"You are testing my patience, daemon! Khayon is my brother! I promised him I'd take good care of his sister!" Abaddon raised the daemon sword Drach'nyen at Carlos, while the Long War veterans loyal to him aimed all manner of weapons at Carlos as well.
Carlos's two heads smiled in unison. "Calm down, Warmaster. I merely made a suggestion. You are the one who decides. So long as you refuse, nothing will happen."
"Then hurry up and think of another way to deal with that Imperial assassin!" Abaddon threatened.
Watch your tone, Abaddon!
Carlos dearly wished he could answer Abaddon like that, so the man would understand that calling him Warmaster was merely mockery. But he could not do so. The best time to set the plan in motion had not yet come, and Abaddon still had some use left. Thus, Carlos's two heads swayed crazily, as though they had found a brilliant idea in fragments of the future and past.
Abaddon received a long and convoluted riddle from Carlos. It was even cobbled together from the vocabulary and grammar of different races and civilizations. Deciphering it in such a short time was simply an impossible task.
Abaddon's expression twitched. Staring at Carlos's body, he could only order his sorcerers to decipher the riddle as best they could and find a solution. He knew that continuing to press the daemon would only force him to pay a terrible price utterly disproportionate to the outcome—and that was precisely the result daemons loved to see.
Lin Fan drew ever closer to the ship's upper levels. Many Black Legion warriors tried to stop his advance, but in the end, they could only become souls slain beneath his bayonet.
More beasts filled the battle line Lin Fan had torn to pieces. Their souls had