Chapter 725 17 Catching Eagles (IV)

Chapter 725 17. Catching Eagles (IV)

The First Caster clenched his fist tightly and then swung it. Something was broken by him, and a foul-smelling and sticky liquid burst out. A large part of it fell on his arm, causing a strong burning sensation the first moment it came into contact with his skin.

He ignored it and continued to swing his fist, as if he was not a flesh and blood creature, but a member of the divine machine made of gears and steel. It was a furious Titan, revealing the supreme majesty of the Messiah of Ohm.

More things were broken one by one under his fist.

Swollen limbs were beaten and splashed everywhere, melted flesh and blood hung on the rotten skeleton and swayed, and diseased organs fell hotly.

The First Caster forced himself to continue to swing his fist.

Has he learned how to fight? The answer is yes, Caul had trained him with some specially modified combat servants. Although his skills and experience were not as rich as those of a real Astartes, they were enough, at least for the seemingly endless zombies in front of him.

He could kill them easily. The power generated by his gestures alone was enough to tear the surface of their pale and swollen bodies and return them to death.

But the First Casting only felt sad.

He knew who these zombies were in their lifetime. He had never seen them, but he knew that they had lived ordinary and contented lives on Chemos. But now, all the beauty has completely disappeared.

The father is no longer a father, and the mother is no longer a mother. Their children follow their parents with cloudy eyes. Their skin has long melted, their teeth are black, and they keep making vague sounds in their throats, as if they have returned to the age of babbling.

The First Casting felt a dryness in his throat. He twisted the neck of the young zombie and then rushed forward, rushing into the zombie group as if to escape.

Relying only on brute force, he killed several zombies in the rubble until there were no more zombies standing on the rubble. He ended the battle and retreated to the rear of the battle line maintained by him alone.

Supervisor Clay Godun came over, looked up at him for a long time, and then nodded.

"You lied to me." The tired and bloody man spoke in a firm tone. "I don't think any noble can hire someone like you as a bodyguard."

"Someone like me?"

"Tireless, powerful, and fast-moving-" Godun snorted. "-You know, the object that best fits this description is actually Astartes."

The First Casting lowered his head and looked at him: "You want to say that I am an Astartes?"

"I'm trying to collect evidence to prove this." The Supervisor shrugged. "But I think it doesn't matter. It won't be long before we all die here."

The First Cast was silent for a moment, then said, "Not long ago, you were still encouraging people, telling them that support would arrive soon."

The Inspector waved his hand at him and lowered his voice, "That was just a lie. Look, we now have about a hundred survivors huddled in the corner of this square and shivering, but if I didn't tell that lie and let them be crushed by fear, I believe this number would be reduced to double digits or even single digits."

"They trust you."

The Inspector grinned and patted his forehead comically, "No, no, my friend, they believe in my armor and the helmet on my head, so they are willing to stay here instead of running around. Oh, damn it."

He suddenly cursed, his face wrinkled into a ball, as if he was suddenly punched in the stomach. He trembled and fell to his knees, and the turbid black liquid slowly dripped from between his clenched teeth. He growled incoherently, swore constantly, and trembled more and more violently, as if he was experiencing a spasm.

First Cast squatted down and tried to help him, but his hands were opened. The Inspector looked up at him, glaring at him, blood gushing from his eyes and nose, but he still clenched his teeth tightly, his throat rolling continuously, as if he was swallowing the pain

It was not until several seconds later that the spasm stopped, but the pain on his face did not improve.

He coughed and tried hard to turn from a kneeling position to a sitting position, and deliberately turned his back to the crowd. At this moment, the only person who could see Clay Godun's face clearly was First Cast.

He panted, sat up little by little, and his throat made a hoarse sound like a hoarse bellows, and then he spoke hoarsely. His voice was trembling, but his tone still sounded calm.

"We're all going to die here, and that's why, Anazion. I've read about it, and it's like an epidemic, you see? We're all patients, and we're all going to get sick, it's just a matter of time."

His eyes rolled up, and his whole body twitched. The First Casting immediately reached out to hold him, and this time, he didn't refuse.

"Oh my God."

Clay Goldun muttered and shook, sweat and blood running down his cheeks. After a few seconds, he stopped moving, staring blankly forward, and died sitting like this, with his right hand on his abdomen, his body leaning forward, and sticky blood oozing from his eyes.

The First Casting reached out and gently helped him straighten his helmet, then stood up and looked at the civilians. Similar scenes were happening again and again, which made him realize that what the Inspector said was true - it was just a matter of time.

Why is this happening? Did these people do something wrong?

The First Cast bent down tiredly and sat on the ground next to the Inspector. In just half a minute, no one except him was breathing here. He looked around in confusion, and his superhuman mind was lost at this moment.

He sat like this for a long time, until some kind of shrill scream came from the sky.

The First Cast raised his head and saw a new, dark sky made of steel, and thousands of points of fire rain across the iron curtain.

He stood up suddenly.

——

The young Emperor's son, Corporal Kius Solani, was in a hard fight - a real hard fight.

There was a deep wound on the right side of his helmet, as if it had been pierced by some huge and sharp object. There were two almost fatal claw marks on his breastplate, which almost tore his chest and the ceramic steel apart. His right leg had lost sensation, thanks to a sneak attack by his enemy two minutes ago.

So, yes, he was now facing an extremely embarrassing dilemma.

But it didn't matter, he still believed he could win.

The blade was extended, the decomposition field hummed, and the deadly weapon pierced a short and fat creature that had been screaming in an instant, and also pierced its "mount" - a one-eyed monster holding a rusty sword and screaming on its head.

After a successful strike, Kius immediately rotated his wrist, causing more rotten flesh to melt in an instant, and then immediately drew his sword and turned around to cut a giant fly that tried to sneak attack him from the sky in half.

The hot juice suddenly splashed, burning his armor hissing, and also made a group of zombies rushing towards him make louder grunts. Their expressions seemed to be painful, but also like joy, and the parts of their bodies that were stained with the juice were rapidly changing.

The corporal noticed this, so he immediately dragged his insensitive right leg and rushed towards them. He held the sword in his backhand and used a powerful drag to instantly cut the four zombies in half.

He deliberately forced himself to ignore the Chemos costumes they wore and just swung his sword. Broken limbs flew everywhere and heads fell to the ground. He had killed as quickly as he could, but it was still not as fast as the zombies' replenishment speed.

The huge vines that had surrounded the floating platform were constantly bringing various monsters here.

Kius immediately realized that he had to retreat, but just as this thought came to his mind, another group of rot flies buzzed towards him.

They were huge, almost as big as half a shuttle, with poisonous needles on their tails that were several meters long and their forelimbs bent like huge sickles. However, the most terrifying organ on them must be their huge, retractable mouthparts.

They were covered with fangs and dripping with venom, and they could bite off a person's head with just one bite. The corporal had seen it more than once, and he knew how difficult these things were.

He swung his sword again, clearing two meters around him, and then raised the sword in his hand to the sky in a battle array, making an invitation, and then immediately dragged his lame leg to avoid the dive of the first fly and the attack of the hateful enemy on its back. Then he immediately backhanded a punch, breaking the head of the thing that rushed towards him without knowing whether to live or die, and then his right hand extended a sword diagonally upward, accurately and cruelly repeating the same trick, instantly cutting the second fly in half.

The hot and sticky liquid splashed all over him again, and a red warning flashed before his eyes-Kius was very reluctant to realize that if he did this again, his power armor would probably be scrapped on the spot.

In desperation, the corporal had to retreat again and again to ensure that he could find a suitable angle to face the attack head-on. But he didn't know that a group of fat and short creatures had been quietly waiting for a long time.

Since he killed one of them, the creatures had set their sights on him, and now they realized that their chance had come.

The creatures collectively burst into a shrill laughter, jumped out of the warm corpse, and climbed onto his right leg and back at the moment when the corporal was least expecting it - crunch, crunch, crunch, they began to chew his armor in big mouthfuls, and screamed and pulled him, trying to make him lose his balance.

No mistakes, one post, one content, one 6, one 9, one book, one bar, one look!

One or two may not be a problem, but there are at least a dozen of them. The corporal fell down, but he was still fighting. He crushed a small monster to death with his left hand, and then clenched his fist to kill another one, but it was no use.

A huge fly had aimed at him with the poisonous stinger on its tail, and was now diving down at a rapid speed.

At this critical moment of life and death, the corporal was still trying to raise the sword. He accepted death, but he would never allow himself to die in this way. He must maintain the honor of the Emperor's Children.

Unfortunately, the group of little monsters that had overwhelmed him didn't think so. They giggled and quickly climbed onto his right hand. Five or six of them together pressed his right hand so hard that he couldn't use any force.

The corporal roared with bloodshot eyes, but he could only watch the flashing tail needle getting closer and closer to him.

Until a muffled sound like thunder sounded.

What is this sound? This thought suddenly flashed through the corporal's confused mind. He shouldn't be distracted at this moment, but he had no choice because the sudden appearance of the sword light had taken away all his attention.

The same was true for the little monsters who were busy torturing him. Their screams and laughter suddenly disappeared, and they all fell silent, like beasts that had seen their natural enemies.

The corporal finally came to his senses. He gritted his teeth and grasped the sword, and suddenly broke free from the restraints.

However, before he could raise the sword, the fly that was sliding towards him was suddenly split into two in the middle of the flight, and quickly fell to the ground, as if it had hit some invisible sharp blade. Then the little monsters on his body trembled one by one, made a cry that was almost like crying, and quickly fled.

A hand pulled him up from the ground.

"Don't go deep into the enemy's camp when fighting them." A calm voice warned him. "They are not as slow as they look on the surface."

Gius looked up and wanted to thank him, but he saw a completely unfamiliar Astartes.

The other party was wearing an unusually simple dark blue old-fashioned power armor. There was almost no decoration or mark of honor on his body. Only the left shoulder was painted in a special silver, on which was engraved a blade emblem that Gius had only seen in the information, and there was a golden lightning on the edge of the shoulder armor.

Through the reflection of his scarlet eyepiece, the corporal finally saw what he looked like at the moment. But why did he need such evidence to prove his embarrassment and inexperience?

He nodded silently, then beat his chest and saluted, and spoke impatiently.

"Thank you for your help, are you a battle brother of Nightblade?"

The battle brother glanced at him and shook his head: "I know what you are thinking, corporal, but you may be disappointed. My legion is not here."

"What? But-?"

"My legion is not here." The battle brother repeated to him. "But it doesn't matter, look up to the sky, corporal, support has arrived."

Kius should not have done as he was told, but the man's voice sounded so steady and reliable that he looked up unconsciously.

He saw a dark iron curtain, an iron curtain surging like a living thing. No, that's not right, it is alive, it is a kind of torrent composed of countless steel and machinery.

The corporal looked at it in shock for several seconds, not realizing that the surroundings had been quiet for a while. When he lowered his head, the Astartes who suddenly appeared had disappeared. No matter how he looked around, he couldn't find any trace.

Could it be that I saw a ghost? The young corporal couldn't help but think so.