The gunboat takes off as the warship carrying it passes by near-planet positions.

In the cockpit, a figure in black armor was watching the tracks of New Badab, warning lights washed his vision.

The planet looked like a piece of disgusting yellow fat passing through smoke and dust. The wreckage enveloped its orbit, and the twisted metal was like a continuous bank, glittering.

There is no doubt that there was a big battle here not long ago.

He corrected his route to make sure they did not approach the alert area, and then locked in the primary target and pushed the engine to its maximum output.

Although he was wearing power armor and locked in the pilot device, as the pressure increased, he still felt the hammering feeling brought by increasing to full speed.

"Warning, the current engine operating status and movement trajectory will cause damage."

The mechanical prompt sound rubbed against his ears, and he ignored it.

He did not ask the technical priest who had little meat to access the communications of the gunboat, but it inevitably certainly did so, and for a human who, in theory, had deprived his emotions for pure logic, was excellent in the foresight.

"The possibility of engine output drop is currently 85:21."

After a moment, the mechanical voice added:

“Estimated.”

He didn't reply, it made no sense.

The target in front of him is approaching quickly, and the outer guard ship, which serves as the first defense circle of the Destruction Ghost, is increasing from a distant small dot to a metal outline projected by starlight.

Then he threw the gunboat into an irregular spiral track and saw two warning runes displayed on the helmet flash from yellow to red.

"Start the battle display."

He finished speaking, the space around his body turned into a network of blue, red and green arcs representing potential targets.

Of course, they did not include warships - he suspected that even if he fired at the smallest warship, he might not be noticed by the other party.

"Bird and multiple aiming arrays have locked us."

“Send an identification signal.”

"obey."

The technical priest buzzed:

"We are advised to lower our speed, adjust our route to a stable trajectory, and turn off our weapons."

"No."

He answered coldly without pause.

"Send a signal and see if they still feel that their best course of action is to blow us away from the void."

The outer guard ships have now become towering cliffs that block the sight of New Badab and the rays of stars. In the distance, what is waiting for the inner defensive battleships, and in the center of the ball array they form is the huge and angular outline of the Destruction Ghost.

It is obvious that the Huron fleet suffered some losses, but it is not devastating. Moreover, the Pirate King obviously has reserve forces elsewhere, at least two heavy cruisers and one battlecruiser in the fleet are not in the Red Pirate Fleet he collected.

He suddenly pulled the gunboat up, flew out of a zigzag track, and then flashed back to the spiral state, and the target-locked voice kept appearing in his ears.

He was waiting, and at the same time felt the familiar feeling of the body in the armor being pulled by G power.

He missed this, and the control of human-machine integration and the sense of crisis echoed in his consciousness, which made him feel reborn and made him forget what he had lost.

At the same time, dancing in the Red Pirate's cannon aiming system has another meaning.

Cut in, weapon activate, aim to activate, and if they dare to fire, let them die.

It is a message, a statement with meaning - don't confuse power and power.

Of course, he does not want to put such things into practice.

"The opponent's warship has revoked their target lock."

"very good."

“They are sending greetings to us.”

"Give me a megaphone."

"obey."

The static sound sounded in his ears and then disappeared.

"The warships and soldiers of the Black Heart King welcome you, respected envoys."

The voice paused, and the person in the cockpit felt that he had recognized it, the harsh tone and sharp edge of words, used to drive rather than show politeness.

Kylekus, of course it was him.

It's not Huron, it's not time yet, unless they can confirm the reason why they're here.

"Where did you come from?"

Kylcus asked cautiously.

After the black armor on his helmet, the man laughed dryly.

"I'm from the Zhanshen."

He replied so.

The other party was silent for a few seconds, and then asked in a more modest tone.

"Who is yours?"

The visitor chuckled, like a ghost at midnight, and then he slowly spoke his name.

“Iskandar…Kayang.”

Half an hour later, the gunboat arrived at the hangar of the Destruction Ghost, and several warriors in black armor walked out of the open hatch doors and headed all the way to the person they needed to meet.

After about ten minutes of leaving, they met the powerful tyrant.

But the tyrant is in a bad state now.

The tyrant was still sitting high on his throne, trying hard to maintain his posture, and a metal claw scratched the right handrail of the throne.

The wounds created by Soshiyang no longer bleed, but occasionally there will be a few drops.

Looking at the people appearing in front of him, Huron's lips inhaled in a low voice, his arms tensed, his claw blades tightened, and he stabbed deeply into the obsidian.

Although he tried hard to maintain his posture, all this could not be hidden from Iskandalkayang - he is the best wizard in the Black Legion and one of the most trusted deputys of the war coach Abaddon.

At the same time, this wizard from Thousand Sons was also one of the first few people who cast the Black Legion.

Kayang raised his head, his eyes closed briefly, and his pale lips opened.

In another horizon, Huron's figure kept flashing, and ghosts were coming from behind the throne, and the blood oozing from the gaps in the armor kept shaking and blurring in the shadows, and then disappeared, and tiny ghosts surrounded his head and howled wildly.

Even though it is so far away, Kayang can still taste the rust, sulfur and sweet smells of heat.

Huron's condition is much worse than what he showed, and even his ability to survive is already a gift from the subspace.

Thinking of this, Kayang, with a melancholy face and amber-skinned skin, smiled and opened her eyes.

"His Excellency Ruft Huron, General Zhan asked me to say hello to you on his behalf."

"Abaddon's greetings, of course."

Huron smiled and shook his head, but this action made the wound in front of him even bigger. The broken armor near the wound turned up wrinkled like the corner of his mouth with a sneer.

Kayang was sure that the rumor was true, and Huron lost a heart.

Then the tyrant picked up the cup beside him, and a red and black liquid rippled inside, and then he drank it all in one go.

Kayang frowned. It was not the other person's behavior, but the liquid.

He could feel that there was some kind of violent power and dark witchcraft in the liquid, much like the potion "Feather of Heaven".

Although the name seems beautiful, the process of making this potion is extremely cruel. It requires the natural conception and conscious but unborn fetus from the mother, then crush and mix with several demonic blood. After purification, tens of thousands of fetuses may only have a few milliliters.

Huron's bite-

After drinking the potion, Huron's declining momentum was swept away and he returned to his former domineering and shrewdness.

"Tell me, what did Abaddon ask you to do."
Chapter completed!