Chapter 973 328. The Undertaker (End, 5k)

Author: Cut the wallpaper with a knife

Chapter 973 328. The Undertaker (End, 5k)

The short knife and the dead scythe collided with each other, and the collision of the sharp edges brought about a kind of almost deafening howl.

Corax was so fast that it was almost impossible to observe. Mortarion's vision was filled with a large number of black and gray blurred colors. He knew what it was. It was the afterimage produced when Corax waved his weapon.

The weapon that caused Balu to turn to ashes when he looked directly at it was wrapped in it, and it looked unattractive. However, the unsheathed sword was the most dangerous.

The Lord of Death gritted his teeth and roared angrily, exerting force with his arms, and the scythe spun suddenly. He used a dangerous spin to force the Lord of Crows to distance himself from him. Corax smiled, and the sound escaped in the air.

Mastering distance is the essence of hand-to-hand combat. He could not give Corax any chance to get close to him. Mortarion began to wave his scythe wildly, and the colorful wings on his back began to exude an aura that was both disgusting and attractive at the same time.

Fragrance, this is not his intention, but these wings are instinctively trying to let him win.

"witchcraft."

Corax stood there and commented coldly. "You are still relying on them, just as weak as you are on biological and chemical weapons to win the war, Mortarion. You should do better than this, don't let me

disappointment."

"Who do you think I am? To let you down?"

Mortarion retorted, showing no sign of weakness in his words. "After I use the scythe to draw out your heart, you can look at the sky and say this to yourself again."

"We'll see."

As the words fell, the air roared.

Mortarion's cloudy eyes were immediately filled with gray-black blur again.

The thick fungus carpet and withered plants on the plain began to be destroyed by the endlessly rotating thousands of shadow blades and turned into ashes. This was not a move in any swordsmanship. No swordsman could control tens of thousands of sharp feather-shaped blades to kill.

responsibilities.

Mortarion's hair stood on end. He roared again and placed the scythe across his chest, trying to block the fatal blow. However, the expected attack did not come. A storm of sharp blades hovered in front of him.

Then Shi Shiran turned into a human figure.

The Lord of Crows, who was wearing jet-black armor, calmly touched the ground with his feet and sneered arrogantly: "Do you want to do it again, brother? What do you think of a fair fight?"

humiliation.

The Lord of Death's face suddenly darkened. He folded his wings, grabbed the left wing with his free left hand, and began to exert force little by little with his arm.

His power was so great that the pair of wings that could withstand the bombardment of main battle tanks began to whine little by little. Starting from the place where it was connected to the shoulder blade, it began to be torn apart little by little. The flesh and blood were torn apart by the huge force.

And slowly disintegrating, no matter how reluctant they were to let go, a person's firm will did not give them any chance to heal themselves.

Rancid juice began to drip down his spine.

Mortarion gasped deeply, but still did not stop moving. A minute later, he threw the left wing to the ground. It had lost its previous glory, and now it shrank into a ball. He lowered his head, his left hand trembling,

Liquid that wasn't blood dripped down the arm.

But the Lord of Death did not stop. He just changed the scythe to one hand and started to attack his other wing. He was not wearing armor, and was only wearing a cloth robe. He looked extremely miserable at this moment.

.

"Now, the battle has officially begun."

Corax's expression became serious, and he waved the short sword like a sharp sword, making a standard invitation to challenge.

Behind him, Conrad Coates stopped smiling.

He narrowed his eyes and raised his left arm rhythmically with his right hand.

"Come!" Mortarion tightened his grip on the scythe with a scowl on his face. "Come, Corvus Corax, see if you can defeat me!"

Corax did not answer, he jumped closer. Even without using the power of shadow, his extraordinary agility was enough to make him surpass Mortarion in agility.

In almost the blink of an eye, the short knife stabbed the diseased palm at lightning speed. The scythe is a weapon that requires both hands. Throughout the entire galaxy, only Mortarion and his legion may use this weapon.

.Even the Lord of Crows lacks experience in fighting against it. But he knows how to restrict the users of long weapons.

The short knife wrapped in the shadow unsurprisingly cut through the skin of Mortarion's right hand. Although the Lord of Death's reaction speed was slower than that of Corax, it was definitely not so slow that it was unacceptable.

.

He clenched his hands and swung the scythe violently. Corax narrowed his eyes, already realizing what he wanted to do. But he would not give Mortarion this chance. As soon as the blow was successful, he immediately retreated and continued without hesitation.

He retreated outside the attack range of the scythe.

"How?" Corax raised the dagger and rotated it between his fingers, changing from an overhand grip to a reverse grip. His expression was still calm, and he knew that such damage was nothing to Mortarion. The latter's

The self-healing power has begun to heal the wound in the center of the palm.

A test - that's what Corax would call what he just did, if you asked.

"you are too slow."

The Lord of Crows taunted his opponent. Verbal exchanges are never out of date. As long as your opponent still has reason and emotions, he will definitely be angered in some places.

"I may be slower than you, but I don't need to be faster than you."

Mortarion lowered his scythe, his cloudy eyes fixed on Corax's shoulder. In battle, hands may be deceiving, but shoulders are not.

He forced himself to cheer up. Even if the short sword was wrapped in shadow, it was always weakening his physical strength. Not to mention his behavior of pulling off his own wings, which represented Nurgle's gift to him. He personally

Giving up on them, at this moment, Mortarion still belongs to the devil, but not completely.

Man's will is reviving, but the opportunity is the desire to kill his brother. It may sound very evil, but that's how humans are - humans are creatures that are difficult to define. Pure evil and pure goodness are both very different.

There are few, but most people are just struggling.

"Yeah?"

Corax smiled again, and stepped into the ashes created by the shadow blade with his heavy iron boots. The speed and power were terrifying. He closed the distance, and the terrifying offensive was immediately launched. The short sword

Seven attacks were carried out in just two seconds.

Eyes, throat, heart, arm tendons, then throat and eyes again, and finally, Corax drove it deep into Mortarion's right wrist and twisted it hard, destroying him completely.

The ability to hold a weapon in his right hand. This broad palm is now being hung on his arm.

Corax retreated again, escaping the attack of the scythe by a hair. The weapon called Silence scraped and creaked his armor, and the runes used for protection were automatically extinguished by the Lord of Crows.

The shield was not activated, and the server was even shut down. He was fighting Mortarion in a physical body wearing a heavy suit of armor.

"Don't you really?" Corax demanded. "If you want to outsmart me, words and your tenacity will not be enough, Mortarion."

The Lord of Death gasped hard. Such injuries were enough to make an ordinary person fall to the ground immediately. Robert Guilliman may not be able to withstand such a terrible attack, but he can. His physique allows him to survive most dangers, and naturally

Including this one. The ability carefully woven by his father, which he was unwilling to admit, was quickly restoring his injuries and strength.

After a few seconds, his body returned to complete—rotten perfection.

"Yes, that's it." Mortarion said in a low voice. "In the end, we have to use blades and violence to talk, Corvus Corax. Apart from this, there is nothing else in the galaxy. Just the same.

We were created with the intention of him, we are his tools, dedicated to killing and destroying."

Corax rarely refuted immediately. He just sighed slowly: "This is the disadvantage of silence, brother. He is silent, so we all misunderstood him."

"Misunderstanding? Don't tell me you don't know what kind of man he is. Don't tell me you don't know what happened to Angron, and don't tell me you don't know what Robert Guilliman did to Lorgar's city.

What."

Mortarion had no anger, no roar, or even a sneer. He held the scythe tiredly, covering his true thoughts with an otherworldly calm.

"Do I need to list anything else to prove his so-called love for us? If possible, I would rather I had never been born in his laboratory. This way I would not have to sink in his hypocrisy and disguise.

I no longer have to try to convince myself of anything, I just have to hate him."

"It's useless to talk more."

Corax did not let the conversation continue. He raised his arms and wanted to continue fighting. However, a hissing voice interrupted him: "Don't take away all the happiness, Corax, let me participate too."

How about a moment?"

The Lord of Crows squinted his eyes. He couldn't see anything else from Curze's smile. After a few seconds, he snorted coldly and threw the short knife over. Mortarion turned around in time.

, asked hoarsely: "Can't you help it, Conrad?"

The only answer to him was the approaching darkness, which was in line with his understanding of Konrad Coates. The Midnight Haunter has never been a person who advocates fair fighting. He spreads fear with the purpose of weakening his opponent. If necessary,

He will use any extreme tactics to force his enemies to surrender.

Mortarion raised his arm and twirled the scythe. The sound of swords clashing resounded throughout the withered plain, like rolling thunder. Konrad Curze held the short sword in his right hand, but the weapon he used was his left hand.

A scimitar condensed on it.

The Lord of Night smiled slightly, raised the blade, and slashed straight down. Mortarion raised his arm, resisted again, and then rotated the long handle, intending to use the tail of the scythe to slam Conrad Curze's left leg.

He failed, and Curze jumped up as if he had predicted the unknown. He slashed with his scimitar. The terrifying speed allowed him to successfully cut Mortarion's throat.

The Lord of Death stumbled back a step, covering the wound that was constantly oozing out the rotten black liquid, but still did not give up the fight. He covered the sickle with both hands again, and the wound began to heal at an accelerated rate.

He roared angrily and rushed towards Coze. The speed and pressure of running caused the Withered Plains to be hit hard again. The plants that were not completely dead began to scream in his thoughts, begging him to let them go, and they called out

Nurgle's name made Mortarion even more angry.

He never wanted himself to be like this, and he never wanted his legion to be like that. He did betray, but he still considered himself human - but who is he now?
To be continued...