Luther and Lord Sefer

Azrael saw that dark green figure—grim, powerful, terrifying. Just one distant glance filled Azrael with fear that rose from his very marrow.

The Lion, Leman Russ El'Jonson, had appeared at some unknown moment within the deep passage of flesh before him, so suddenly, so inexplicably.

Azrael was almost instantly certain that this was once again the Hive Mind repeating its old tricks. The special Zoanthrope known as the Malice of Malan Tai was trying to use this method to confuse his mind, lure him in, and devour his soul.

Thus, the former Chapter Master of the Dark Angels hesitated for only two seconds before drawing the blade at his waist.

Before Hraell beside Azrael could react, Azrael darted like a black cat through the forest, circling to the figure's flank and silently crouching down.

Hraell noticed this. He too saw the Lion and wanted to stop Azrael, but remembering that Azrael had seen through the illusion woven by the Malice of Malan Tai last time, Hraell hesitated for an instant.

In that instant, the Lion standing within the fleshy passage seemed to sense Azrael's presence. He slightly turned his head, about to look behind himself.

An opening!

Azrael gave a low growl. The blade in his hand, sharp as a cat's fang, stabbed straight toward the Lion's body.

The Lion turned around, his reaction faster than Azrael's sword.

Those grim eyes hidden beneath his dark golden mane locked onto Azrael's body in an instant too brief to measure.

Azrael immediately felt as though ten thousand rough obsidian blades had pierced his body, intense pain scorching every nerve cluster within him.

His expression trembled slightly. He remembered his childhood, when he had still been a cave-dwelling child upon a frozen world. He had hidden beneath the snow, waiting through the bitter