Chapter 605: A Small Accident of the Dark Crow

The Little Accident of the Dark Raven

Comoros, a super-void nest miracle in the dark dimension at the intersection of the webway, a shattered and twisted fragment of the afterglow of the ancient Eldar Empire.

Every inch of its land is soaked in blood, and every breath of air is full of pain.

Here, order and kindness have long been forgotten, and morality and conscience are like stories from the Arabian Nights, which will only lead to ridicule and humiliation.

This city of eternal night is like a rotting corpse of an ancient beast whose end no one knows, crawling in the depths of the webway, feeding the descendants of the ancient empire who live here.

The streets are layered and winding like countless intertwined snakes or tentacles. The buildings on both sides are twisted and deformed. The sharp tops of countless spires facing in all directions pierce the black suns in the sky, as if screaming silently. They pierce the purple sky like countless broken ribs, and the tips drip with blood that never dries up. From time to time, people walking here will find that blood rains down from the sky, and the slaves crawling on the surfaces of those magnificent and counterintuitive buildings are doing their eternal hard labor.

The air is filled with a sweet but rotten smell, which is the breath of pain and joy.

Every wall is inlaid with painful faces. Those are souls imprisoned forever. Their wails please the residents here and maintain their daily health.

Conspiracy and painful death spread in the corners of the wall, and the reflection of the broken blade illuminates the layers of dried blood on the ground.

Between the towering spires, a bridge woven by the energy of pain is suspended. The nobles of the Dark Eldar wore gorgeous clothes and walked gracefully through these translucent passages in high heels. Their laughter was sharp and piercing, like glass fragments scratching across the metal surface. Behind every smile, there was endless malice and calculation.

In the depths of the city, the triangular spires of the arena operated by the Witch Spirit Cult were very obvious in the sky. It was one of the most important facilities in Comoros, and the exquisite killing and the fear and pain extracted were the eternal themes.

In the arena's always full audience seats, the Dark Eldars fully absorbed the intense emotions squeezed from the slave combatants in the arena by the artistic killing of succubi or bloody witches. The fear and pain emitted by the slaves were constantly absorbed by hundreds of thousands of people. Every time the blade pierced into the flesh or the life splashed by the sharp teeth and claws, it would trigger a frenzy of cheers.

Each arena is crucial. They are a group of fresh food bowls that are always bleeding. The spectators are also eaters. The pupils of the audience will dilate due to excitement. With a twisted smile on the corners of their mouths, they taste the pain and soul of every slave and loser who appears here. After a full meal, they walk out of the arena with overflowing vitality and radiant youth.

Humans and various aliens that they are hostile to are hunted or captured. They are caught here just to become food and slaves of the Dark Eldar. The long or short pain that all those who are unfortunate to become slaves will then become the nutrients of Comoros and the resources produced in the bottom factories.

In the underground of each core of Comoros, there are also large and small groups of Haemonculi. Even among the Dark Eldar, they are very important and what makes the other side afraid is these ancient evil beings who have mastered the secrets of the resurrection of the Dark Eldar and part of their souls.

It is said that some of the oldest, meanest, and worst Haemonculi have even survived from the ancient Eldar Empire. Of course, these monsters are so ancient that they cannot escape the gaze of the Lady of Thirst. The only way for them to keep their souls in their bodies that have been transformed into the deepest nightmare and not be drained into dry corpses is to devour more and endless pain every day.

In general, this miracle city built on the suffering of slaves and even fellow tribesmen, a traveler like him will be filled with the urge to destroy it all as long as he takes a look.

But he knows very well that even now he can't do this wish.

But...

Some things can still be done with a little effort.

Corvus Clarks was standing on a sharp arena spire, overlooking the twisted city, thinking.

He was not worried that he would be seen by the naked eyes or detectors of the Dark Eldar in such a conspicuous place.

The body of Adalic Vannas, the descendant, has a very good combination of genes. He is the kind of descendant who can basically inherit his shadow talent. Therefore, he now condenses his body into it and walks freely in the complicated shadows of Comoros.

This place full of counterintuitive buildings is not short of shadows in all directions. The top of the tower where he is located has a projection of about three feet long and two inches wide facing the dying star. The location is excellent, which makes Clarks' surveillance very comfortable.

Now, he is patiently waiting for the hunting team that he heard is about to dock to pass by. Originally, he should rush back to the Destiny Steel to defend the door of the chapel, but when he happened to hear that a dark Eldar archon came to hunt and prepare to throw the prey into the witch spirit arena, he changed his mind.

It won't take much time to rescue this prey... at most a few hours, and the mecha position at the door of the chapel is enough to hold him back, and the construction and seal of the chapel itself are enough to block the "person" inside.

Generally speaking, those powerful soldiers will automatically go to repair the broken or destroyed runes and lines, but in fact, that "person" does not have time to attack the position every day. According to the rules of his previous defense for a while. In other words, there will be no impact within a few hours, which is enough for him to do what he wants to do here.

Perhaps, this will be a New Year gift that makes Magna Dorn happy. Clarks thought so, but it is undeniable that he has been somewhat unhappy with the bravest warriors among humans being captured and used to please aliens for a long time - God knows that he really comes to Como every time When Luo was in the future, he would save all the people who could save, but the people who were caught were still in a steady stream!

Just as he was thinking, at his feet—or, the men of a consul who walked over the twisted streets were driving over a dozen ragged prisoners, most of whom were aliens, and a few. A human.

Clarks' eyes swept through the numb faces one by one, and then at the end of the team, a tall figure came into his eyes. Although he was covered in heavy shackles and stained with blood, his special figure, gait, and silver battle. The broken team emblem in front of the armor on the left side shows that this is the target he is looking for.

"Caduron, the champion of the Iron Knights Chapter, nicknamed "Saint of Blades"..."

The Lord of the Dark Crow searched for his database list from an old man and found that the last time Kaduro was witnessed by his brothers in the real universe was more than seven hundred years ago, but obviously, The Kaduro, who appeared in front of him, was not what a warrior who had been tortured for more than seven hundred years.

The warrior has short dark brown hair and eye-catching blue eyes. Although his head was bleeding, the blood had long been stopped by his own Lariman cells. It looked nothing serious. His helmet might have been lost. , Clarks did not see it on the magnetic lock, and the fresh battle marks on his face with the power armor showed that he was captured alive in a premeditated battle.

Perhaps the ship carrying him encountered a sudden subspace storm, or something else, after almost seven hundred and seventy-four years of disappearance, the Iron Knights regiment, who had won more than once at the Blade Feast The company champion and swordsman are now being escorted to Comoros.

It is enough to know that this information is correct.

Saving this warrior from the disgraceful fate of being reduced to the food of these fallen people would make Clark feel better for a long time, so he chose to stay for a few more hours - anyway, it was not him who would make up for the next account. S, and to the best of his knowledge, Kaduro's fate is actually... not that important.

So as a small gift for a family, it's just right.

The King of Crows quietly jumped down the spire, but his heavy body and armor were even lighter than a black feather into the shadows beside the streets. The shadow gently embraced him, and the patrol of the Dark Spirit tribe roared. Flying over his head, no one found his existence, he was the shadow.

He walked to the end of the team.

The Dark Spirituals escorts still did not notice any problems.

On the contrary, only Kaduro looked at the shadow where he was, with doubt and vigilance.

Clarks clenched his fists.

Three, six dark claws on one side popped up silently from the ridges of his fists, like the claws of some kind of giant carnivorous dinosaur, sharp, long and deadly.

While starting to cut the throat of the third escort, the first dark elves who had been cut open his throat, touched his throat with a strange expression - and then a fountain of blood with pressure came from his blood The transport pipeline gushed out, and the team began to become panic. The escorts were alert and confused to tentatively firing and waving weapons in all directions.

"Follow me."

He approached the Iron Knight Astart, whispered like a ghost in his ear, and at the same time he took out two smoke bombs and threw them on the scene - fortunately, these dark elves do not use psychic energy.

The strange black smoke instantly spread out, blocking everyone's sight while swallowing up the limited light and sound.

He grabbed the other person's wrist, and his sharp claws cut open the shackles on the other person's body like a hot knife that cuts open butter, and at the same time drags the other person towards the retreat direction he has long been optimistic about.

There is no mistake, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one 619, one book, one, one, one, one, one, one, a book!

"Who are you?"

The Iron Knights champion asked in a low voice, but his body had instinctively moved with Clarks.

"No time to explain now," Clarks replied. "But I am a…savior. We have to leave before the smoke bomb effect ends."

They rushed into the intricate alleyway, and the footsteps of pursuers came from behind. Clarks took Caduro to shuttle through the three-dimensional maze-like streets, and from time to time, he shot back and forth with extremely accurate shots to solve several dark elves who were chasing too close. The pursuer.

"Left!" Kaduro suddenly shouted, his palms holding for a moment, as if he wanted to slash with a sword, but he forgot that his sword was taken away by his hunter.

However, Clarks had also noticed the attack. He turned sideways, and several vicious crystal dart fragments flew past his original head and crotch. The Lord of the Crow threw a plasma grenade backhanded in anger. It flew out, as if it had been shot out from a mini macro cannon, blowing the surprised sniper into a cloud of dust.

Even so, the sound of Dark Eldar flying bikes and other aircrafts coming from all directions after hearing the sharp alarms, shouting and excited to join their favorite hunting feast, is increasing.

Of course, Clarks has something to rely on. He led them here just to lead them in the opposite direction, and at the same time, he can easily use a large shadow space rune that he prepared before to temporarily transfer creatures other than himself to quickly leave this damn place and return to the safe Destiny Steel.

Well, although this is actually a very illegal (against the safety and anti-psychic defense regulations of Magnus, Perturabo and Dorn) fast direct connection without security inspection channel, but originally this kind of shadow channel is a one-time channel built on demand, and only the creatures brought by Clarks himself can pass through it once when used, so he thinks that it is just a special means for him to quickly return to his post, and it is not a big problem. You see, he doesn’t open this kind of channel every time.

"Hold me tight!" He turned a corner and saw the rune point that only shone in his shadow vision. Then he reached out again and grabbed Kaduron, who was also running behind him and was a little confused. "Close your eyes for a moment. No matter what happens, don't speak, and don't let go--uh!"

A slender figure suddenly rushed out from the side at a dizzying super-high speed like a cannonball, breaking through a thin wall and splashing pieces of debris.

"Bang!!!"

She just ran into Clarks who was holding Kaduron.

The shadow rune shone with the light of activation, and the black flowed out like liquid, instantly engulfing the three of them.

Afterwards, when the pursuers on the airships and motorcycles rushed here, there was nothing here except shadows and ruins.

And on the floor of the Destiny Steel, Clarks used the body of Vannas and Kaduron to stand in the gradually fading tide of shadows and looked at each other silently.

The latter's eyes were still full of doubt and vigilance, and he looked at the arms of the person who had just saved him.

There was a dark Eldar woman with blood on her head, her eyes were full of confusion and fear, completely different from other residents of Comoros.

"Save...save me...I...important...information..." She murmured weakly, almost inaudibly, and then fainted.

Just when the Dark Raven King decided to turn her into a corpse to be destroyed, a voice came from above his head.

"What is this? Huh?"