God Emperor's Angel of Death

Chapter 46

"Er..."

When soshyan pulled the sword out of morinit's chest, the Devourer let out a low roar.

Then he waved his chainsaw axe blindly, as if holding a torch to expel the darkness, but he didn't hit any target.

The cold and disgust from soshyan became stronger. Morinit felt that what stood in front of him was not a star warrior, but a small black hole, pulling his soul away from his body.

This feeling made him very frightened, because his soul only belonged to the blood god. If he could not return to the blood god seat, everything he fought for would be meaningless.

"Go away! Go away!"

Morinit screamed to drive the other party away, but it didn't work.

The silver gray silhouette flashed past him, and then the heavy serrated battle axe fell to the ground with a bang, followed by the hand holding the axe.

The Devourer's blood was as bright as molten gold on the metal floor, the fuel tank was still burning, and Mars was swept into the air by the wind, like groups of fireflies, which turned into scorched ashes when it fell back.

The Devourer pulled out the fighting dagger from the scabbard tied to his calf and tried to get up on his knees, but the tip of the sword was under his jaw.

"You failed. Your so-called God didn't bless you."

Soshyan gasped that the extraordinary touch had gone away from him, and the cold blood was freezing his heart.

But he could still stand and saw the soft part of the armor against the swallow's throat. The colorful color surrounded the silver blade, but he didn't touch the surface of the other party's neck armor at all.

"The emperor will spit on your soul and die."

That moment is coming. As long as you move your wrist gently and exert a little force, the head of the Devourer will roll down your shoulders.

Soshyan bit his teeth and shook his wrist.

But the blade didn't move. It quietly pressed against the throat of the Devourer, but it couldn't stab it.

There is no wheezing when the trachea and arteries are cut, and there is no tactile sensation when the head is separated from the neck.

Soshyan felt a lump of cold ice in his throat, and his limbs were as heavy as iron. He tried hard to control the arm holding the sword, but he was resisted, and the blade still refused to move half an inch.

As the body resisted him, a shivering numbness spread from the fingertips and climbed up the arm.

"Why is this time..."

A strong sense of dizziness hit soshyang's head. The muscles of his swordsman were locked, and the tight tendons pressed the bones.

The piercing cold flooded his senses, his vision tightened, and everything in front of him was compressed into a line.

The next second, the voice stopped, and a dizziness stole the balance of his legs.

"The blood god is on --"

It was a cold blow that refocused soshyan's world. Molinet suddenly burst up and directly hit his chest. The fighting dagger fell into his chest.

Molinet took off his helmet and took a big breath from his teeth. His broken face was like a painful puzzle.

Then he tried hard to let the dagger pierce each other's chest, and he almost did it.

The dagger penetrated the armor, black shell and rib plate, but before touching the heart, a strong chill climbed up molinet's shoulder along the dagger. He found that he lost control of his arm at once.

"Blood god! Blood god is opening his arms to me!"

The Devourer smiled wildly, fell back and drew out his dagger.

For a moment, the sticky blood intermittently shed silver gray armor. When he planned to stab the second time, soshyang's long sword had penetrated his head from top to bottom.

Accompanied by a gurgling gasp, the Devourer's almost split head spewed out the last mouthful of blood, polluted soshyan's eagle emblem on his chest, and then fell soft to the ground.

"Well..."

Soshyan loosened his sword, staggered back a few steps, covered his chest wound and knelt to the ground.

He was lucky that the other side's sword tip was so close to his heart. Although it would not be fatal even if he was stabbed, he had to cultivate for a while to fight.

"Commander Zhan!"

The recruits of the regiment immediately surrounded nervously, including the pharmacist nassin balitaem. He injected a large amount of drugs into soshyan's body at the first time, but he was startled when he touched soshyan's neck.

"Commander Zhan! Your temperature -"

Soshyang raised his hand and shook it, motioning him not to make a statement. Balita EM immediately closed his mouth and silently treated soshyang's wound.

When he noticed that the body temperature had begun to rise slowly, soshyan pressed the pharmacist's busy hand and said:

"I'm fine. Go and collect the genetic seeds of the dead soldiers."

"Yes."

Ballitaem stood up and began counting the casualties.

In the previous conflict, three combat brothers were killed, one seriously injured and three slightly injured.

The minor wounded were able to move by themselves, and the heavy wounded mainly lost an arm and had trauma to his head. Balita EM simply handled it, prepared to go back to the medical room of the spark for further treatment, and then turned to the five soldiers killed in action.

He knelt next to the body of a combat brother. His armor had been cut to pieces, but it still retained enough of its original appearance.

Balita EM turned the body over and the dead man's helmet thumped heavily on the floor.

Then he stretched out his hand and began to recover his brother's genetic seeds. First, the hand of the therapeutic guard vibrated, and then the built-in power made a chirping sound like insects. The electric saw and vibrating scalpel of the medical probe began to cut the damaged ceramics in the buzzing sound.

However, due to lack of experience, balitaem's progress was very slow. As soon as the pharmacist gritted his teeth, the probe resisted the armor that was impacted and melted together with high heat. After applying enough force, he finally cut the gap like a blackened eggshell.

Then he quickly inserted his fingers and stripped the soldier's neck.

The dead soldier's face was horribly pale, with dried blood smeared on it. His eyes stared round, as if he were glaring at the enemy until death.

For a while, the pharmacist didn't recognize the identity of the dead, but finally he remembered.

Moria.

Soldiers belonging to the first combat team were also recruits who underwent transformation at the same time as him.

The pharmacist closed his eyes for a moment to remember the death of his comrade in arms. Then he put his hand guard against the lower jaw of the body and started the recycler.

With a damp snap, a piece of pink gray flesh and blood bounced into the small glass bottle of the medical probe. Then the pharmacist checked the tissue with his naked eye, confirmed that it was still intact, and put it into the memory.

After returning to the spark, he had to further check the recovered genetic seeds and confirm that there was no problem before they could be preserved as reserve seeds of the regiment.

Close to him, he pierced the drill into the chest of the war dead, buried it deeply, and took out the second gene seed.

Although they are all recruits, they have been transformed for more than ten years, and the new gene seeds have matured.

After collecting the genetic seeds of the first war dead, ballitaem turned to the second. With the experience of the first, the progress of the second was much faster.

During this process, soshyan also basically recovered his temperature. After touching the wound and confirming that the blood had stopped, he called the technical sergeant to recover the equipment with a communicator.

This is, a bumpy red figure broke into his sight.