The Emperor’s Angel of Death

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To be honest, in the environment of human society, Karen is not so comfortable, after all, even an orc does not like to live in hiding, although they have never doubted the tightly wrapped guy beside them. It's an Oak.

But one thing Karen thinks about humans is that they don't get beat up for no reason -- most of the time.

More importantly, Rozim is a very reliable boss in his opinion, and there is no need to worry about following him up the mountain of swords and down the sea of ​​fire.

So this operation will look as usual to him, and Rozim will use his wits to defeat the oddballs and wipe them out with ease.

It was indeed the case that after they had overcome many obstacles, they found a wizarding party in a hall full of blood.

Karen hates Psionic Boys very much, and naturally he also hates Psionic Shrimp.

After a brief and intense exchange of fire, most of the members of the secret order were lying on the ground, and several panicked survivors tried to escape along the corridor, but could no longer resist, and were shot down one by one from behind.

"It went well. After playing for so long, the big guy is also hungry."

Rozim twitched his nose oddly as he sheathed his meat chopper, as he often does.

For a chef, even if he is already in the heat of the battle, when he needs a little energy, he has to let go of what he is doing.

"Fire! Get something to eat!"

"Ah, boss, this—"

Hank Evans looked around awkwardly.

Blood, bones, demon totems, and corpses all over the floor didn't look like a good picnic place.

"Would you like to change places?"

"It's the same everywhere, it's clean enough, but there's no moving stuff—"

Before Rozim could finish speaking, the body of a wizard more than ten meters away from him suddenly bounced on the ground, and a pink tentacle burst out from his chest.

The cook turned his head and shot, turning the body into ashes along with the tentacles.

"Okay, it's gone now."

Hank Evans rubbed his head helplessly, took out the portable self-heating stove, and then the pots and pans.

And Sinlata, who was still wearing sunglasses, was sitting on a rock, with his arms folded over his chest, and the black knife in his arms, not knowing what he was thinking.

After eliminating this group of wizards, he was not in a hurry.

Rozim took out a pile of semi-finished ingredients and started cooking his plate-style simmering, smacking his lips and muttering from time to time.

"It would be nice if there was a little wine, misstep, misstep..."

Karen was stunned for a moment. He remembered that he had noticed a kitchen when he rushed through the servants' quarters earlier, and was sure that he could find it back there. That place might--

As soon as Rozim buried his head and began to season it, he slipped away quietly to find it.

The messy layout of this underground space was a bit confusing, but he easily found what he was exploring, just follow the scars from the battle, the potholes the laser made on the walls, the many charred tapestries Or the occasional scattered intricate inlaid tabletop that marks the way back to the entrance.

Glassware had been placed on most of the tables, but few remained intact, especially around where the frag grenades exploded, scorch marks on the carpets and holes in the walls and furniture.

It didn't take long for the lavish furnishings to give way to the unadorned, unadorned surroundings of the servants' quarters, though Karen wasn't expecting to meet the servants—most of them ran away screaming as soon as the four showed up, and those who Guys who didn't get knocked over right away stayed with their complicit masters and soon burped too.

A seasoned mechanic, Keren was of course alert, ready to raise his boomerang.

The cultists who survived are almost certain to have run away, but maybe some will hide, hoping to get away once the noise subsides.

Thinking like this, he finally saw the target. Behind a half-open door, neatly arranged pots and pans were shining brightly.

Just as he was about to go in, he hesitated and pricked up his ears.

There was someone talking, and the cadence of the voice was undoubtedly the rhythm of the chant.

"You are a gram, a gram, a gram, a gram..."

Karen didn't know what that meant, but it didn't have to be, it sounded like something from the Warp, which wasn't a good sign and might even cause them trouble.

He realizes he'd better stop it now, and he needs to use that kitchen, it's too bad it's occupied by the enemy right now.

Karen had his big gun ready and rushed behind the door, his eyes flicking from side to side in search of his target.

He guessed right, someone was holding a warp ritual: a tall, dark-skinned man dressed in an expensive-looking robe and a lot of jewelry, waving his arms and squirting his lips. Out a gibberish.

"...ah↑ah↓ah↓ah↓ah↓ah↑ah↓ah↓!"

The loud, noisy man's eyes seemed to gleam like a beast, and when he looked up to see the unexpected intruder, his mouth twisted into something grotesque in disgust, as if he had just found the soles of his shoes dirty.

Karen's fingers pressed against the trigger of the big gun, but before he could pull it, the air between them burst, and it sounded—

Like the biggest fart in the galaxy.

And it smells about the same.

In the blink of an eye, something full of eyes, mouth and teeth stepped through the crack of reality, whipped half a dozen whip-like tentacles at him, and made a weird cry—

"Whoosh!"

"Get rid of this scum."

The disdain in the wizard's words drips down like the proto-substance from a newly manifested warp creature.

"Do!"

Karen also growled and pulled the trigger on the gun.

The demon staggered back, howling in pain, and a terrifying current of heat smashed it in half by the waist.

Karen has been fighting for so many years~www.readwn.com~ Compared to the real troublesome things he has encountered, it is far from the real trouble he has seen when he followed the army of bonebreakers through the warp. He was red and had wings, a big man with a height of tens of meters, and a bizarre thing with two heads and feathers all over his body.

According to his experience, the so-called warp demons are not as difficult as Rozim said.

“Oyster Mo Oyster~~”

After firing a few more shots, with a bang, the warp demon suddenly disappeared and was driven back to the weird realm torn apart by the psionicists.

Karen turned and glanced quickly at the rest of the kitchen.

The psionicist was still standing in front of the stove, with a look of astonishment on his face, chanting another string of mysterious syllables.

"Damn, let me see what's in your brain! Become my puppet!"

A turquoise witch fire rose from his raised fist, and Karen felt something hit his skull lightly, so he took a step forward.

And the witch fire flickered, like a candle in the wind, and went out.

"Damn it! You tm is actually a green skin!!! How can there be a green skin here ah ah ah ah ah ah!"

"Go to hell!"

Karen fired at the man, wiping the man's stunned expression with one shot.

Then he stepped over the cramped body, slung the weapon behind his back, opened a cabinet with his free hands, and after rummaging for a while, found a black glass bottle and shook it.

The bottle rattled.

Then he pulled out the stopper and smelled it. It was indeed wine.

Karen thought he was lucky, so he returned with the bottle.

"Where have you been?"

Rozim was pouring the food on the plate, and it was delicious, albeit messed up by the smell of blood around him.

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