The Emperor’s Angel of Death

Khasatus, an important agricultural world in the Galaxy of Sorrows.

But unlike the highly specialized agricultural world dominated by the Mechanicus, Kasatus also has the functions of a garden world. It maintains a large number of idyllic small agricultural lands and noble manors, and the above is only simple to use. On the one hand, the self-cultivating farmers with mechanical farming are used for some nobles in the hive city to "experience" life, and on the other hand, they are used as retirement places for some retired military officers who do not want to return to live in the hive city.

Therefore, although Kasatus has a city, it is not a three-dimensional city like the hive capital, but a flat city closer to the classical style. The city is not only clean and tidy, but also has very complete public services and transportation, and the buildings are mostly ancient. The brick buildings and all kinds of castle towers are the main ones, the commercial street is dotted with a lot of neon lights, and the suburbs of the city are a large area of ​​lush forests dotted with farmland, windmills and grasslands.

To be fortunate enough to be born in such a world has surpassed 99% of the imperial people in a sense.

But on this day, the tranquility of this world was broken.

The dreadful midnight has come!

A strange warship had suddenly appeared near Khasatus, and instead of hopping through the Warp, which would have been spotted by the Imperial Navy's monitoring posts, it had in fact disguised itself with a shadowy sorcery.

Like a cunning predator, it evaded every possible spot for a naval patrol, cutting through the curtain like a serrated knife.

The cruiser's hull was blue, but so dark that it was almost black, with no trace of decoration or allegiance, save for a pale skull streaked with blood-colored lightning bolts.

In a way, it's almost a physical shadow, like its crew.

Alvarez looked at the world waiting to be harvested not far away from the observation window. The flickering holographic report covered his dim facial features in the network of light and shadow, while his eyes were unchanging black spheres. He stared intently, while assessing the prospects of this harvest in his heart.

The harvest of the previous world filled their decks, and those slaves were harvests that they might not have gained after wandering in other places for several years, but here it is easy.

The Maelstrom is a good place, but it's a pity that weak people like the Red Pirates took it.

"Master, the Dark Night Ritual is ready."

The words hissed in dissonant echoes, and Alvarez frowned, turning to something hovering beside the bridge commander's throne, a Chaos Sorcerer, the one who made the voice.

A huge shadow sat on the throne, and no one could see what was inside, but the fear and cruelty it brought enveloped everyone on the bridge, including those squatting on the high place and occasionally licking their claws as if A mutated raptor that has completely degenerated into a beast.

Alvarez is a new blood, and currently the only "normal" member of the warband, so he is responsible for most of the daily work, organization and logistics, and his master and brothers are only addicted to killing.

Before long, he too will be like them.

Looking around, this is not so much a bridge as it is a slaughterhouse. Hundreds of skinned corpses were hooked through the shoulders and hung from the ceiling with chains. They were all women because their eyelids were cut off. It is worth the bloodshot pale eyeballs protruding outwards, each of them is still alive, intermittent painful moans form a strange noise, and parts of their chests have been violently amputated.

His master was once attacked by the nuns of the pseudo-emperor, and was almost exiled back to the warp. From then on, the monster hated women especially.

The excised parts of those women are placed on the tray next to its throne, like **** desserts, drawn into the invisible big mouth by the long tongue protruding from the shadows from time to time, and laugh happily while chewing Voice.

Alvarez only started serving a century ago, and he's always seen it as an outsider, but it still makes him sick and reminds him of things from before he became the Night Lords... .

He likes to read some classics and stories left by the old Legion. He is deeply attracted by the heroes described in the desperate expedition. He taught them what fear is. The Council of Nightbats...

Although they could not be called united at that time, they had at least one goal in their lives, instead of just floating randomly in the vast galaxy like a mass of debris like now.

The red pirates are weak, but at least they know what they're doing.

Alvarez couldn't imagine a way out other than becoming a Raptor who had fallen into warp madness like his brother.

Though his master claims the legacy of the Eighth Legion, its demeanor tells all that it has long been a member of the Warp, its form completely obscured by dark shadows, and it lacks anything that could be recognized as a human being. .

For example, the soul...

"Those pathetic Deathwatch think it's a trap."

A mocking voice sounded from the shadows.

"But it will be their own trap."

Alvarez's attention had returned to the holographic screen, and after a while, the wizard beside his master drifted away, and then shadows spread across the bridge.

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"Let the hunt begin!"

Soon, shadows from the Unseen Realm began to spread across the skies of Khasatus, with shaman rituals and voluminous blood being sacrificed into the Warp.

The astropaths screamed and fainted, muttering nonsense about claws and blood, and the communication of the planet was cut off. No one knew what happened, but the poor guards on the planet were quickly mobilized and concentrated on the city .

Midnight falls when the stars are completely obscured.

Alvarez, now off the bridge and into an assault bay with his armored brother, could feel the ship's uneasiness, reading its mood in every nuance of flight: The erratic pulse of the thrusters, the lethargy of the stabilizers, even the flickering of the lights...

The ancient machine spirit was restless, as they were every time they hunted, it was a wary beast ~www.readwn.com~ but Alvarez had faith in it.

Yes, Alvarez is not just a night lord, he is also a technical sergeant, as the only technical sergeant in this warband, after his predecessor was killed in a maintenance accident, he took over as an apprentice duty.

But Alvarez is well aware that his mentor's death wasn't accidental, it was murder by a master who grew distrustful of his mentor.

It was a fickle creature, and when it thought something might threaten it, killing would follow.

Alvarez took over this position, which means that he is not too far away from death, at least he can no longer stay on the ship, and must follow the rest of the warband to fight on the ground.

In the dim assault cabin, Alvarez's eyes were hidden under the helmet, and the mechanical arm on the power pack was gently swinging back and forth, making final adjustments. The warband had three Thunderhawks, but one of them was temporarily out of order due to improper use. Use, the remaining two can't carry everyone, so the higher status is in the Thunderhawk, and the lower status is in the assault pod.

It was one of the warband's rare, and fair, moments.