Chapter 773

"Long live Horus!"

A traitor roared, leaned back, tightened his waist, raised his chain saw axe high, and then fell down.

Kalistalus held up his sword, and the staggered sharp teeth of the chain saw axe launched a meaningless confrontation with the holy blade of vitalus, which aroused a burst of passionate sparks and smoke.

The traitor, the son of Horus, was still dying. Calistarius poured more psionics into the blade of his weapon vitalus and locked the chain saw axe in place.

The traitor stepped back, roared and dragged his weapon - this action was immediately captured by the think tank. He rushed forward and waved his long sword.

In an instant, a big head flew up.

Calistarius loosened his grip on the chainsaw axe, took a half step back and watched the burning body of the traitor fall to the ground.

Ding Ding————

As the bell rang, callistolius followed his inner instinct and rushed to the broken door he had previously seen.

The next moment, he suddenly flashed into the command deck, and the whole person stopped because of this sudden change.

A huge pit more than 50 meters deep was opened on the deck, and the walls were covered with leaping sparks and light smoke of different colors.

Calistarus shook out the wings of the phantom born behind him and jumped into the pit.

He galloped out from the end of the tunnel, and vitalus was ready to attack the heretical evil that had been waiting for a long time: vitalus's sword edge cut all the enemies in front of him into scrap iron and broken meat with the fury of the enemy

The crimson, which symbolizes the ninth legion, fought with the green, which represents the 16th legion, in every inch of space. The bridge of the soul of revenge seemed to tear the time curtain woven by many realities.

The brave soldiers in red armor waved chain saws and explosives in their hands and rolled up a bloody killing hurricane among the traitors under Horus - they are Holy Blood Angels.

At the same time, he is also his noble descendant.

Saint Gilles, he heard the soldiers call themselves so.

Who's callistolius?

But it doesn't matter anymore.

"For the emperor!"

He roared and leaped over the chaotic battlefield under his feet, and the noble red gold armor shone with sacred light: all attacks could not hurt him, and all filth could not defile him - the despicable traitors had no way to escape in front of him.

"Callistolius!"

The familiar voice behind him drew him over: it was a familiar person, a familiar armor.

Dante is killing among the traitors, struggling to squeeze in the direction of calistarus - the lens in the eye socket of his helmet flashes a pale blue arc, and his voice is hoarse.

"Callistolius!"

Who the hell is callistolius?

Who's Dante?

He stumbled and moved slowly to the other end of the stage.

"I am..."

He muttered to himself and waved his sword with a deadly chop.

The terrible truth shook his heart: for a moment, he realized that he was incarnated as St. Gilles.

"I'm lost?"

"No!"

He shouted loudly, his tone was filled with rage, and began to brutally kill the traitors in front of him. He cut all their burly chests with a sword blade, and the splashing hot blood soaked the ancient stage under his feet.

"It's impossible!"

The think tank was impatient and looked around for an existing figure. He turned his head hard, roared and cursed the reality: how could he usher in his end in this dilapidated and empty ruins like this!?

Where's Horus?

Where's Horus!

Rage soared, everything in front of him disappeared, and the bridge of the flagship of Horus, the soul of revenge, filled his vision.

This huge ship overturned the glorious Dynasty, leaving only a fragmented and decaying Empire and glorious memories of the past behind. The dark madness ignited the anger of resentment in the depths of the soul: the sub space spiritual power filled in the chest was boiling fiercely and ruthlessly boiling every inch of the veins in the limbs and bones.

Then, two terrible dead lights surged out of his eyes, melted through the ship with irresistible power, and ignited a continuous fire in the battlefield.

The soldiers in the fierce battle exploded with the walls of the ship, and were melted into orange red iron slag by the crimson hot wind like the roaring sea.

Burn heaven and earth and destroy everything——

This is the last choice left to him in the world!

Galaxy betrayed him!

He shouldn't have suffered such a fate!

The blood of the burning psionics in the brain of the think tank turns red to reach the critical pale, and turns everything around into powder.

"Callistolius!"

The familiar and strange name called back his subtle mind. He suddenly realized that both traitors and Holy Blood Angels collapsed in the rubble with a small wisp of blue and blue ghost fire.

Although most of them are trying hard to clean up the ruins covering their bodies, several angels and traitors have no voice anymore: their limbs and trunks are torn apart by great force, and their internal organs are broken and gouged out by flattened and twisted ceramic steel armor pieces, emitting burnt meat fragrance.

A presence in a golden streamer fell from the sky, San guillerno. He knew its name.

"Don't give in! Don't get lost! You must not fall into the abyss! Think about the consequences!"

The think tank shook its head dully, full of Venus.

But the counterattack of black rage also intensified, and the memory ten thousand years ago eroded the reality in his eyes again - the illusion of the soul of revenge is the death knell symbolizing the end of the holy blood children.

Suddenly, a cold logic flowed into the turbid mind of the think tank, trying to break through the gloomy noise and mania in all directions.

He reached out and held it in his palm, trying to clear its true face - it was a hole, a nothingness.

The think tank pulled the mind out of the rage and jumped into the dark hole.

At that moment, he gradually drifted away from the determined faces of his fighting brothers. His soul finally broke away from the damaged body and broke into the nothingness alone.

Just when everything was silent, an ancient and holy blood Angel emerged from nothingness and approached the think tank: its immeasurable power gave birth to the screams and wails around its ears. The overwhelming aura pierced the naked soul of the think tank and dragged the roar out of the darkness.

"Are you willing to preserve yourself and bring about an irreparable end for you?"

The angel spoke, with thousands of echoes.

"Or are you willing to shoulder the curse and save your blood brothers trapped in water and fire?"

The screams were still debating around, but calistarus had already made up his mind and realized that he would return again and he would continue to be loyal.

The rage enveloping the battle group will take his soul as a cage and will never reappear in the world. He will spare no effort to fight it for the rest of his life until the last drop of blood is shed.

He chose to embrace the darkness into his arms and leave the precious short light to his blood brothers.

Although he can't stop the end of the regiment or save his brother who fell into defect, he can give a head-on blow to his rage and slow down its progress.

He is willing to let the regiment have more cells to seal rage, more fortresses to resist the invasion of madness, and more strong shields to resist the march of reality - this is the wealth left by Saint Gilles to future generations.

Sacrifice does not mean giving up, but for real hope!

If you can buy a moment of precious time for the brothers of the War Regiment, why not turn into a devil?

Gradually, the soldier once named calistarus was broken.

When he appeared again, he had a new name——