Chapter 1921 The Head of Two Hundred Swordsmen (Part 1)
After terminating the gang-hopping plan, Lucius immediately took people to the "poppy" where the gang had been "jumped", but the communication from the ship was completely interrupted ten minutes ago.
Although it was hard to believe, reason told Lucius that the one hundred Slaanesh warriors on the ship, who could move through the hail of bullets and swords and halberds with ease, were all doomed.
And the person who did all this, if the information he received was correct, was just one person.
Interesting, very interesting, even his intuition told him faintly——
That's the person he's looking for.
So he ignored the dissuasion of some people and insisted on going there in person. Cleon even wanted to sink the ship, but Lucius stopped the demon. He didn't know why the other party was so afraid, but this was what he had to do.
things to be solved.
It is something he must resolve to achieve true perfection...
The regrets left on Istvan III must also end.
Soon, several Thunderhawks carried Lucius's most trusted warriors to the Poppy, which had stopped its engine. Along the way, the slaves mourned the tragic death of their master, but Lucius ignored them.
However, these cartilage bones did tell him a useful piece of news.
The other party was waiting for him on the bridge.
Great, that will save you a lot of trouble.
This style made him more and more convinced that he should be that person.
The bridge of the Poppy is more like a nest than a command center. The shabby flags from the companies of the Third Legion are hung from the ceiling, undulating in the air stirred by the ventilation fans, and the luxurious carpets are made of human leather.
Huge white bones lined the walls. When the warriors of Slaanesh strode past, the eye sockets of those broken skulls seemed to grow out of thin air, and the jaws covered with fangs laughed silently.
On the dome, bells, wind chimes and chains made of human bones and skin jingled without rhythm. Slaves with tattoos and marks of Slaanesh on their bodies were lying on the ground, holding plates of rotten meat in their hands.
and other unpleasant consumables, stained with stale perfume and various stimulants and addictive drugs.
The observation window in the distance is shaped like a screaming mouth. The faint light of the lavender explosion-proof glass combined with the smoke lingering in the room makes the entire environment look dreamlike. At the same time, you can also see in the corners and walls.
The remaining succubi let out shrill wails, filled with grief for the tragic deaths of their lovers. Their vicious claws clicked along with the cries, and their bodies flickered in and out, like candles swaying in the wind.
Struggling to maintain his physical form.
In front of the observation window is a huge command throne, covered with cushions and silk. A tall figure is leaning on the throne, surrounded by many snake-like things surrounding him, coiled at his feet like pets.
Those were the slaves of the original Slaanesh warriors, but they were forced to serve another existence by force. The high platform under the throne was completely made up of the destroyed Slaanesh warriors. Their armor was stripped off and turned white.
His body was split open and became a stepping stone for the former slaves.
As he got closer, Lucius saw the guy clearly. He didn't look very tall. He was wearing simple power armor and a helmet. His left fist was supporting his head, as if he could feel the mocking gaze through the dark eyepiece.
, two swords were placed diagonally beside the throne, one was a red power sword, and the other was wrapped in yellow silk.
Seeing this, Lucius' brows twitched slightly, as if he was remembering something, and his expression slowly turned from mocking at the beginning to serious.
At this time, the man nodded slightly and seemed to be looking Lucius up and down.
"I must admit, your parody piqued my interest."
When Lucius stopped, dozens of the most elite veterans of the Nashikai Brigade spread out in a fan shape, pointing the guns in their hands at the people on the throne. Their bodies no longer had the original gorgeous and clean purple armor.
The parts covered by human skin reveal extremely different colors and patterns, with black, silver and rose colors mixed in. There are also armors that change different tones with every heartbeat like iridescence. A few people are still wearing purple power armor.
He entered the battlefield, but all his former glory was lost, and instead he was covered in blackened flesh and blood.
The Emperor's Children Legion was long dead, and the Naschi'ai Legion was but a fragment of a corpse, merely assembled from the Legion's corruption.
The Immortal glanced at the dead Slaanesh warriors, and then sneered.
"When did you become so...artistic?"
The man did not reply, but sat up straight and looked at the other man without a helmet, Pharmacist Kesar - his face was flawless, and he did not have scars from battle or self-mutilation like other brothers, and his hair was thick and bushy.
His black hair is combed back, his eyes are dark amber, and his pale face always has a cold and gloomy gaze. The pharmacist looks incredibly young, and it is unimaginable that his qualifications are almost as long as those of the legion with the same name.
He has seen the Legion decline, rise, and then fall again. He has fought against the assassins, participated in the purification of the killing fields of Isstvaan, and spread screams on the throne world. His long life has witnessed the past of the Emperor's Children.
What they looked like, and what they have become now.
Then, the mysterious man on the throne sighed and shook his head.
"You shouldn't be like this, Caesar. You once said that you may not be the most perfect swordsman, but you will create the most perfect heart for yourself. Is this the perfection you pursue?"
His voice was full of distortion after the adjustment of the helmet, but after hearing those words, the former army pharmacist took a step forward as if he was electrocuted.
"You...who are you!"
The other party did not answer, and Caesar turned to look at Lucius.
"The Immortal, you know him, right? Who is he!? Why does he know what I...I said!"
Lucius took a deep breath, and other people in the Naxikai brigade were also whispering secretly. Everyone was not an idiot. Some of them had already guessed that the person above might have been a member of the legion.
Those loyalists who should have been killed.
"Stop your little tricks of sowing discord. I don't want to lose my pharmacist just like this."
Caesar was stunned for a moment, then he looked at the sword wrapped in yellow silk, his pupils shrank suddenly, and something almost forgotten emerged from his mind, which was almost numb due to torture by the surrounding environment.
"Yes, could it be——"
"He is not!"
Lucius shouted to stop Caesar's next words, as if it was something terrible. At this time, his scarred face was already a little distorted, and his breathing became more and more rapid.
"No, he is dead. He has been dead for ten thousand years."
Then, he put his hand on the hilt of the Blade of Lal and stared at the figure on the throne.