vstars Chapter 345: Ahriman
Chapter 345: Ahriman
Chapter 345: Ahriman
Gabriel Angelo stood in the center of the Blood Ravens Chapter's banquet hall, aloft a glass of crimson wine, his signature hearty smile on his face. His power claws had been removed, replaced by a mechanical arm adorned with gold patterns, making him appear as if he had been specially dressed up for the occasion. The hall was brightly lit, the laughter of the Blood Ravens warriors mingling with the clinking of glasses, the air filled with the aroma of roasted meat and fine wine.
"For Russell and his 'Golden Wings'!" Gabriel's voice resounded throughout the hall like a battle cry. His gaze swept over everyone present, finally settling on Russell. "If you hadn't arrived in time, we Blood Ravens might have become roasted crows!"
Russell smiled and raised his glass, golden psionic energy flowing around him, as if adding brilliance to the celebration: "For the Blood Ravens' resilience and courage! Your resistance has bought us time."
Carleon stood beside Russell, his white wings gleaming under the lights. His gaze was calm and deep, seemingly unconcerned about the lively atmosphere of the feast. Gabriel noticed the super angel warrior, a sly smile playing on his lips: "Hey, big guy, I heard you're Russell's strongest warrior? How about a friendly spar to broaden everyone's horizons?"
Carleon paused for a moment, then nodded: "If this is your wish, Lord Gabriel."
A corner of the banquet hall was quickly cleared out, and the warriors formed a circle, excitedly awaiting the duel. Gabriel stretched his mechanical arm, striking a classic fighting pose: "Come on, let me see the power of a Super Angel!"
Carleon's white wings unfurled gently, the power sword "Judgment" gleaming coldly in his hand. His movements were elegant and composed, as if performing a dance. Gabriel launched the first attack, his mechanical arm whistling through the air as it aimed straight for Carleon's chest. However, Carleon simply shifted his body slightly, easily dodging the blow.
“The speed is good,” Carleon’s voice was deep and calm, “but not fast enough.”
Gabriel grinned and launched another attack. His punches were fierce and his moves were brutal, but Carleon dodged each one by a hair's breadth. The Super Angel Warrior's movements were as fluid as flowing water, as if he had already anticipated Gabriel's every move.
“My turn,” Carleon suddenly said. His power sword thrust out sharply, the blade lightly touching Gabriel’s mechanical arm before retracting. Gabriel felt a numbness in his arm and involuntarily took a few steps back.
"I lost," Gabriel laughed, raising his hands. "As expected of a super angel, you truly live up to your name!"
The soldiers watching erupted in enthusiastic applause and cheers. Russell stepped forward and patted Gabriel on the shoulder: "Your courage and your sense of humor are equally admirable."
Gabriel shrugged and laughed, "Losing to a super angel isn't shameful, at least I can make up for it with my drinking! Come on, Russell, let's have another drink!"
The atmosphere of the banquet reached another climax. Carleon sheathed his power sword and stood aside, quietly watching everything. A faint smile flashed in his eyes, as if he had found a moment of tranquility in this festivities.
As the banquet drew to a close, Gabriel raised his glass, his voice tinged with emotion: "Russell, Carleon, Arya... you are not only our allies, but also our friends. This celebration today is not only to mark our victory, but also to commemorate our friendship."
Russell nodded, his eyes shining with determination: "No matter how many challenges lie ahead, we will fight side by side. For the Emperor, for the future of the Empire."
Carleon's white wings fluttered gently in the light, and his voice was deep and powerful: "For glory."
Arya's psionic staff glowed faintly, a mischievous glint in her eyes: "Also for the next feast."
In the Blood Ravens Chapter's banquet hall, laughter and the clinking of glasses mingled together, as if proclaiming that no matter how powerful the enemy or how difficult the battle, nothing could stop the warriors from forging a friendship with blood and glory.
…………
In the hidden fortress of the Thousand Sons, Ahriman stood before a crystal wall inlaid with countless runes, his deep gaze piercing through the mists of the warp, as if observing a distant battlefield. His robes were embroidered with Tzeentch runes, each pattern shimmering with unpredictable light. In his hand he held a crystal ball, within which was reflected Russell's image—the warrior wielding the "Blood Drinker" entrenching tool, his body radiating golden psionic energy.
“Golden psionic energy?” Ariman’s voice was deep and full of interest. His fingers gently stroked the surface of the crystal ball, as if sensing the power contained within. “It’s a truly fascinating power… I’ve never seen this kind of psionic energy before.”
A Thousand Sons Wizard knelt on one knee, his voice tinged with awe: "Yes, sir, that fellow named Russell not only possesses golden psionic energy, but also leads a group of super angel warriors. Each of those winged birdmen has the power to destroy an army."
Ariman's lips curled up slightly, a sly glint in his eyes: "Super angels? Winged birdmen? Heh, the Empire is getting more and more interesting these days."
He turned around, his long robe drawing an elegant arc in the air: "It seems I have no choice but to see for myself."
Ahriman's command resounded throughout the Thousand Sons via the psionic network. Hundreds of Red Letter warriors awoke from their slumber, their armor adorned with Tzeentch runes, each pattern shimmering with an unpredictable light. Cursed wraiths surged from warp rifts, transforming into clusters of blue flames that hovered around Ahriman.
"My lord, are we really going to go ourselves?" a Thousand-Child Wizard asked in a low voice, his voice tinged with hesitation.
Ahriman's gaze swept over the assembled legion, his voice carrying an undeniable authority: "Golden psionic energy... this power should not be underestimated. If we can grasp its secrets, we might be able to rewrite the fate of the entire galaxy."
With a flick of his finger, Russell's image was reflected in the crystal ball: "Prepare the fleet. We'll let those winged birdmen know who the real psionic master is."
Inside the Blood Ravens Chapter's fortress, Russell suddenly felt a strange unease. His golden psionic energy swirled around him, as if responding to some unknown threat. Arya's psionic staff glowed faintly, her gaze grave: "Russell, I sense a powerful psionic force approaching... stronger than the previous Thousand Sons Legion."
Carleon's white wings fluttered gently, his voice deep and firm: "Whoever comes, we will make sure they never return."
Russell nodded, a resolute glint in his eyes: "Notify all warriors to prepare for a new challenge. This time, we may be facing a true psionic master."
The Thousand Sons fleet leaped from the warp rift, and Ahriman's flagship, the Eye of Deception, hovered above the Blood Ravens Chapter's fortress. He appeared on the bridge, his robes fluttering in the psionic storm. His gaze pierced through the void, locking onto Russell.
Russell Ahriman's voice echoed across the battlefield via the psionic network: "Your golden psionic energy intrigues me. Let me see if it can withstand true psionic power."
Russell stood atop the fortress's high walls, the "Blood Drinker" entrenching tool in his hand swaying gently. His golden pupils reflected Ahriman's image, and his voice carried a chilling undertone: "Ahriman, your tricks won't work here. We will defend the future of the Empire with blood and glory."
Carleon's white wings unfurled amidst the psionic storm, and his power sword "Judgment" flashed silver through the air: "For the Emperor!"
Arya raised her psionic staff high, and a dazzling light burst forth from the crystal: "For the glory of the Holy Blood Angels!"
With a flick of his finger, Ahriman unleashed countless cursed spirits from the warp rift, transforming into bursts of blue flame that surged towards Russell's defenses. The Red Letter warriors' psionic turrets began to roar, unleashing a deluge of psionic lightning.
Russell's golden psionic energy flowed around him as he swung his "Blood Drinker" entrenching tool, the blade igniting a burst of golden flames that incinerated the approaching cursed wraiths. Carleon's white wings traced a deadly arc across the battlefield, and each swing of his power sword "Judgment" sent a shower of blood into the air.
Arya's psionic staff pierced the scorched earth, and the silver ripples that erupted from her instantly cleared away the cursed spirits within a hundred-meter radius. Her gaze locked onto Ahriman, her voice laced with provocation: "Ahriman, your psionic power is nothing special!"
Ariman's lips curled up slightly, a sly glint in his eyes: "Interesting... very interesting. It seems this game has only just begun."