Chapter 540: Gap, respective plans
"Holy... In the name of the Holy Pantheon! I declare the meeting to be over!"
In the orbit of the agricultural world of Farr, a meeting had just ended in the pale wraithbone ship.
Alstin, who shut up in time, became more and more distraught in the eyes of the warrior who supervised him in the time after the accident.
No, it's not like being haunted. Judging from his long experience in supervising the prophets, it's more like a terrible pollution.
However, any pollution has extremely significant characteristics in the eyes of the warriors of the Uthwe tribe.
No matter it is the chaotic aura on the body that is hidden but can still be recognized with intention;
It is still the personality under the desire that becomes more and more out of control as the power of pollution erodes.
These are the only methods he has summarized in his past supervision of those who have fallen, and who rely on them to identify them.
But, none of these.
Ever since the accident, it can be said that he has been following Alstin closely.
But this trainee prophet, who was full of doubts in his eyes, not only did not have those signs of chaos and corruption.
On the contrary, after he secretly observed it from a psychic perspective, he got the illusion that "this guy's psychic energy is purer and more stable"!
Absolutely an illusion!
The tribe warrior thought secretly, but he couldn't deny the coldness lingering on Alstin.
It was that coldness that made him feel the clarity of the subspace with just a touch of spiritual energy.
And it was this coldness that made him instinctively feel a kind of... fear when observing Alstin?
On the ground in Farr, different forces are still closely entangled, and a little change in the Eldar clan is even more subtle from a global perspective.
Deep in the hive city of Zerita, on the eleventh floor of the Archives, Sulla and his comrades are still fighting.
Dirty blood and corpses lay in patches on the road they walked, and before they knew it, there were thousands of them.
"Is it it?" Sura asked the battle sister behind him.
After entering the eleventh floor of the archives, they finally walked to the center of the building against the tide of corpses.
The number of enemies is still endless, and the team's combat mode has also changed.
The thick gunshots no longer continued, for the Astartes warriors had only two bases of ammunition left;
The Battle Sisters took over this part of the function and began to attack long-range targets behind the human wall.
"It should be." Mirius left Padilla and walked to the servo placed in the mechanical altar.
She took out the universal data collection skull from her waist and pressed it down after a simple operation.
Click, click, click!
Amidst four dense metal collisions, the claw-like port on the back of the skull was inserted deeply into the servo.
Then, there is no more...
"Isn't this thing broken?" Sura stood fighting on the left side of the team and turned around to ask after clearing the corpse tide in front of him.
"Silence!" Miris looked at the other party angrily, fearing that his casual words would become reality.
"Praise the God of All Opportunities!" Miris chanted without sincerity.
I don’t know if it’s the generosity of the God of All Machines or the emperor’s blessing.
In short, after a few long seconds of waiting, this ancient machine finally started a worrying gear rotation under the flickering lights in the skull's eye sockets.
"Emperor's blessing!" Miris prayed in a low voice, and in a blink of an eye, he put aside his admiration for the God of All Opportunities.
And as if in response to her "temporary faith" full of pragmatism, the altar fell into a long self-examination process after a slow start...
The team without a mechanical priest is like this. They can only perform the simplest operations and pray that these ancient machines will not malfunction.
But the efficiency of this servo was still far beyond their expectations.
The machinery on the altar was working slowly, and the unhurried tapping of gears and machine keys made everyone who had been waiting for a long time anxious.
As we all know, no matter what religious belief, something like an altar must be placed in an open position that is not conducive to defense.
For this team, this geographical environment is the battlefield they least want to choose.
The waves of corpses seemed to have no end, and they quickly piled up a wall of corpses at the feet of the Astartes warriors;
Snipers and groups of rebel iron guards appeared from time to time in the distance, which not only tested the concentration of the battle sisters, but also consumed their few ammunition.
Click!
The machinery on the altar finally stopped working, and Mirius walked up to it first.
She picked up the parchment scroll spit out from the gate and carefully rolled it up, without even having time to read it carefully.
Sura in the distance also saw this. The moment Miris put away the scroll, he used the communication channel to notify his comrades on the other side of the altar:
"Okay! Let's go!"
"Copy that!" The two Astartes warriors swung their swords vigorously, cleared the tide of corpses in front of them, and then began to retreat slowly.
The battle nuns two steps behind them, while holding guns on guard, began to tacitly occupy the fire support position as the team marched.
"Where to go next?" Sulla asked Miris as he walked, and the latter responded to Sulla after a brief communication with Padilla:
"The encryption key of the collection has been passed. The next step is to retrieve the collected data box!"
"Understood!" Sura agreed, and then walked back to the front of the team.
And in his seemingly calm heart, there is finally a chance that this seemingly endless task can be completed...
The team is advancing, but the enemies are still coming endlessly.
But as the emperor said:
The flames of war are the hottest melting pot, allowing this team with differences to reach a tacit understanding in the shortest time.
And it is precisely this kind of test that allows those heroes who truly belong to mankind to be tempered and then stand out...
The upper level of Zerita Hive, deep in the palace of the Planet Governor.
The Chaos Astartes warriors who sat high on the throne no longer paid any attention to the battle in the Archives after dispatching the direct guards of Tolikov's 8th Regiment.
The whereabouts of the holy objects and the actions of the imperial troops cannot cause him any sense of crisis.
The root of this confident attitude lies in the sacrificial ceremony to the Blood God that he is currently focusing all his energy on.
"That's enough, right?"
When the last "multiple of eight" sacrifice was made, he was driven into the blasphemous magic circle by his subordinates.
When the entire planet orbits in the galaxy, it also subtly conforms to the meaning of "eight".
This fallen space warrior who surrendered to Khorne finally waited for the moment he had been waiting for after countless attempts to endure the killing.
"Yes, as you wish now, I believe that the power of destruction will be pleased by your sacrifice!"
The rickety wizard answered softly, while the staff in his hand was quietly tightened.
He was afraid, afraid that this space warrior, this believer of the Blood God, would count him among the sacrifices the moment the ceremony was ready.
And this sense of crisis is by no means without reason. On the contrary, betrayal and cannibalism within Chaos are also the ingredients favored by the gods.
"Are you afraid?" The terrifying giant took off his helmet and walked towards the wizard in front of him.
His ferocious fangs swept by the long blood-colored tongue continued to open at inhuman angles, and then completed a cheek-tearing smile in the wizard's eyes.
"No, it's the fear of the gods."
The wizard lowered his head to avoid the collision of eyes, and then answered in a low voice.
He didn't want to conflict with this follower of the Blood God, but that didn't mean he had nothing to rely on.
A ring made of three skulls was on his hand with the sleeves exposed, and the holy symbol named "Seven" was also flashing on the back of his neck and on his chest.
"Hurry up, sir..." he advised softly.
"Lord Abaddon's patience is limited, and our mission does not allow for any surprises..."
Second update.