Chapter 533 Surprise
Chapter 533 Surprise!-
When Genevieve closed her jetpack, landed lightly in front of the gloomy door of the monastery crypt, and pressed her hand on the heavy and delicate "I"-shaped genetic code lock key, she His mood was not as appreciative as that of Archdeacon Mendazus, nor was it full of twisted and weird ecstasy like Deacon Walter in front of him.
Yes, although the Monastery of the Abyss was in the catacombs of the Sanctuary of Santa Morica, and she had known since she was a child that it had always been there.
But even at this critical moment, she still couldn't hide her disgust for this place as perfectly as her sister Eleanor.
Perhaps this is why among the twins, Eleanor has always been the more determined, more decisive, and more appreciated by the Archdeacon, while Genevieve, as her oath-sworn Sister, leads the Seraphs to guard the land around here—— As for Genevieve herself, she is more willing to rush forward. Why did Cardinal Subara's prophecy back then appoint the twin girls to become nuns to guard here? But no one could answer the questions in her mind, and the cardinal himself was long dead.
The deacon loudly recited scriptures that confessed his sins and praised the glory of the God-Emperor, while using a sprinkler made of silver and horsehair, he evenly sprinkled holy water on the lamb that slowly emerged from the doorway at his feet and passed slowly. On the group.
"...I don't mean to interrupt the ceremony, Steward, but can you make them move faster? The battle is urgent in front of our defensive wall."
She quietly moved the heel of her combat boots by half a centimeter uneasily. Her cherubim noticed her uneasiness. Before she spoke, she thoughtfully lowered her height and leaned over. It flapped its wings and began to move the incense burner it was holding toward her. Swinging here, the incense somehow covered up some of the smell, and Genevieve was grateful at the moment.
Deacon Walter did not pay much attention to the change in the mood of the Sister of the Oath. He was full of joy and curled his moist lips, revealing to Genevieve that he had become a child due to long years of managing the lambs underground and as a result of penance. The rotten black teeth and receding gums - which can be said to be mutually confirmed with the white robe on his body that was repeatedly soaked with sweat and turned into a dark yellow - at least Deacon Walter seems to be really devout and serious about loving him. This responsibility was handed over.
"Don't worry, sister nun," he said, wearing black goggles, because he spent many years in seclusion in the catacombs with his flock, so even the sunlight of Cadia, now obscured by the gunpowder smoke, had no effect on him. It’s too dazzling to say, “These sinful lambs are starting to They must be brought to the designated location before starting their atonement, otherwise their charge line will become too messy and intertwined after a while, and they will attack any living creature around them, so if there is no guidance, it may lead to cannibalism. It does not serve our purpose of atonement.”
Genevieve closed her mouth and slightly opened up some space in the passage - she had seen that behind the heretics, traitors and deserters who had recently been thrown here to atone for their sins and whose bodies still had fresh suture marks, are some who have stayed here longer They are all in rags and are wearing tattered shrouds, and many of the lambs have had their limb ends cut off and inserted with chain saw blades, electric flails or other means. The weapon favored by the national religious jihadists——
They all wore the same canvas hoods as their Shepherd Steward counterparts, but what was different was that she could see the unopened reinforced eyepieces bolted directly to their skulls, as well as the mind-control headbands. The hoop allowed the lobotomized lambs to maintain a certain quietness and order before the atoning charge was launched, and Genevieve frowned slightly without realizing it.
The furrow in her brow reached its deepest point when she saw the member at the end of the team.
After the ascetic sheep, whose limbs were twisted and deformed due to old age or the moisture and mold of the tomb, and whose flesh turned red, white and rotten, twisted and crawled over on all fours, the heavy armor of the Atonement Mecha The sound of metal walking feet on the ground and the stench rushed out of the tomb's door, which has never been exposed to sunlight all year round.
The naked bodies of heretics and deserters were hung among the messy cables and chains. Most of them only had the upper half of their heads connected to the fire control auxiliary system by cables through metal masks nailed into the skull. Chemical syringes were also connected to the cables. It was implanted into the spines of these lambs who committed heresy and escape crimes, and it continuously circulated in their cerebral cortex and consciousness to remind them of the crimes they had committed, and to remind them to rush towards the target for this purpose. target, seeking redemption; and finally, the procession of pilots buried within the metal confinement of the Ascetic mecha, buried by an eternal infusion of intensifying potions of neurological torment and self-loathing, even while so meekly expelled, from which The trembling limbs of the torture-like mecha equipped with a flamethrower, the nails driven into the bones, and the terrible pain transmitted to Genevieve by the squeaking pistons also made her hair stand on end.
All these entities breathing heavily, drooling, and crawling slowly on the ground are exactly the lambs that Deacon Walter said he was caring for for the Holy Established Church and the Sisters of Martyred Ladies, the ascetic dependents he managed, and he was satisfied Looking at them, Deacon Walter used a deliberately prolonged hymn tone as the end of the sprinkling of holy water ceremony, chanting, "My sheep, today is the precious and glorious atonement for you who have sinned deeply." day."
"We'd better hurry up, Deacon." Even though she warned herself that these were heretics, criminals, cowardly deserters, scum, and that this was the penance they deserved for the sins they had committed, Genevieve could no longer endure it. Not wanting to go any further, she tightened her face and stretched out her hand, "They shouldn't be activated now, right? Give me the controller, and then we'll attack."
He carefully picked up a brass box from the plate held by the servitor beside him, and kissed the seal on it religiously before handing it to her, and then told her how to use this thing, "Once Turn on the key, and the control headband on their head will stimulate their brains, and they will immediately start attacking and charging, not caring what is in front of them.”
"Then how do we guide him... them to attack the specific targets we need?"
"That's right, sisters, the command is 'KILL! KILL! KILL! (KILL! KILL! KILL!)', and you also need this." Deacon Walter grinned, sincerely thinking that these lambs were about to be redeemed. moment of joy Flashing from his deformed face, he handed Genevieve a pendant with the Emperor's sacred name engraved on it, "Hang it and they won't attack you. What a holy and glorious day! Let We loudly praise the golden divine One on the throne!”
His piety comes from the bottom of his heart, "In the history of Cadia, the lambs of the monastery have only had two opportunities to atone for their sins. This time..."
"Thank you for your service, Brother Deacon, let us end the blasphemy of the enemy." Genevieve interrupted him, put on the pendant, and asked the remaining eighteen Seraph Sisters around her to prepare - —After these lambs complete their atoning charge and weaken the enemy with their own flesh and blood, it’s their turn. Although Eleanor may not agree, Genevieve longs for it - she longs to sing the Emperor's name, fly high, fly, hold a sharp sword and pounce on the full moon that can be seen now as long as she looks back. The red figure between heaven and earth - receiving from him the sacred sacrifice that he had prepared for his whole life.
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"You just said it nicely. Aren't you worried about what will happen here after you fail to stop his killing?"
The War Blacksmith grunted and grabbed the Potion Master's right arm, inserting it like a key into a specially reserved port on one of their Brutal Blades. The majestic main gun of this ancient behemoth was now covered by a huge drill and It was replaced by an iron ball that demolished the building. It looked very aggrieved and angry - strange, why did he think so? ——But the next second, the skin on Honso's shining silver arm began to vibrate, and at the same time, the metal on the Brutal Blade turret began to resonate with it, and as the resonance frequency reached a certain consistent level After that, Honso stared at the eyepiece He looked up the appearance and structure diagram of a twin-mounted vacuum accelerating cannon that had just been input. He began to focus desperately on transferring this extremely complicated drawing to his arm, and then followed the strange contact feeling on his arm to find a way to "transmit" it. Go to the turret.
Here is father's Reka coffee cup! This was much harder than he thought! But Honso will not lose! He will prove it to any Iron Warrior! He, Honso, is the best, strongest, and smartest son among the Iron Warriors!
"Uh huh huh... That's not because of you..." The potion master, whose brain power was mostly occupied, responded to his peers' questions through his teeth.
"Okay, even if I am here to help you hold him down, but even if you have an unimaginable way to restore such a powerful force to his precious rationality, then how are you going to convince the group of fanatical believers in front of us not to continue attacking him? Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Battle Sisters and Ecclesiarchy followers are sometimes much harder to deal with than Brother Astartes.”
"Well... then you still have to be there..." The Potion Master rolled his eyes, obviously it was very difficult for him to copy the cannon blueprint designed by an otherworldly brain at high speed.
"You...I know it's a bit difficult to repair this cannon, but fortunately you only need to load the data once for each type of weapon, and they will arrange it themselves when encountering repeated situations. Okay. We'd better get rid of my boys and the Guard's vehicles before he destroys everything he can."
they.
The Potion Master blinked and felt the numb and strange touch of countless extremely fine limb tips passing over his metal skin. A wave of goosebumps started from his arms and climbed up his spine to his scalp.
But at the same time, he also saw that his efforts were bearing fruit. The drill bit and the demolition iron ball were melting, merging, and flowing strangely, and began to shape a new double-linked vacuum accelerating cannon.
Obviously this was not a casting technique known to mankind, let alone legal and reasonable. He once again suspected that he had agreed to cooperate with this old man who magically should not be here at a glance, and based on this, he planned the thirteenth plan. Was the Primarch's journey of relaxation a little too trusting? But at this moment, in this situation, even if the partner who provided help in times of need was to drink a dove to quench his thirst, he had to let Hong Suo quench his thirst first before talking about detoxification.
And this old guy himself is so weird that he can't stop being a pharmacist...
He followed the other party to the next vehicle waiting for modified weapons.
"Tell me more about your current physical condition, Barabas."
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anger.
anger.
Burn everything.
In the face of such a raging, wild, instinctive and primitive flame, the planetary governor is no different from the poor child of the bottom nest, the void whale and the bacteriophage are equally burned, and all things will equally face their end of being destroyed into ashes by such a huge force, so that all living beings and the galaxy——
A roar like a group of beasts is like the roar of evil spirits breaking through the gates of hell, and the amber eyes of the thirteenth primarch standing on the ruins of the last skull master turn to the direction of the temple gate.
He saw it.
What... what painful and tortured people!
Even though he had fought against the Chaos Demons nine thousand years ago, witnessed the horror brought by Lorgar, and had deeply penetrated the desecrated and corrupted halls of the Emperor's Pride, the miserable and painful appearance of these people still shocked the child of Konor and Euden in his heart.
Through the orange-red vision that seemed to be standing in the burning core of a star or the center of the flames of hell, the Thirteenth Primarch saw these souls crying, praying, and running towards him. They stretched out their hands to him, as if he was their only salvation.
——
Genevieve flew in the sky, looking at the six hundred and fifty pairs of enhanced eyepieces below: those were six hundred and fifty pairs of scarlet eyes, without reason, only endless torture, repentance and pain.
She looked at the sheep whose frontal lobes had been removed and seemed to be stunned for a moment, and then all rushed to the most eye-catching red existence on the battlefield.
The biggest heretic who had rushed into the battlefield, killed their enemy and replaced him, the mist on him had dissipated into the wind, and now she could see the sinful face of this big demon more clearly: the face was tattooed with heretical words, and the black horns growing on the forehead made his beautiful face look solemn... no, it looked more weird and twisted! The blasphemous heretical scrolls on his limbs and waist fluttered in the burning wind on the battlefield. His limbs were strong and elegant... God Emperor! She didn't mean it!
"Grand Sister!" Senior Sister Navatri exclaimed in the air slightly below her, "Look!"
She looked in the direction of the voice.
"Oh! God Emperor! You bring us the omen of victory!"
She sang joyfully first. In front of her sight, the crazy attacks of the Penance and the Penitent completely enveloped the weird demon from all directions. Everyone could only see the saw blades raised high and then falling, the reflection of the flails, and the light of the heavy bombs and flamethrowers.
——
They need him to bring them salvation and peace.
For some reason, immersed in the amber vision, no one said this to him, and he didn't hear any physical sound, but Robert Mercury Guilliman was sure of this.
He looked down at the person who was hitting his power armor with a circular saw and electric flail that replaced his hands. This was a young woman. There was no rational thinking in her mind, but fear and pain. Her weakness was infinitely magnified and cycled to torture her. She was in hell: a spiral hell of guilt and self-blame that could not be escaped, but could not be repented or enlightened.
But should he kill such a painful person? Was it right for him to do so? He heard intermittent conversations coming from somewhere.
Konor's son pricked up his ears and listened.
"...Is the recent Reka coffee a little off? I always feel that the aroma is gone. It seems that it has been drunk even though it was just brewed... Alas, in short, you get what you want... After all, he is the son of what they believe to be "God", the biological son of the Emperor. Judging from the reaction of the little priest at that time, for such a believer of the state religion, being killed by Guilliman himself is definitely a relief and atonement. It can even be said that it is not too much of a reward..."
Is that so?
He looked at his hands thoughtfully, not caring about the painful attacks that chopped, cut, shot and burned him - he was powerful now, and he knew that as long as he didn't listen to the words from Konor's son, he would always be as powerful, or even stronger.
Do you want to listen?
Konor's son rolled his eyes again, looking at the people surrounding him.
They were crazy and painful, but he also "saw" the pleading faces on their twisted souls like beasts.
Guilliman raised his hand with a slight sigh.