Whoosh—whoosh!!
The shrill energy beams tore through the air, coming from all directions. The assault troopers, who had fallen briefly into a stunned daze, finally regained their senses and realized that the Blood Raven squad leader was locked in a fierce duel with a Sith apprentice, rendering him momentarily immobile.
Seizing this opportunity, they scrambled to raise their energy weapons and concentrate a fierce barrage on the squad leader. Scorching energy beams rained down like bullets, attempting to completely crush the terrifying warrior before their eyes.
Buzz~! Buzz~!
The Titanium-class armor of the squad leader reacted instantly, its automatically deployed energy shield forming a barrier that deflected the majority of the incoming energy rounds. The shield's surface rippled like water disturbed by a stone.
Even though the shield temporarily held back the attack, the squad leader's fury was ignited. His eyes burned with intensity as he fixed his gaze through his visor on the Sith apprentice before him. In an explosive burst, he unleashed even greater power; the plasma field around his power sword emitted a harsh, resonant hum, and the blade descended upon the Sith apprentice with crushing force.
Crack—smack—!
The clash between the plasma field and the kyber crystal energy beams grew increasingly violent. In the instant their energies intermingled, dazzling sparks erupted as if two stars had collided, releasing a destructive brilliance that even raised the ambient temperature dramatically.
Although the Sith apprentice, bolstered temporarily by the Force, managed to barely withstand the onslaught, his arms trembled violently under the immense pressure and beads of cold sweat formed on his brow.
In that moment, the Sith apprentice—his skin pallid and his cheekbones pronounced—appeared even more monstrous as his already contorted features twisted with exertion. The Force had temporarily amplified his strength, but in close combat, especially in raw power contests, he was no match for an Astartes veteran.
"Ah!!"
The Sith apprentice let out a cry of anger and frustration; his eyes, aglow with a blood-red light from the surge of the Force, betrayed his desperation. At the brink of death, he managed to push his limits, and his tightly gripped lightsaber veered slightly away, barely deflecting the squad leader's lethal strike.
That fleeting shift was his only chance to survive.
Not daring to take any risks, the Sith apprentice rolled to his left in a desperate dodge as the blade swept by. His movement was swift yet clumsy, his black robe trailing a fleeting shadow as he scrambled to evade.
But as he tumbled, the squad leader's power sword followed his momentum; the blade's plasma field emitted a low, ominous hum, as if whispering the reaper's decree.
Buzz—!!!
The sword nearly grazed the Sith apprentice's back; the intense heat of the energy field instantly scorched his robe and left a searing burn across his pale skin.
"Ugh!"
The Sith apprentice grunted, fighting through the pain as he desperately created distance, attempting to regain his stance. His breathing became rapid and disordered, and a flash of terror crossed his eyes as he fully realized the immense gap between him and the Astartes veteran.
Though he managed to avoid being cleaved in two by the power sword, the brief exchange made it abundantly clear that engaging in close combat with such a warrior was tantamount to signing his own death warrant.
Once clear of the lethal reach, the Sith apprentice did not hesitate; he quickly channeled the Force, driving his legs with sudden power, and leaped like a specter toward the second-level deck.
His black robe fluttered wildly in the air, reminiscent of a bat slicing through the dim space.
Thump, thump!
After landing firmly on the second-level deck, the Sith apprentice managed to put enough distance between himself and the squad leader.
His chest heaved as his breathing remained erratic, and more cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Though he had temporarily escaped immediate danger, a lingering dread still gripped his heart.
After regaining a measure of composure, a cunning glint flashed in his eyes. He realized that with their overwhelming numbers, there was no need to engage these terrifying warriors hand-to-hand.
The advantage of the Force lay in its capacity for remote control and suppression rather than close combat; as long as they kept their distance, they could fully exploit its power to completely restrain the Astartes veterans.
"All of you, fall back and keep your distance!"
The Sith apprentice's voice, resonant with the echo of the Force, reached his fellow apprentices with an urgent command. "Do not engage in melee! Use the Force to suppress their movements, and let the assault troopers concentrate their fire!"
Hearing this, the other Sith apprentices quickly obeyed, rapidly creating distance from the Blood Raven veterans with whom they had been dueling. Their figures flitted quickly across the dim docking bay, their black robes trailing like ghostly apparitions through the darkness.
Before long, several of the Sith apprentices regrouped on the second-level deck, raising their hands as if to channel the Force.
An invisible pressure began to fill the air, resembling a gigantic hand slowly pressing down on the Blood Raven veterans below.
Meanwhile, the remaining assault troopers received the order and raised their energy weapons, aiming at the Blood Raven veterans now under the oppressive sway of the Force.
"Fire!" The Sith apprentice commanded coldly, his tone laced with lethal intent.
Whoosh—whoosh—!!
Dense energy beams once again rained down like a torrential storm, streaking toward the Blood Raven veterans.
At that moment, those veterans, suppressed by the Force, became like "living targets," their movements sluggish and their ability to evade severely compromised.
Their energy shields fluctuated violently under the sustained onslaught, with the shield readings plummeting as if on the verge of collapse.
Observing this, the Sith apprentice who had been dueling with the squad leader couldn't help but display a trace of smug satisfaction.
If they could maintain this tactical advantage, victory would eventually be theirs, and they would complete their mission flawlessly—perhaps even capturing some Astartes for study and earning the Emperor's favor.
However, before the Sith apprentice's grim, sneering smile could fully form, it froze abruptly on his face—
Clang—crackle—!!!
A burst of jarring metallic friction erupted like thunder, instantly shattering the precarious balance in the docking bay.
Two dedicated Raven-class gunships, like rampaging beasts, burst through the plasma valves and crashed headlong into the docking bay.
Their landing gears scraped fiercely against the metal deck, sending out brilliant sparks as if numerous fire dragons were rampaging through the darkness.
The roar of the gunships' engines was deafening, and the cold metallic sheen of their hulls flashed under the lights.
Before the gunships could come to a complete halt, one of them abruptly swung open its forward hatch, like a giant gaping maw, disgorging a colossal figure that took one's breath away.
Thud, thud!!
The "giant" leaped from the gunship, landing with a heavy, echoing impact on the metal deck.
The entire docking bay seemed to tremble violently at the moment of his landing, with the floor sagging slightly under the immense force.
He was far larger than any of the Blood Raven veterans; his power armor was inscribed with Chinese characters, and a blood-red robe billowed behind him like a flag of death, heralding the arrival of doom.
The Sith apprentices' eyes widened in terror, their expressions of smug satisfaction instantly replaced by sheer horror.
They felt an unprecedented fear, their very breathing growing labored in the presence of this "giant."
Their Force senses frantically warned them that the enemy before them was far more terrifying than the Blood Raven veterans they had faced earlier.
"What—what is this…?" The voice of one Sith apprentice trembled, barely able to form a complete sentence.
The giant slowly lifted his head; beneath his armored visor, his gaze was as cold and unfathomable as an abyss.
This "giant" arriving in the docking bay was none other than one of the revered yet fearsome genetic originals of the main universe's Empire—a creator and undisputed leader of the Midnight Lord's legion.
Though he was venerated by the Empire's populace, his image was indelibly linked with cold cruelty and terrifying ruthlessness.
His very presence was like a double-edged sword—both a guardian of the Empire and a nightmare that haunted the enemy.
His specialized power armor was a perfect match for his fearsome reputation.
The ghostly blue plating was intricately decorated with complex Chinese inscriptions and reliefs, each line seemingly recounting endless slaughter and conquest.
His shoulder pauldrons and the trophies hanging from his waist—a collection of various alien skulls, meticulously processed to gleam with a chilling metallic luster—spoke silently of his authority and merciless brutality.
The empty, cavernous eye sockets of these skulls appeared to "stare" at anyone who dared meet his gaze, sending shivers down the spine.
His power armor was not only exquisitely crafted but also infused with potent technological and psychic energies.
Every detail was meticulously designed to offer unmatched protection while allowing supreme agility in battle.
And Curze himself, though his eyes were hidden behind his helmet, exuded a cold, piercing gaze that seemed to cut through all disguises and strike directly at the soul of his enemy.
At the moment of Curze's arrival, the entire atmosphere in the docking bay froze.
Whether assault trooper or Sith apprentice, all were struck dumb by his terrifying aura, their breaths suddenly measured and cautious.
The Blood Raven veterans, however, showed a hint of respect and vigilance.
They knew that the arrival of this genetic original would irrevocably alter the course of the battle—and they also understood that the inner regions of the Death Star were about to truly run red with blood.
At that very moment, sixty members of the Midnight Lord's Glory Guard, clad in exclusive Terminator armor known as the Black Armor Guard, stormed out from the gunship hangar. Their helmet visors glowed a sinister scarlet, resembling the eyes of demons.
Clang—clang, clang-clang—!
No sooner had the Black Armor Guards landed than they sprang into action.
Their gauntlets, equipped with parallel explosive spike guns, and the rotating spike cannons mounted on the mechanical arms of their jetpacks, roared thunderously.
A dense and searing barrage instantly enveloped the already stunned assault troopers.
High-explosive 0.75cal and 1.0cal spike rounds detonated amidst the crowd, unleashing torrents of gore.
The metal deck was riddled with holes, and severed limbs and shattered armor flew everywhere.
Every explosion of a spike round was accompanied by the agonized screams of the assault troopers and scenes of blood and flesh splattering; even those who had attempted to surrender did not escape unscathed.
The Black Armor Guards were ruthless and showed no mercy, leaving no path for escape.
Their attacks were precise and efficient; any target caught in their sights was destined for a dead end.
The docking bay was instantly transformed into a living hell—a symphony of wails and explosions composing a dirge of death.
Yet, surprisingly, these sixty Black Armor Guards did not turn their attention toward the Sith apprentices.
They appeared to deliberately avoid them, merely casting cold, indifferent glances before resuming their focused slaughter of the assault troopers.
This deliberate restraint was clearly intended to leave the Sith apprentices for their "father" to handle personally.
The Black Armor Guards knew well that Curze desired not only victory but the complete annihilation of the enemy—and the Sith apprentices were the perfect prey.
!!!
Witnessing this, the Sith apprentice who had been dueling with the squad leader trembled violently, as though plunging into an icy tomb; an overwhelming terror surged from his spine to the top of his head.
Even so, he struggled to maintain consciousness, desperately trying to break free from the crushing pressure.
Without the need for words, his fellow apprentices quickly reached a tacit consensus.
Almost simultaneously, the Force suppression that had been applied to the six Blood Raven veterans abruptly shifted onto Curze.
The Force seemed to form an invisible, gigantic net, attempting to bind this genetic original tightly—just as it had once subdued the Astartes veterans.
Yet this time, the Force seemed to dissolve like water down a drain, failing to produce even the slightest ripple.
Curze's steps remained steady and deliberate; the very Force that could suppress an Astartes veteran was to him as gentle as a caress.
His specialized armor did not even automatically deploy its energy shield, as if he deemed the surrounding Force inconsequential to merit any defensive measures.
Thud, thud—
Each of his steps struck like a heavy hammer against the hearts of the Sith apprentices, deepening their dread.
A low, mirthless laugh emanated from beneath his helmet—a hoarse, mocking sound tinged with derision.
"Oh? It appears you wish to continue this little game."
His gaze swept over the Sith apprentices attempting to use the Force to restrain him; in his blood-red visors, a cold light flickered. "Very well, then I shall indulge you."
In the next moment, in the eyes of the Sith apprentices, the entire docking bay seemed to collapse rapidly, the surroundings warping into an endless "abyss."
Darkness surged like a tidal wave, devouring all light and hope, leaving nothing but the towering silhouette of Curze, barely discernible in the gloom.
Their Force sensing fell utterly silent—they were incapable of tracking Curze's precise movements.
To the few surviving assault troopers, everything happened so quickly they could not clearly see what transpired.
All they heard were a series of bone-chilling tearing sounds and the brittle snaps of breaking bones, followed by the sight of the Sith apprentices' bodies being violently torn asunder like fragile dolls.
Blood and entrails splattered everywhere; the last Sith apprentice did not even manage to let out a final cry before Curze, in an act of unspeakable cruelty, flayed and dismembered him, reducing him to a mangled "strip of flesh" that collapsed lifelessly to the ground.
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I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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