Chapter 681 63 Belated Judgment (Twenty-Five)

Chapter 681 63. Belated Judgment (Twenty-five)

"Die quickly," said Serafax.

He never thought he would say such a thing, but facts speak louder than words, don't they? His sword was stuck deep in the chest of a demon. Logically speaking, the decomposition field would turn any flesh into nothingness, but this demon was an exception.

Its flesh is more staring and evil than its kind, so it is harder to kill. In the past twelve seconds, Serafax has cut off its left arm and dissected its abdomen , smashed its left eye with his fist.

And now, he has pierced his sword deeply into its heart, and is even exerting force a second time, wrestling with its right hand resting on the sword grid, trying to split it into two pieces - But somehow this thing just doesn't die.

The knowledge belonging to the Chaos Wizards quietly surfaced in the Dark Angel's mind. They provided analysis in a very indifferent but also very precise voice, and finally converged into a conclusion.

This demon had been enhanced - it had reached a level it was not supposed to be at, which was extremely unusual.

Serafax has no doubt that even if he now enters the warp space to confront the spirit of this demon and reenacts this battle, the spirit will not be more difficult to deal with than this filthy etheric body.

And the reason. You only need to look around to know the reason.

"weak!"

The demon laughed and spat out its disdain. It may not have roared, but its voice sounded just like the loudest engine noise, if not more annoying.

Serafax didn't bother to pay attention to its comments on his words, but silently used another strategy - he loosened his hands, and then quickly stepped back, grabbing it before the demon's right claw tore his breastplate apart. He took out the second gun on his waist, a pocket-sized bolt gun.

There was a flash of fire, and four explosive bombs embedded themselves in the demon's open belly, beating the inside to pieces and creating a huge hole. In this way, the red upper body was divided into two parts by Serafax in another way.

He resisted the urge to spit, walked over silently, and crushed its face with his foot before pulling out his sword and throwing out the stinking blood stained by the closure of the decomposition field.

At this point, the battle has truly ended, but it is just a battle.

Serafax turned around, bypassed the huge crack in the ground caused by the Titan's fall, stepped on a scrap armored vehicle to a high place, and then jumped into another battlefield. .

Here, relying on the Fire Bee Legion's Monstrous Flame Emperor-class Titan and gathering under the command of the Blood Angel "The Herald" Zefon, the remnant troops are trying to strangle their enemies-traitors and demons.

Unreasonably, the demons are the ones with fewer numbers and fewer types, but the traitors.

Among them were ragged barbarian cult believers with fanatical expressions, as well as former imperial soldiers wearing crude armor, and even undisguised cannibals mixed in among them. They were covered with bones that had been chewed cleanly. On his neck, the holy seal of chaos glowed with blood on his protruding forehead.

Serafax had no intention of doing the tedious work of classifying and summarizing for them. The details he really paid attention to were their weapons.

From the original version of the light gun distributed by the Empire during the Great Crusade, to the cheap and improved version that appeared ten centuries later. It can even be said that, except for those barbarians who insist on using stone spears, the weapons in the hands of the remaining traitors It could form a crude encyclopedia of mortal weapons.

There is simply no logic to this incident, because it reveals one thing: this is not the first time that the timeline of this day - the day Terra was broken - has been changed.

Serafax had anticipated this, but he only envisioned a few crazy timeline jumpers like him. He never thought that someone would throw countless mortals into the world after the rebellion. In this bloody furnace.

The Dark Angel secretly warned himself that he must be more vigilant, and at the same time quickened his pace, crashing into the crowd like a beast charging at full speed.

The remnant soldiers Zefeng gathered were not that many. The total number was only a few thousand. They were not even a drop in the bucket in a battlefield of the level of the Battle of Terra, even if their willpower and combat effectiveness were fully worthy of it. A war would not help either.

Therefore, in Serafax's mind, he must do something risky - just like now, he threw himself into the center of the enemy.

Every pair of eyes turned to him with a desire to kill, and there was no fear of the Astartes in them, only the urge to thirst for his blood.

It seemed simple, but the Dark Angel still got an inference from certain subtleties that he could understand but didn't want to accept: these people must have killed Astartes like him, and there was definitely more than one.

They're craving more.

This is simply.

Serafax swung his sword vigorously, twisting his arms and twisting his hips. His superhuman speed and strength, coupled with the swordsmanship derived from Caliban, allowed him to chop off a dozen hideous-looking heads with one sword.

The blood is blooming and spurting high, and the high-pressure blood in the carotid artery is kicking off the killing in a way that is unsuitable for human bleeding. And Serafax didn't even want to wait for them to fall, so he randomly picked a direction and launched another charge.

He knew the technique of fighting one against many - in this isolated and helpless situation, he must not stay in one place, but must keep moving at all times to create death in the most efficient and cruel way.

Once again, his strategy worked. After several charges, facing the corpses all over the ground, the mortal traitors who surrounded him were obviously stronger and better equipped.

Serafax even saw some people in military uniforms communicating with each other in sign language, as if they wanted to use a whole set of tactics against him - and he had to admit that this set of tactics was really good.

He meant really good.

Two deformed Ogryns were rushing towards him from another direction.

It was really weird.

The Dark Angel felt a little amused at this moment: Great, why haven't I heard that the rebellious Ogryns captured by the desire for killing can still obey commands and orders after going to the battlefield? They didn't even kill the people who blocked their way when they rushed over.

However, at this point, Serafax had no better choice than to fight, because the two brushes were almost in front of him.

This seemed unreasonable. After all, in addition to the praised strength of the Ogryn barbarians, there was another stereotype that the general public was accustomed to, that is, clumsy. But as long as you think about it carefully, you will know that with such a deformed muscle structure that can surpass the strength of the Astartes, how slow can their speed be?

What's more, the two Chaos barbarians were not actually armored. They were even running towards him barefoot, with bloody legs and a body of meat mud.

Serafax dodged several beams of light, and at the same time turned his sword and held it in reverse, and collided with them head-on at a faster speed. It seemed reckless, but he was actually very careful to slow down at the last moment.

The life and death instincts trained from the Legion period made him do this without thinking, and then he raised his sword. The reverse grip brought a larger angle. Although the power was insufficient, it was enough to open the abdomen of one of the Ogryns.

The steaming internal organs mixed with its sticky and turbid blood gushed out, and the speed of the thing did not even slow down at all - it was no longer aware of pain, and the key to this could be found in the deformed helmet on its head.

Therefore, Serafax quickly let go, letting the sword get stuck in its bones and muscles, and immediately pulled back, with his left hand already on a string of grenades on his waist. He wanted to play a dirty trick of killing two birds with one stone, and he could pay a little price for it.

However, the price was heavier than he thought, because the second barbarian had arrived and punched his breastplate.

This punch directly penetrated the ceramic steel and made his chest dent, and the whole person flew back several meters due to the huge impact force - yes, even with the person and the armor, such weight could not withstand the power of this chaotic Ogryn.

Fortunately, he was an Astartes, and his superhuman physique helped him suppress the pain the moment he was injured. A large amount of adrenaline mixed with the painkillers built into the power armor and finally rushed to his eyes, forming a kind of artificial rage.

The Dark Angel vomited blood and climbed up, ripped off the head of a traitor beside him, and punched another one to death, and finally had time to grab the grenade on his belt.

His breathing became extremely heavy, but his attention was fixed on the two monsters that were still charging at him - then he raised his arm and threw the string of fragmentation grenades with the oldest long-range attack method of mankind.

There was only a muffled bang, the blood sea rolled, and the broken bodies and arms flew high, but Serafax did not look at the results of the battle, but turned and ran.

The heavy footsteps disappeared one by one, but there was still one.

He ran and killed, harvesting lives, thinking that he could find a chance to breathe, but he didn't expect that a dazzling fire came from the front.

At the moment it engulfed him, Serafax saw a fanatical face and explosive packs tied all over his body.

The same tactics?

After this thought came to his mind, his consciousness was offline for a moment, but the part hidden in his soul still abided by the set rules and did not use any power that did not belong to the identity of "Dark Angel" to reverse the situation.

A few seconds later, with two defibrillator shocks and all the combat drugs pushed into the blood vessels, Serafax stood up again, although he was shaky, but he still stood up.

The injury analysis told him that he had to perform surgery on the chest immediately, otherwise the flying fragments would probably pierce deeper and deeper. He ignored it and just bent down to pick up an obsidian spear from the pile of corpses-a primitive weapon, not hard enough, but extremely sharp.

It once belonged to a primitive man, but now it was firmly held in Serafax's hand. Six seconds later, it deeply penetrated into the body of a bruised Chaos Ogryn, and created horrifying wounds due to the power of the holder.

Serafax roared and stabbed the Ogryn to the ground, and began to step on its head. When he stepped on it for the first time, it still had the strength to punch, but he dodged it, so the second force became heavier and aimed at its neck, which had exposed its trachea.

With a creak, the barbarian's head was broken, but this was not a victory, because the tide of mortal traitors from all directions continued to surge.

Serafax looked around and found that they were not in a hurry to shoot and knock him to the ground. What exactly they wanted to do, the answer is self-evident.

He took a deep breath and finally admitted that he underestimated them. In fact, not only that, apart from them, he also underestimated the intensity, breadth and depth of the Terra War. This is simply a fatal mistake, but thinking back carefully, it seems reasonable.

After the end of the Great Heresy, the intelligence in this regard has been classified as top secret. Unless he enters the solar system, it is impossible to touch any information-but how can he get in?

Based on his strength at that time, even if the power of the Ten Thousand Eyes is doubled, it is not enough to fight against the garrison inside the solar system. Moreover, although he has wandered through so many timelines, each line is different. He has warned himself in advance with the worst parts of his experience, but it is still not enough.

At this moment, Serafax felt strangely proud-he smiled strangely and thought: Well, where I come from and where I go is the most terrifying place? That makes sense.

But

The Dark Angel looked up - the only reason that forced him not to use power beyond his current status was there, a figure, inconspicuous, was falling rapidly.

The turbine screamed.

The Blood Angel Zefon fell in front of him with a gloomy face, stirring up a pool of blood. The jump bag behind him was still spraying, falling on Serafax's naked wound, not only did not make him feel pain, but also surged with warmth.

He hadn't felt this way for a long time, and the herald knew nothing about it. He just raised his gun and fired, and the explosives fell into the crowd, literally blowing a huge gap. After that, the remaining soldiers looked at this place expressionlessly, holding their swords and guns tightly in their hands.

A few minutes later, the battle was over.

"Well fought." The Blood Angel praised, but his tone was not very gentle. "Just ignore the fact that you threw yourself into their encirclement."

"I was too arrogant on the strategic level."

Serafax said, bowing his head to admit his mistake, and holding his breath so that the Blood Angels could help him treat his injuries more conveniently - such a thing, such a common thing that happened every day of war, how long has it been since he experienced it?

He looked up at Zefeng, whose frown had loosened, and even looked a little surprised, as if to say: A Dark Angel would admit his mistake?

Serafax almost laughed - if the Chaos Wizard in his soul didn't remind him.

Now remember that he is an Astartes, wanting to pursue brotherhood and die in a worthwhile war? Don't you think it's a little too late? Do you need me to remind you what you are here for?

The Dark Angel exhaled a breath of bloody air, and suddenly spoke, asking a question that caught Zefeng off guard.

"Should we leave here and join the main force?"