Chapter 379 05.0378: "Heretics must die!"

"Location in progress..."

"The crash site has been located and will be 500 meters above the target in about five minutes."

"Airborne indicator light is on"

Amid the cold mechanical female voice, the flashing red lights inside the Valkyrie fighter turned green and the tail hatch slowly opened.

Strong winds rushed in, and Horatio, wearing a full set of Hell's Elite power armor, stood in the wind, looking down at the ground full of smoke and war with a serious expression, looking for the wisp of black smoke that he was most worried about.

The centurion cloak with a golden sky eagle pattern and a pure white hem fluttered behind him, and the iron halo on the backpack shone brightly, illuminating the dim interior of the cabin.

"Prepare for airborne strike." He said to the team members on the communication channel.

In the jungle on the ground.

The enemy who knocked down the female pilot stood up and tried to pounce on her again, but she raised her long legs and kicked him in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

Seizing the opportunity of the enemy falling to the ground, the female pilot swiftly pounced on the rebel who knocked her down, and hit the other's chest with her knee, accompanied by a muffled sound of the cartilage tissue in the front chest breaking.
She covered the man's mouth tightly with her flight-gloved hand, and finally stabbed the man's throat with her other hand.

As the blade continued to twist, a sound of gulping breath and trickling blood escaped from the throat.

After confirming that the other party was silent, she drew her knife, casually wiped the bloody blade across the other party's body, and then continued to search the corpse for weapons and ammunition.

Just as she was about to pick up a high-explosive fragmentation grenade.
Suddenly, a kick came and hit her on the back, knocking her to the ground.

At some point, the Mohawk-haired team leader approached her silently from behind.

Before she could get up and fight back, the rebels rushed out from the nearby bushes and pounced on her limbs.

She wrestled with several men, and at first, relying on her weight and weapons, she fought them fairly evenly, and stabbed one of them in the leg with a dagger.

But the next second, her thick wavy hair was grabbed by the rebel soldier and pulled hard.

"Hiss!" She groaned in pain and used her free hand to fight back against the hand that was grabbing her hair, but another rebel grabbed her neck mercilessly.

"Damn it, you cheap bitch, you still want to run away!"

"You're the pilot of the Imperial Navy! Damn it, we finally caught you. Since the Astra Militarum landed, we've been bombed so badly by you bitches!"

The other kicked away her dagger and then crushed the pilot's wrist under his foot.

"You are the Imperial Navy. I warn you, if you land on our planet Farr, you will suffer the consequences!"

"Hehe, even if you scream your throat out today, no one will come to save you."

The rebel squad leader pulled up the collar of her flight jacket and looked at her three-dimensional and pretty features, as well as her dark face with an exotic beauty. "As expected of a navy, you look pretty good."

"Ugh—bah!" Fasha gritted his teeth and spat a stream of saliva on his face.

"How dare you spit at me!" The team leader was furious. When he was about to take revenge, he was hit hard in the face by the strong-willed woman.

"Ah!" The team leader screamed, covered his bleeding nose, gritted his teeth and punched the female pilot with his backhand.

The female pilot felt dizzy and subconsciously reached out her hand to wipe the tip of her high nose that seemed to have been overturned, leaving the back of her hand stained with blood.

"When I was deceived by the Corpse King, I hated you guys the most. You are so arrogant every day. You think flying in the sky is great, right? Being an officer is great, right?

Bitch, tell me what you know, and I can help you get the ritual cross to the Blood Throne in tonight's sacrifice, or I'll throw you to those maggot-headed minions of the Lord of Decay."

With one hand he suppressed Fasha's resistance, and with the other hand he violently tore off Fasha's aviation captain's epaulettes.

Faced with threats and attacks, the hot-tempered girl didn't care that she was unarmed and just started fighting without showing any weakness.

He actually used his only remaining hand to grab the other person's wrist and twisted it to the side.

But the other party raised his hand and grabbed her throat, going straight to the aorta with force, very viciously and mercilessly.

"Gah!" Fasha squeezed out a sound with great effort. The pain in her neck made her eyes go dark.

But she continued to fight back, tearing the flesh off her attacker's face.

There was a sickly grin on the other person's face, and as he listened to her dying gasps, he laughed louder and louder, as if he was enjoying some beautiful song.

"Boss, don't strangle her to death. The priest said she must be kept alive." The subordinate at the side couldn't help but remind her when he saw the female pilot rolling her eyes.

"So what if I die?" The Mohawk-haired man smiled twistedly, licked his lips with his mutated dark purple tongue, and looked at his men:
"If he's dead, then the sacrifice can't be used? Maybe it'll be more useful.

Moreover, can't you feel the desire for life and the resistance to death in her panting? This is an outburst of passion that only happens once in every life, how pleasant it is.

Try harder, I can almost feel the sweetness of the soul sliding through my lips and tongue~"

As soon as he finished speaking, he increased the strength of his hands.

"Uh... Boss, you have the final say."

The heretics nearby were also frightened by their leader's habit, which was considered terrifying and weird even among the cultists, but no one dared to say a word, let alone stop him.

The female pilot's legs kicked wildly, and her flight boots dug two shallow grooves in the grass, making a rustling sound. With long-term experience in anti-gravity flights, she was still able to fight desperately in this hypoxic environment. Her nails even scratched the face of this crazy man, leaving deep blood marks on his face.

In response to these wounds, the Mohawk man not only did not cry out in pain, but laughed more and more excitedly, and became more and more terrifying and unbridled.

"Ugh..." After several minutes of lack of oxygen, no matter how tolerant the female pilot was, her eyes began to roll up frequently, her consciousness gradually became blurred, and she looked like she was no longer able to resist.

[Am I...going to die like this...?]
[I'm sorry, the people of Taran, my beloved parents, brothers and sisters, I can't avenge you.]
The look in her bright eyes dimmed, the scene before her eyes began to become blurry, and her breathing became weak.

Just as she was losing consciousness due to lack of oxygen to her brain, she seemed to see a familiar figure.

[Is that you... Captain... It's strange, why do I see you at this time...]
Whoosh!
A sound of breaking through the air passed over everyone's heads.

All of a sudden, the branches above my head rustled.

When the absent-minded rebel soldier on the side looked up in confusion, he saw a figure falling from above his head with fire spewing from behind, his cloak rustling, and a ring behind him flashing a dazzling light.

"Quah!"

The next second, the rebel who raised his head was trampled into a pool of meat paste by the fully armed Horatio. Two lucky eyeballs burst out of their sockets and hit the rebel leader, leaving two ugly blood stains.

More armored figures landed, and the dense forest instantly turned into a melee. The intersecting laser beams and bullets shattered the branches and leaves.

The leader was stunned and instinctively loosened his control over Fasha's hands, trying to dodge.

But Horatio would never give him this chance. The bright red eyepiece flashed a terrifying light, and the iron hand pinched his jawbone at a speed that ordinary people could not catch.

With just a slight force, the brittle jawbone was instantly crushed and sunken, mixing with the oral flesh into a mass of mud.

Suddenly, Horatio turned around abruptly, and the movement behind him had already been detected instantly by the close-range tactical auspicious instrument.

"Go to hell! You running dog of the Corpse King!" After turning around, a rebel soldier was rushing towards him with a single-molecule bayonet, looking at him in astonishment as he had seen through his sneak attack in advance.

Horatio calmly and ruthlessly turned around and kicked the opponent, activating the pulley of his boots while kicking the opponent in the face.

With a sizzling sound, a cloud of blood mist suddenly burst out from the bottom of his tactical steel boots, accompanied by an indistinct scream.

The rebel soldier who was kicked by him had his face torn apart by the pulley in an instant, leaving only bloody and broken facial muscles.

A moment later, he flew several meters away with his head tilted in an unnatural posture.

The shattered head was embedded in the tree trunk, the face was sunken, bloody and mangled, and the death was extremely horrific.

Horatio turned his head and looked at the rebel leader who was still held steadily by him. His ridiculous Mohawk, which he was so proud of, was swaying back and forth uncomfortably, like a skinny rooster that was strangled half to death.

"Brother...brother, what's up?!" He recognized the naval emblem on Horatio and mumbled out in surprise.

[Imperial Navy], the voice system considerately displayed the identification content to Horatio on the display screen.

But for Horatio, it was an intolerable insult that this filthy heretic who had defected to Chaos dared to address the Imperial Navy by its name with his filthy and dirty tongue.

His cheeks were tense, his back teeth were creaking, and with burning rage, he raised his hand and thrust his finger wrapped in power armor into his mouth.

The ceramic-steel alloy covering the fingers crushed the traitor's lips with great force, breaking his front teeth, and then pinched something soft.

"Repent, scum!" The external speaker array played a cold short sentence, which seemed extremely terrifying when combined with his behavior.

As soon as he finished speaking, with a "swish" sound, his entire dark purple long tongue was pulled out of Horatio's mouth in an instant. Blood spurted out of his mouth into the air like a fountain, and then flowed down his broken jaw.

"No! No! No!"

Severe pain instantly spread throughout the traitor's body, causing him to tremble as if he were epileptic. At this moment, he only wanted to die quickly, but he could neither live nor die.

This location was chosen very cleverly. The pain nerves at the root of the tongue would directly twist the brain, but the injury itself would not cause immediate death.

After all, if he wanted to die after his tongue was pulled out, the only way would be for the blood to enter his lungs and he would suffocate to death. This would be an extremely painful and long process.

"Centurion, the surrounding enemies have been eliminated." A scout reported in the channel, holding a Hell Gun with smoke coming out of the muzzle.

"Nail him to the tree trunk for me, making sure to avoid the major arteries. Nail his hands and feet. I want to let all the rebellious heretics who pass by here know the consequences of betraying the God-Emperor."

Horatio threw the Mohawk-haired man heavily to the ground. The poor guy was now struggling and curling up like a red maggot that had sucked enough blood.

"Uh! Uh-huh!"

Amid the incoherent and extremely shrill screams, two vanguard soldiers who were born as loyal descendants dragged the traitor away roughly with incomparable hatred for him.

Not long after, the sound of wooden stakes hitting each other was heard.

"I said I would not abandon the lives of any of you. Now, I am fulfilling my promise and taking you home."

Horatio bent down and picked up the unconscious female pilot, then walked out of the bushes. Two Taurus assault vehicles of the Imperial Navy were waiting beside the crashed Skyhawk One.

The Hell's vanguards also left one after another, leaving only the rebel captain whose tongue had been pulled out and whose blood gushed out from his broken jaw like a stream. He was nailed to a tree trunk and uttered faint wails.

On the sign nailed to his chest, there were several words written in blood in Low Gothic:
——DEATH TO THE HERETICS!

(End of this chapter)