40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 106 9. Raging Flame (End)

Roar - similar to the howl of a wild beast, the scarlet face was distorted, the pupils shrank to the size of a needle, there was no reason left in the light blue eyes, pure anger and the desire to kill overwhelmed everything.

This impulse came so suddenly, Khalil frowned, wrote it down, and then got ready and began to dodge the attack like a sudden storm.

Angron had no armor or weapons, but he struck a torrent of blood with his bare hands. The wounds on his body were oozing blood, and the ones on his forearms were the most terrifying. The skin and flesh were turned over, and the wounds left on him by the silver vines of the personal guards were almost deep enough to see the bones. As long as he moves, he will bleed, turning him into a bloody man.

Each of his swings seemed chaotic, but each one contained terrifying power, a power that belonged exclusively to the original body. They should have been put to better use, but now they were being used by a mentally broken remnant of the past to vent his pain.

Khalil turned his head slightly, dodging one attack after another. He did not say anything to stop or persuade, he just frowned and sighed silently.

His opponent rushed towards him like crazy, waving his hands wildly in the air, trying to catch Khalil, but failed - failed as always.

He roared, rage surging in his voice, and at this moment, Khalil saw the cables behind his head begin to squirm.

"Blood——!" Angron roared and rushed towards him again, but Khalil had no way to avoid it. The underground cave was too small for the battle between the two giants.

His bloody fist hit Khalil's palm in the next second. Khalil raised his hands, grabbed Angron's hand, and stared into his eyes again, trying to find some possibility of regaining his senses, but Angron only seemed more and more furious. I feel extremely painful that I cannot use killing and violence.

His pupils were still about the size of a pinhead, and the whites of his eyes were full of scarlet, but there was no sense of reason in the remaining light blue. So Khalil sighed, and he kicked out his left leg violently, tripping Angron to the ground.

The bloody giant fell heavily to the ground, but quickly got up again. He let out a roar that was so broken that it was almost wailing, and rushed towards Khalil again.

There are no tactics, no skills, everything is hidden in its own power. The ground shook with his rage, and he himself suffered from it.

Amid the terrifying howls, there were two flashes of blue.

The next second, Khalil grabbed him in a way that Angron couldn't understand, and threw him to the ground again, this time much harder and firmer than before. The wounds on his body spurted out blood at that moment, dyeing his whole body a purely terrifying scarlet color again.

He lay on the ground, unable to get up due to the huge tremor, but he turned his head with the agility of a beast, staring at Khalil in the darkness, his hands dancing in the air, trying to touch him with his fingertips, And make him bleed.

Khalil sighed slowly.

Wild animals will cautiously escape back into the jungle because of their injuries, even ferocious beasts. It is the instinct of all living things to seek advantages and avoid disadvantages. Unless it is time to truly fight for their lives, few creatures will ignore everything and attack crazily.

But Angron was different. The reason he didn't care whether he was injured was not because his life was threatened and he needed to abandon everything to gain a chance of survival.

He did this simply because he didn't realize he was hurting at all. The mechanical implants located in the back of his head were tormenting him in a cruel way. Khalil didn't know the principle, but he could see the reason.

The reason is this rage, this traceless rage - Angron's rage cannot be traced, as if it is natural and unreasonable, but it is so hot, like lava deep in a volcano.

This is not human anger.

Khalil clenched his right fist little by little, and Angron's blood was dripping from his palm along the lines of his skin.

He walked towards Angron, and was not surprised to see Angron getting up from the ground in an instant, and rushing towards him quickly as if he had never been injured. A ferocious smile appeared on that broken face. He was clearly smiling, but with a look of confusion and ignorance, as if he didn't even know where he was.

He was bleeding, and without hesitation he grabbed Khalil's throat, trying to strangle him to death, or rip off his head, or strangle him to death and then rip off his head.

However, his victim just looked at him calmly, and raised his right fist with a sigh - but at this moment, Angron suddenly let go of his hand, as if he was electrocuted.

Khalil narrowed his eyes. At that moment, a golden flame flashed away, but it was not his handiwork.

Angron howled.

The sound collided and shattered between the rock walls, turning into an indescribable echo.

He began to back away, his fingers trembling—literally, every muscle in his body was trembling. Khalil stared at him, aware of the broken mind that was fighting the rage forced upon him by something in the back of his head.

Angron slowly knelt down and inserted his hands into the steel cable again. He trembled wildly, forced his muscles to work, gritted his teeth, and then let out a deep sigh.

After half a minute, or a century, he spoke.

His voice sounded like a piece of oozing flesh, or something that had nothing to do with blood. Hoarse, broken, and even more tragically, even when he was speaking, his voice sounded like a scream.

"Leave quickly," Angron said. He lowered his head and tremblingly grasped the source of his pain. "You have to leave"

Khalil didn't answer, so Angron roared - or rather screamed: "Go! Get out! Get away! I don't need your help!"

Khalil still didn't answer. He just stared. The time was stretched and turned into something under his control. He stared at Angron again, observing him with his unique psychic vision. In this vision, the cables behind his head were glowing.

Then he sighed.

"No, you need it," he said, approaching Angron again.

The latter roared angrily, but there was not only anger in it, but also fear.

He whimpered and roared, grabbing the steel cables, and kept retreating with tears in his eyes, trying to stay away from those who were approaching him. The name Oinomouth kept flashing through his mind, and was connected with some broken images.

Oinomouth, father.

Oinomouth, love.

Oinomouth, teacher.

Oinomouth, killed.

Oinomouth, died.

Then, a picture flashed before his eyes, a picture that he had long tried to forget, but was forced to remember by the Butcher's Nail.

It was Oinomouth, the shattered body of the man he considered his father, and he heard his own cries and the laughter of his slave masters.

"No—!" He howled miserably, his hands angrily thrust out of the steel cable, causing another burst of pain that made his skull expand.

He has reached the limit of his endurance. He had violated the Butcher's Nail too many times tonight. So they punished him with unprecedented intensity.

The scarlet curtain came back, turning everything into twisted monsters. Oinomouth's voice sounded in his ears, weird and sharp. He cried out Angron's name, asking him to kill everyone who appeared. The creature before his eyes.

The father demanded, and the son obeyed.

So Angron jumped up and laughed twistedly. He waved his hands and grabbed Khalil again. His needle-like pupils swept up and down crazily, seeming to be looking for a suitable way to die for Khalil. .

He - or rather, it even has a kind of expectation in its consciousness. It wants to see its prey struggle, so that more blood will flow.

But its prey didn't struggle.

Its prey simply cupped its cheek and wiped the blood from under its eyes, as if wiping away tears. It was stunned, unable to understand, and stayed in place for more than ten seconds.

During this period, the gnawing of nails began to become more severe, and even began to burst the blood vessels in his forehead, so the rage returned.

But it was completely unable to move. A force forced it to be trapped in place. Its fingers were trembling, but it couldn't exert force.

Its prey, on the other hand, calmly stared into its eyes and shook its head slowly.

"It's you again." It heard him speak softly, and there was a terrible emotion gathering in that soft voice.

After that, thunder came.

——

fire.

Angron opened his eyes in confusion. He just saw the flame, a golden flame. However, after he opened his eyes, the flame disappeared, leaving only a warm temperature.

There was darkness all around, and he felt as if he was floating, so he looked down and saw a river of blood. The smell of blood was so strong that it seemed like it could drown people. He looked at the river and wondered how he got here.

In fact, he didn't actually know where he was just now. Chaotic and fragmented parts filled his mind, making everything seem chaotic and disorderly.

This doubtful mood did not last long, because there was a roaring sound that flashed away, the temperature dissipated, and the pain and darkness came together in the next second. He couldn't help but wailed, and the will to die flashed in his heart. Pass.

He sank deep into the river bottom.

When he opened his eyes, blood and bones were pouring from all directions. The dead stared at him with their eyes wide open, and some even stretched out their hands to keep him here. Angron frowned in disgust. He held his breath and swam upstream, wanting to leave here and return to the place where the fire existed.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't bring himself to leave.

The river bound him, held him, and the billions of dead whispered in his ears, promising glory and such, but Angron cared not at all. He just wanted to go back, either to the place where the fire was, or to his brothers and sisters.

He doesn't like blood, and he doesn't like killing. He never has.

Until Oinomouth's voice came from his ears.

"Your favorite."

Angron's eyes widened, and he turned around and saw a face he was so familiar with that he couldn't be more familiar with it. Oinomouth, his father, smiled quietly at him in the river of blood.

"Oinomouth!" Angron opened his mouth and called, swallowing a large mouthful of blood, but he didn't care, he had to express his joy.

Angron swam over happily and tried to give his father a hug. However, at this moment, a familiar pain suddenly hit him. He screamed and swallowed more blood. The familiar scarlet color returned, but his father stood there and smiled approvingly at him.

"Yes." Oinomouth, who had scarlet eyes, smiled and nodded. "That's it, drink, my child, and become the embodiment of rage, the source of slaughter. You will enjoy supreme martial prowess, and you will make every world shout your name. You will make me proud, child. "

He spread his hands and asked with a smile: "Don't you want to make me proud?"

I think, Oinomouth, of course I do - but -

"No buts, kid."

The smile faded, and the sternness that had taught him martial arts returned.

"Don't you like the cheers from the stands when you kill your opponent? Think back, Angron, they cheered for you! When you swing your sword, they are happy, when you kill, they are ecstatic. Is this so? Isn't it bad? Violence is a desire rooted in the human heart. Everyone has a violent factor. You just used a legal method to release it for them. You are their hero, Angron, you are not a slave gladiator. "

The dead Oinomouth laughed silently: "And you will also become my hero."

Angron looked at him in confusion, swallowing the blood in the river. Oinomouth looked at him with joy, his approval was beyond words and there was no need to express it.

So Angron smiled, and a kind of pride flashed through his chaotic mind - a child always wants to make his father proud.

Everything seems to be a foregone conclusion.

The face of 'Oinomaus' began to become more and more ferocious, and his smile almost became a terrifying expectation.

He twitched his fingers nervously, and the sound of people's cheers and the clash of swords could be heard in Angron's ears. He gradually closed his eyes, like a drowning man who stopped struggling and lost all his strength. He felt peaceful and peaceful.

Until the thunder started.

Angron woke up suddenly, and 'Oinomoth' howled in rage.

The skin belonging to the old gladiator was turned over. Brass, spiked armor replaced skin and muscle. Scarlet eyes that seemed to be burning with fire replaced the human eyes.

He stood there, and his mere appearance made Angron almost scream. His reason could not bear His arrival, and He did not pay attention to his emotions. He just roared and stretched out his right hand, stirring the river of blood. Trying to catch Angron.

Then the thunder came.

A giant appeared in front of Angron.

He was covered with golden flames, and his eyes were filled with brilliant blue light.

Then he sneered.

"Get out," he said softly. "Go back to where you belong."

The next second, the blood river suddenly disappeared.

ok, super updated, no lags or leaks, extra updates and the climax was finished in one go.

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