Konrad Curze's jet-black hair swayed in the wind, revealing a corpse-like head.
The skulls strung on iron admonitions slammed against midnight-blue armor engraved with Runic Runes, bearing records of every massacre and victorious atrocity.
His arms dropped, and sickle-like blades extended from the tips of his armored fingers.
The Disruption Field crackled as he stepped forward along the Blood Red river spilled by the exploding Blood Red Daemon.
"Omega, I told you long ago that your plan would not work."
"Chaos Daemons cannot be relied upon."
The wrinkles pinching his brow with pain smoothed out, and the viper's smile quietly slipped away.
Curze's black eyes were deep. "I still remember that day."
His voice remained as harsh as ruins, yet there was a faint trace of sorrow at its edges.
"When I first saw you, it was not face-to-face as it is now, but through a Psionic Energy projection."
"I remember how the rushing river was cut off by Blood Red, how my claws tore open your chest."
Curze wore the expression of a cursed man. "Do you know?"
"Compared to most of our other brothers, I rather liked you."
"You were decisive when dealing with those nobles. It suited my tastes well. What a pity—"
Curze licked the points of his sharp teeth and sprang into the air.
A layer of black mist rose from Nimrod's right palm, and Be'lakor's bat wings vanished from thin air.
The spirituality of the Fallen Count spilled outward, surrounding the area and sketching out lines of black Rule Lines.
Thick fog spread at incredible speed, covering everything around them.
Dense mist stained Cassati Nuang's black eyes, and everything around him became hazy.
The dark vision he had inherited from his traitorous father failed completely for the first time. He could only see ten