Adams, lord of the Fourth Legion of the Shadow of Order, stared at the Night Lord with a scorched face, black markings faintly visible upon his pale features.
Jando Skolevok, the Tattooed Count.
Adams thought of the river of blood flowing beneath Husto, and the corpses of the Shadow of Order buried in the lower crypts of the Death Wither.
The Undying spoke in a low voice, accompanied by murmurs of guttural whispers rising and falling.
The battle psyker with an eerie blue eye growing from his right arm raised his hand, hurling several Aeldari wraiths into the air as though they had been caught in a hurricane.
One Aeldari wraith's dark green body shattered. Another slammed into the ground, and the explosion's shockwave sent out a chill blast.
Thud!
The battle psyker's knees smashed into the ground. It felt as though an invisible hand had torn his heart from his chest.
Another battle psyker's brown face rotted away, his bones decaying at terrifying speed, as if they had weathered a thousand years in an instant. He collapsed sideways.
Skolevok's black eyes widened abruptly. His left arm had become shriveled, as though all moisture had been drained from it.
"He reminds me of some truly disgusting opponents—"
Skolevok heard an ancient loathing lingering in the Daemon's voice. The blade on his right arm sprang up sharply, sending out a streak of red light.
Pink mist surged forward, filling the air with a dazzling aura.
A beam of ghostly green light shot from Adams's eyes, cleaving through the pink mist.
Large patches of dark green scales surfaced across the Undying's body. Spiritual force erupted, tracing one Idris's Dead Runes after another, bestowed by the Black Emperor, before striking Skolevok.
Skolevok gasped for breath. His face festered and oozed pus, while fine