Chapter 265

Marcus Agnes luclesio could feel death touching every inch of his skin, which made him feel pain - deep into the bone marrow.

Heretics are doing something in this church, reflecting a deep shadow, making sharp voices echo in sub space, like screams.

Since Marcus set foot in valledo, this feeling has never stopped, like the shadow of death.

Like that damn bird.

It was standing there, its curved claws clutching the edge of the girder.

The bird just stood there, motionless, never blinking, never crowing, never tidying her feathers. It just stood there and stared at Marcus.

On the column below its foothold, there is a sign smeared with blood. The pungent smell passes through the thick smell of smoke and passes into everyone's nose.

It's a spiral around the narrow pupil, a sign of heresy.

The spiral wound perfectly, which made Marcus a little distracted and felt a burst of breathing difficulty.

The person who drew this sign fell under this column and his body was extremely broken. He could only vaguely see the national priest robe and a large number of feather decorations he wore during his lifetime, and his skin was tattooed with colorful metallic luster.

The heretic is the bishop of the church and one of the heretics pursued by Marcus. Before the riots, he had identified several important lists and planned to carry out secret arrest.

But the subsequent rebellion interrupted Marcus's plan. The bishop hid in the shadow. He thought he was perfectly hidden, but he was wrong.

Heresy has nowhere to hide in front of the judge.

Because Marcus doesn't need footprints, vision or even sound to hunt, he can pursue the taste of heresy in the dark and come to the column where he draws signs.

And destroyed him.

Only a few people know that Marcus is not only a judge, but also a psychic, a psychic, which is also his last mace.

But now, looking at the sign of heresy, he unconsciously clenched the family sword in his hand, and the psionic crystal at the top of the hilt hummed.

Suddenly, the pillar in front of him began to break, and fragments splashed out, floating in the air around Marcus with other objects, including tools, rivets, screws, empty cartridge cases, broken bones

These objects floated around the judge, the ground trembled under his feet, and the pipes bent and twisted overhead.

He tasted the smell of blood, which splashed on Marcus's lips. It was the blood on the pillar, the blood drawing heretical symbols.

That eye, it never blinks, just like the bird.

"Marcus."

A voice sounded, forcing Marcus to look away from the bird.

One of his entourage, Verne, a retired Star Army veteran, was standing on his right, with a laser gun in his hand but not raised.

Not far away, another of his entourage, calthas, a deathly assassin, was watching him.

Although his face was hidden under the pale skeleton mask, Marcus could feel the vigilant and murderous eyes of the Death Cult assassin.

The accident didn't happen to him for the first time. Danger was waiting for him.

Losing control of psionics is a problem that every psionic faces.

And the ending is often very bad.

Marcus wanted to speak, but found himself unable to speak, as if the blood on his lips sealed his mouth.

Something wound around him like a storm.

The arc flashed over his finely crafted breastplate, but Verne did not flinch.

"Control."

The meaning carried in the veteran's words was very clear. His gun didn't move, and the muzzle was round and black, just like the bloody eye and the bird's eye.

"Control."

Malthus repeated in a low voice.

More blood poured into Marcus's mouth, as if to drown him.

Marcus blinked, constantly recalled the trials he had received in the past, and enriched his heart with firm faith.

After a burst of heat, behind his eyes, she saw it - a huge tree made of human tissue standing in the center of the huge courtyard. Its roots tightly wrapped the ground under its feet like bird claws, and its bone white crown extended upward and touched the thunderstorm filled sky.

In the sky, a silver gray falcon is fighting with the giant snake looming in the clouds. Its song shocked the world.

This is an omen, or a harbinger.

After that, Marcus felt less pain,

"Don't worry."

He was finally able to speak.

"I won't break down."

The objects around him fell to the ground. It sounded like a storm.

After a few deep breaths, Marcus rubbed the blood off his face with his hand, leaving a red trace.

"I see. The enemy is here, in the dark."

When Marcus returned to normal, several others were relieved, and Verne took the opportunity to light a cigarette.

"Call the fleet?"

"I'm afraid it's hard. Sub space communication has been shrouded in the shape of dark projection, and everything is changing."

Although the words were very clear, Marcus knew that few people understood at the scene, which was more like a cold joke from the bird.

He had seen the bird for months, and it had followed him since he walked on the nest street of the warning star.

But as long as he could see the creature, he never mentioned the bird to anyone, especially Verne.

It would make him nervous and think it was a stupid invitation to die.

Only Marcus himself knew that this was just a mysterious sub space creature, just like all the moments in his life, just another test.

And he will never collapse.

The veteran went to the Bishop's broken body. After a while, he kicked over the oil lamp on one side. Suddenly, the leaked holy oil ignited the fire and swallowed the debris

"Well, now it's up to him to respond to his previous stupidity."

The Death Cult assassin leaning against the pillar nodded,

"We all will, in the midst of death."

Although accustomed to the pessimism of the other party, Verne shook his head this time.

"Then death must catch me first."

These words made Marcus laugh so loudly that he coughed violently.

"That death must be very lucky. If you want to catch a prick like you."

Verne smiled, but it was a real skin smile.

They all feel pain because of the fatigue of fighting. Since they came to this planet, they have pulled the trigger almost every second and waved the battle knife every minute.

Every time they destroy the enemy, the pain increases, but the pain does not prevent them from continuing to fight, waving knives, shooting and killing.

Marcus glanced at the body on the ground again. After confirming that the other party had been completely destroyed, he took out a small encrypted data board and began to record.