Chapter 403

"Taros?"

Although the voice around him kept reminding him, the prophet did not answer. Instead, he clenched his teeth, pulled the trigger and fired tracer bullets to illuminate the dark tunnel.

The digital runes on the helmet tactical retina gradually disappear and shrink every second. At this time, the rotating barrel of the assault gun begins to emit brighter red light under overheated pressure.

"Talos."

The voice was hoarse again.

"Don't go too far."

The assault gun let out a roar and then drooped slowly.

Talos wanted to refute, but he didn't know what to say - Cylon was right.

However, frustration remains.

Hunting has changed again.

Talos strode to a halt and let the stabilizer and servo system on his leg armor help him achieve this goal.

The gun barrel hissed in the cold air, and the deformed bodies were scattered at his feet. Cylon and makushen approached with heavy steps, and their joint friction and heavy footsteps filled the tunnel.

They all wore terminator armor, and the double bombs on their arms showed the defiled imperial eagle.

"I'm running out of ammunition."

Maku Shen whispered:

"It's time to put on our power armour again and act separately. The slaughter is pleasant, but they are trying to avoid us."

Talos nodded.

"I'll miss these armaments."

"I will, too."

Makushen answered with a smile.

"I can't remember how many such despicable aliens we killed. There were... There were so many of them at the last intersection."

Makushin used his double bomb gun to shoot at the destroyed bloody body.

"About ninety-four"

"These are just scum."

Cylon turned his long toothed helmet to makushin.

"But what about those screaming bitches? I haven't hit them yet."

"Neither did I."

Talos said with regret.

"The first one didn't hit. Only the weak died like worms. None of the howling banshees died."

Korosa, once a technical sergeant, walked at the end. His armor was washed clean by blood. His helmet was not the eighth Legion type, but a cruel curved corner appeared from the nose bridge of the panel.

"They are the priestesses of the alien god of war."

The prophet turned to look at him, and for a moment no one said a word.

"What did you just say?"

Corossa snorted.

"I have tortured the prisoners of the spirit family in the past. I probably know some."

"Whatever they are, we should go back to the third fierce claw."

"Talos."

Suddenly, a voice sounded in the communication channel,

The prophet hesitated for a moment. There was no name Rune flashing on his helmet display.

But the sound is familiar enough.

"Valere?"

"Brother, I'm in the ruins above. We must talk."

"No, please make this a dirty joke. I ordered you to leave for a reason, fool."

"Listen to me, Talos."

Then taros listened carefully to his brother's explanation, although Valle's explanation was hasty and fragmented.

It took Talos a while to get a rough idea of what he meant.

"Let's go to the third fierce claw."

He immediately ordered the other fierce claws.

"Valle, don't go down here. There are spirit families everywhere in the tunnel."

"Will you come back to the ground?"

Talos himself is not sure.

"Maybe, you just need to stay hidden now."

When the first and third claws finally met, the howling banshees came back.

The third fierce claw has been reduced to four soldiers, and their killed compatriots are left in the corridor.

This time, the midnight Lord is ready.

In the past few hours, they have chased their prey in the corridor and satisfied their hearts in a way never before, but now they have to face each other.

The aliens howled through the ranks of the eighth legion, only to see the blurred blade and the fluttering bun.

Talos heard a roar from one of his brothers.

"We are outnumbered!"

But the limbs and blades pressed on him made all the information meaningless. The two banshees in front of him screamed and raised their swords. Talos felt the cold touch wriggling in his muscles and slowing down his speed.

"Long live! King of the night!!!"

Talos uttered his own scream, a roar from three lungs and an enhanced respiratory system, and increased the intensity of the scream ten times with the help of a loudspeaker in his helmet.

The surviving night Lord heard the cry and then his heart beat faster.

The banshees' tactics have always been to deafen the crowd with howls and make the enemy soft before killing.

But now, now Talos uses it against these Screamers.

The three special-shaped swords broke at once. When the harmonious and savage scream reached the peak, the eyepiece of several banshees also cracked at the same time.

Then the Lord's howl suddenly disappeared at midnight. Talos suddenly waved his fist, hurt the first Banshee's head and broke her skull and shoulder bones.

The second man staggered away amid the shouts, but was immediately shot to pieces by assault guns.

Talos put down the empty assault gun, reached for his blaster gun, took a deep breath and was ready to scream again.

But suddenly, his throat seemed to be blocked by something.

On one side, Cylon punched the alien's stomach and broke her sternum and spine.

When her two weak legs fell on him, he lowered his head and stabbed each other with his helmet.

"Did you hear that?"

Everyone shouted, and Talos shut his mouth. He felt his heart accelerating uncontrollably.

"It's footsteps."

Talos said calmly, realizing that something was approaching.

"It's not footsteps. It's too fast."

Cylon tried to retort. He pushed hard twice before he moved his twisted body from his horns.

When he stood up straight again, his neck burst hard.

Then Cylon heard it.

Talos was right. It's footsteps.

"What's that?"

There was a rapid rhythm on the steps, gently hitting the stones, echoing in the corridor, as loud as the wind on the curve.

Talos stood on top of two slain spirit girls, blood dripping from his curled fingers.

Now, all the cries have stopped, and the only sound is the sound of footsteps.

"What is it?"

Celion repeated his question again.

Talos took a deep breath and answered with trembling.

"A storm of flesh and blood, a rain of blades, she walks in the void."

The prophet licked his teeth with his tongue and tasted the sour taste on his gums.

"Like a silent storm“