Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

Three strikes.

In the first blow, Angron smashed the chain sword of the traitor in front of him with a heavy blow from top to bottom, and the lightning ax that remained unabated also cut off half of the traitor's right hand.

For the second blow, he added a headbutt. The ferocious and majestic force could have directly smashed his head. But Angron withdrew his strength, he did not want to let the traitor die like this.

The headbutt broke his alien helmet, and Angron heard the sound of broken cartilage, and blood gushes out of his helmet like a fountain. The traitor took a few steps back, as if he had not yet understood what happened.

The third blow was also the most fatal blow - he raised the lightning ax high, and Angron cut the traitor in half alive with a grin.

All of this happened within three seconds.

This was not over yet, he jumped up high. The thick red cloak seemed to turn into the wings of some kind of creature, helping him stay in the air for a long time - so long that his battle ax began to emit golden lightning, destructive power

Falling from the sky, they accurately and ruthlessly electrocuted dozens of traitors into cokes.

"Who is that warrior?!"

During the break in the battle, Insel asked loudly on the communication channel.

No one answered, only the chaplain of the war group was still shouting fervently: "Slaughter all enemies of mankind! Kill them!" Not only that, the roar of the Cadian political commissar also echoed his words from behind. The two seemed to be

As if competing with each other to see who has the loudest voice, they kept driving their respective soldiers to fight more feverishly.

It goes against their original responsibilities. You know, the political commissar and the chaplain were originally responsible for holding back the overly fanatical soldiers, so that they would not all die in a wave of charges due to the surge of blood...

But now, these two people couldn't wait to rush into the crowd and kill each other.

Especially the priest. With a bolter in one hand and a chainsword in the other, he was pouring down rain of death while cursing the traitors. In between these two things, he could even shout out his memorized daily routine on the communication channel.

Think about it.

After a few minutes, his guard captain came over and calmly gave his guess: "Maybe, it's a brother of the Black Templar..."

"No, it's not like that. His armor is too simple and doesn't have their style. Moreover, his weapon..."

Yinsel pondered for a while and decided to put this matter aside for now.

Now is not the time to dwell on these things. There is only one most important thing at the moment: kill all the traitors without leaving a trace.

However, they all more or less ignored Angron's height - the average Astartes are only about two meters four, and some of them can grow to more than three meters tall. But Angron is worthy of that body.

The armor is a full four meters high, and the way he charges is hard not to think of a tank.

"That weapon should be some ancient sacred relic. It's really a terrifying weapon."

There was exclamation in the voice of the Guard Captain. The technological development within the empire is not very satisfactory after ten thousand years of development, but the Astartes can still possess the best of them - including

Some great weapons passed down from ancient history.

They have many previous owners, all of whom were great heroes. Those who are qualified to own such weapons must not be unknown.

His guess was almost certain that it was indeed a sacred and terrifying weapon, but it was not a relic.

"Keep fighting, Malish. The traitors still have room to breathe." There was obvious cruelty and determination in Inser's voice.

"I want to make the last bit of air in their lungs disappear, destroy their will and body, and strip away their last hope of survival..."

"I obey your will, Chapter Master."

There was a cruel smile in Malish's cold voice after being treated by the breathing grille. At this moment, a Chaos traitor jumped out from their side, trying to sneak attack them with the bolt gun in his hand.

The bullet was very accurate, heading straight for Inser's helmet eyepiece. But Malish's speed was unimaginable. He stood firmly beside the Chapter Leader, using his shoulder armor to

The despicable bullet was blocked. The kinetic energy of the bolter shook the guard captain's body.

Then, as if nothing was wrong, he roared angrily, with a voice that made the steel beam above his head tremble: "You despicable rat——!"

The duty of the Guard Captain is to protect the Chapter Master. They are usually the most experienced veterans in the Chapter. Each of them is a master who can fight one against ten, and all of them have served for more than five hundred years. Malish cannot tolerate this.

The chapter leader encountered an assassination situation under his nose. He suddenly threw the power sword in his hand, so fast that the traitor could not even dodge.

A sword pierced the chest - Malish ran away, and in the blink of an eye he was in front of the traitors. The vitality of the Astartes was already tough, and the traitors who fell to Chaos were even more strengthened. At this time, he was

Nailed to the ground, he was struggling to stand up. Unfortunately, Malish would not give him this chance.

He held the power sword cruelly, raised it from bottom to top, and raised it suddenly.

Blood splattered and his anger subsided a little. Insel said calmly on the communication channel: "That's enough, Malish."

He bowed slightly to avoid enemy fire and looked for his next target on the battlefield: "There is no need to be filled with anger over their corpses. We cannot be what the enemy wants us to be."

"Well said."

A hoarse voice interrupted their conversation. Malish looked up and found that it was the strange warrior. The armor that was cast in one piece was covered with blood, but there was not a single scratch. He stepped forward

Heavy footsteps approached Inser, and Malish immediately returned to his Chapter Master.

Seeing this situation, the soldier stopped.

His hoarse laughter came from the breathing grille: "Yes, you are very qualified."

"Your Excellency is...?"

"It doesn't matter who I am," the soldier said lightly. "What matters is whether you and your soldiers are willing to participate in another war."

"If the war is worth it, we will go there." Insel replied calmly.

The soldier laughed hoarsely again, and the laughter was like low thunder. Only then did Inser and his guard captain realize how tall this man was—he was even much taller than them!

They heard the warrior say: "I'm not asking a question, Chapter Master. And it's not a question of whether it's worth it... You're already in the middle of a war."

"A war that is about to end."

"No."

The warrior denied his words, and Inser patiently waited for the next step.

"It's not up to you, Chapter Master, to decide whether this war will end or not. It's not up to me either."

The warrior who was talking suddenly turned around and slashed, easily killing a traitor who was lurking next to them. Insel let go of his right hand on the trigger and asked seemingly calmly: "What do you mean, sir?"

"Let's leave asking questions after the battle is over..."

This enigmatic warrior walked away with heavy steps. He roared and charged in another direction, causing the earth to tremble.

The filthy factory on the lower levels of the hive was hosting so many Astartes for the first time, and Insel doubted whether it could withstand such damage. Once it collapsed, the resulting chain reaction could lead to the destruction of the second level.

The building also fell to the ground floor, and by then, they would have to face a more serious threat than the traitors.

But the factory never collapsed. The buildings in Bandar's hive were never known for their sturdiness. No hive city could ever be famous for its sturdy buildings.

However, after enduring such fierce firepower, explosions, Astartes charges, and various battles, this old factory, chosen as the location for the final battle, still stood strong.

Just like the people on Bandar.

Just like the subjects of the empire.

Insel closed his eyes and opened them again. His golden eyes seemed to be burning with flames, and the Chapter Master gently exhaled. On his power armor passed down from generation to generation, the Emperor's Prayer on his right shoulder seemed to be

It was emitting light, illuminating the dim interior of the factory.

For the first time in his life, Inser took over the role of Chaplain within the Chapter.

He roared: "For the Emperor!"

----------------------------------------

You can choose when the war starts, but it's hard to say when it will end. In the war that spreads across the galaxy, people can sacrifice their lives to influence the direction of the war, but they can never really choose how it ends.

Just like Lucius felt at this moment, he never thought that he would end up in this way.

His intestines would turn green at this moment - if he still had that thing.

In the long-term torture of his body, he abandoned most of the unnecessary organs, or modified and tortured them to obtain a stronger stimulating experience.

Some of them were eaten by Lucius himself at some point due to his morbid pursuits, and some of them were used by him for other purposes. You don't want to know what he did with all of them.

If I had to describe it, I can only use four words to describe his behavior: appalling.

But, believe me, for followers of Slaanesh, this is just one of the more common sensory stimulations among tens of millions.

Lucius is now no different from a demon. Because of this, he can still survive in a twisted posture even though he lacks so many organs.

Not only that, he can also continue to spread the temptation and darkness from his master in the galaxy. Unfortunately, his mission seems to end today.

Aboard the Deep Destruction.

The interior style of the Mechanical Dragon is in the same vein as that of the Revenge, and is equally bright. Without those religious decoration styles, it was still difficult for Lictor to adapt to it for a while. But this was not the purpose of his coming here - the decorations on the Deep Destruction

On the ground floor, in a small temporary cell.

Lucius, Lucius the Immortal. The champion of Slaanesh, the Body Snatcher, a monster that will be reborn on the person who kills him every time he dies. He is hanging in the air in a way that ordinary people can never imagine.

. The black beam of light wrapped him tightly, and every inch of his flesh and blood was evenly separated and arranged neatly.

Lictor was even able to observe the strange traces between his mutated bones. The evil things in the subspace had left indelible traces on him. Even his power remained deep in the bone marrow.

Falling so deeply... is also rare. If he had not truly fallen into chaos, he would not have suffered such infiltration. Lictor was even more convinced of his judgment - this is a natural person.

Scum, his fall was inevitable, and he did not follow his genetic father like others.

Some people fall because of blind obedience, but Lucius is definitely not among them.

He was very noisy and kept shouting profanities. It seemed that he wanted to anger the shield captain and make him kill him. Liktor must admit that he was tortured by this bastard's words that had no limit.

This was enough, so the Shield Guard Captain adopted a compromise approach.

He did not torture this pervert, after all, he took pleasure in pain - so Lictor just inserted two knives between his vocal cords, so that he could not vibrate his vocal cords to make a sound, let alone speak.

Lucius looked at the Imperial Guard standing in front of him with resentful eyes, and his forked tongue kept flying in the air. Despite this, the segments of his body made the scene seem weird, terrifying and funny.

Until a golden light lit up in the room, Lictor lowered his head slightly to show his respect.

But Lucius's eyes widened.

As if he sensed something, a thunderous sound struck his eardrums and collided wantonly in his brain. Then, he smelled the breath of 'sunshine'.

Lucius's memory was suddenly pulled back to the time when he was still a mortal. At that time, he was not an Astartes, nor was he the monster he is now. At that time, he was just a human on Chemos.

A young aristocratic boy. He had smelled this smell more than once, on his bed that had just been dried and made by a maid.

But this was much more intense, not the smell of burnt mites, but the smell of his own body and even soul being burned.

Lucius howled miserably, and the huge pain that exceeded his understanding of pain instantly knocked him down - knocking down a champion of Slaanesh who was obsessed with pain. It even made him scream unacceptably.

In a daze, he saw a pair of eyes that seemed to be burning.

Golden.

Like two living suns.

"No--!"

The thing named Lucius let out the last scream of his existence in the world, and his evenly arranged flesh in the air was compressed in a burst of golden light. A tooth-breaking gurgling sound came, Liktor

He tried his best to stop himself from looking up at the scene. Until a minute later, a small black ball fell to the ground.

Lictor heard He Shenyan's voice: "...Take it, Lictor. When the time is right, it will bring us considerable benefits."

This was an act of blasphemy. The Shield Captain should have asked something. But he said nothing and just picked up the ball.