a deathly silence.
No—they have no souls?
Hades considered this, but the Titan he controlled did not hesitate for a moment, its divine machine charging straight towards the black stone obelisk within the steel ranks—
Peturabo slammed his fist on the command platform, and Vashtor, standing beside him, glanced at him slowly.
On the wasteland, the second black stone obelisk was illuminated by black lightning.
Great
Chapter 405 Peturabo, do you want to get beaten up?
"What did you see?"
The heavy black helmet stood on the loose earth, the explosive gun hung down, and little Herrera remained silent.
She tightened her grip on the bomb gun.
"The enemy's corpse, Hades."
Hades clapped his hands, crouching down, his dark eyes staring expressionlessly at the gray-armored corpse lying on the ground.
"They...have no soul."
Hades spoke softly, finally understanding where the problem lay and why this strange feeling had lingered over him throughout the battle—now he knew.
Fighting the Iron Warriors reminded Hades of his past battles against the Necromancers, giving him a vague sense of familiarity.
What exactly did they go through? What exactly did the Iron Warriors go through? As the first known corrupt legion?
Hades reached out and drew the sword from the corpse's waist, trying to find more clues. But as Hades moved, the belt around the corpse's waist moved, and a hidden pouch fell out.
Hades paused for a moment, then reached out and pushed aside the small bag.
A photograph, a group photo of three young men at the foot of an imperial statue, half-soaked in blood. Turned over, the back bears their names and a sentence.
"For the Empire! For the Iron Warriors!"
Hades glanced indifferently at the corpse, recognizing it as the one on the left in the group photo.
A faint green arc of light appeared, Hades stood up, and the flame burned out between his fingers.
"Prepare for an attack from the southeast."
Hades said clearly that he watched little Herrera salute, then jogged away.
The cold mask covered Hades' face, devoid of any warmth. Even as the data from the entire battlefield was being analyzed in his mind, Hades still spent some time thinking about this problem.
Finally, standing amidst the pile of corpses, Hades reached his conclusion.
Someone has to pay the price for the blood of these former imperial warriors.
Whoever did it should be sentenced to death.
Hades gazed into the distance, the images transmitted from the warships were clear: iron shovels plowed through the yellow earth, and a faint rumble drifted in the wind—
The big fish is here.
Hades was unaware of who had given Peturabo the courage.
He stood in the wind, the stench of psychic magic wafting past his nose.
Then darkness descended.
------
Ingels chuckled and glanced at Vashtor with its toad-like round eyes. The Lord of the Hearth looked humiliated.
“They are not pleased with you, you worm of iron and bronze.”
The Great Demon spoke with delight, as if to show the four gods' affection for it. It spread its tiny, broken wings and glanced back at "Luojia," who was directing the Word Bearers to build the altar.
"Go for it, Uriah."
Ingelser said sweetly that its fate was tied to that of Luojia, regardless of which branch of fate it followed.
Then it turned its head and continued its aggressive tone.
"Have you already failed? Have they decided on him?"
Sparks burst from Vashtor's mouth as it pressed its craftsman's hammer against the toad's chin.
Given that our cooperation needs to continue, you'd better be polite.
The scorching heat was roasting Ingelser, who snorted and oozing slime.
“I’ve already sensed the presence of the First One. You hate it, don’t you?”
The Great Demon laughed.
It was just a subordinate.
Vashtor hissed.
+And I am the collaborator, ma'am, are you aware of that?
Ingelser smiled and moved the scorching hot craftsman's hammer aside with its fingers.
"Whatever you want,"
it says,
"You couldn't even persuade the Rust Calamity, do you think he'll back down? Or does he know something? He's your only card, isn't he? I know, the contract, the contract—? But now it looks like he's going to be kicked out."
The tightly wound iron wires climbed up, and the Lord of the Hearth stared at Ingelther; behind the flickering flames seemed to be an endless abyss of hell.
"No—" Vashtor said, emphasizing each word. "Yes, that's right. He's not that person. He wasn't too deeply influenced by the despisers."
If Chaos wanted things to be more secure, it wouldn't be Peturabo.
Vashtor realized that even though the fate of the God-forsaken was in harmony with machinery and steel, darkness had not yet touched the man of steel.
Steel… Vashtor thought with malice, the blasphemous being, it never imagined that the Forsaken of God would be connected to machinery, did that false emperor know what he was doing?
Om Messiah, unwilling to bear this crown himself, bestows it upon others in such a blasphemous way?! This is not the best time for the Lord of the Hearthfire to embark on the path of hatred, but if it does not act soon... it can feel the waning authority in the river of the future!
But... ignoring the words of that four-god lackey slave, Vashtor thought, feeling a gradually rising power coming from the not-too-distant future—this was part of the contract.
It signifies their victory, it signifies the victory of Vashtor.
A gentle, kind voice sounded from behind the two hideous monsters. Luo Jia stared at them with her violet eyes.
【alright. 】
The believer lifted up the Enlightened One, turning to let the two see the altar. Blood fell from the black stone obelisk in the center of the altar, and corpses piled up to form an upside-down sculpture of a false emperor, which was tied to the black obelisk. Swords made of human bones pointed directly at the location of the Forsaken One.
"I love you, darling."
Ingelser said in a high-pitched voice,
"You always do a great job... It's a pity... I wish you were really him."
This is not important.
Uriah said that he was the last believer on Terra, and as the flames raged, he threw himself into the fire under the watchful eye of the false god, completing his final sacrifice.
Piety is a fundamental aspect of character.
Uriah said, and as he spoke, his new body twitched.
Vashtor stared grimly at Luojia. The Lord of the Hearthfire pondered, "It can't be Perturabo…" it thought, "There's no connection… unless… unless they want to…"
The Lord of the Hearth Fire fell silent.
The next moment, with the Word Bearers' sacrifice and the demonic armies of the other four gods, Vashtor also began to summon its army.
--------
Come on... come on...
Peturabo thought to himself that this was not a rational move, but he had done far too many crazy things so far.
He stared intently at the dark corner of the map, shrouded in darkness, unknowable, unseen, and out of control. This familiar feeling made his eyelids tremble nervously.
Undetectable.
Perturabo thought of it, but this tiny subconscious thought was quickly submerged in tens of thousands of thoughts. The army of steel warriors continued to advance. He felt the losses on the front lines. He had lost many men and a lot of armor, but the other side was also bleeding.
If Perturabo wished, he could overwhelm Hades with massive resources before Phenus arrived—but this would render him completely powerless against the Lord of Medusa.
No...no, the Lord of Medusa is not Perturabo's primary target, although the Lord of Steel would also not tolerate being defeated by Phenus.
Perturabo chuckled inwardly, as if the very thought of war with Fernus made him laugh. His thoughts returned to the front lines, and he stared at the two monsters.
He stared at them, perfect yet flawed creations. In a daze, Peturabo recalled the sculpture he had smashed in Olympia, and the alien creations he had been unable to study and learn from for countless days and nights.
He gave a twisted laugh; he would smash them too.
However... he needed some leverage, and he was promised that.
Amidst the turbulence, the steel vehicle tormentor is about to arrive at the front lines.
Peturabo stared into the deepest part of the darkness, as if he could see the figure there.
The Lord of Steel's lips moved.
------
Hades,
Provocative words rang out.
In the darkness, beneath the white hair, a crimson gaze locked on the target in an instant. The ion burst gun on top of the divine machine aimed instantly, and the next moment, scorching plasma shot directly into the enemy formation.
Unsurprisingly, after a moment of spatial distortion, the intense plasma disappeared. Hades was unsure whether it was sorcery, a void shield, or both.
But he didn't need to know that clearly. The huge machine beneath him roared, and the magnetic soles of his black helmet boots kept Hades as still as a mountain. Without the slightest hesitation, they began their charge.
A mountain of tanks surged toward him, their menacing gun barrels flashing with fire, but before the Divine Titan, they were like infants besieging an adult, utterly vulnerable.
With each step, pulses and storms alternated as the war machine unleashed bursts of energy from the Doom-class psionic titan, tearing a path of iron and blood through the enemy ranks with massive shockwaves. Knights followed closely behind, using the opening created by the titan to engage the steel warriors from the side.
In the darkness, Hades took a deep breath.
"Petulabo—come out!!!"
Hades roared,
"Come out! Traitor!!!"
The gale rushed into Hades' mouth, but the scorching roar shattered the wind, and the sound of a sweeping greatsword echoed across the land.
The noisy radio waves started, the speaker system activated, and Hades heard that low laugh.