You Are Not Worthy of Granting Him Glory!

The sword blade stopped in mid-air.

The seven-colored light illuminated the governor's blood-stained face, illuminating the stubborn light in his eyes that refused to be extinguished.

The tip of the biological sword was only a punch away from his eyebrows, and the crystals on the sword were trembling slightly, making a tiny, buzzing sound.

Swarm Prince did not thrust the sword down.

It looked at the old man standing in front of it, standing on one leg, with his left arm hanging by his side, and holding a broken Tyranids sickle limb in his right hand. A complex light that even it couldn't fully understand flashed through the slits of his blue-white eyes.

"I appreciate your courage."

Its voice was low, with a strange solemnity that seemed to be squeezed out from deep in the chest, "The hymn of mankind is the hymn of courage. The greatness of mankind is the greatness of courage. I understand this now. I am very grateful to you. So - I will not torture you, nor will I make you feel pain."

It raised the sword in its hand, moving slowly and firmly.

The biological sword drew a colorful arc in the air, and the tip of the sword was aimed at the governor's throat.

This is not killing, this is giving.

Grant a worthy opponent an honorable death.

"Given a glorious death? You deserve it too!"

The governor spat on the ground.

The saliva was dark red, mixed with blood, mixed with sand, and mixed with a sense of joy that had been suppressed for sixty years and could finally be released.

His eyes were fixed on Swarm Prince. There was no fear in those gray-blue pupils, only a kind of calmness - "I'm worth this life."

"My death was not given by you! God-Emperor is watching me, I am loyal to him, and I will devote myself to him!"

He roared, his steps staggering, but extremely determined.

The broken leg dragged a long bloody trail on the ground, and the residual arm dangled feebly by his side.

But he stood up.

From the ruins, from the pile of corpses, from the abyss of death, he stood up.

He used all his strength to lift the broken Tyranids sickle limb.

Swarm Prince looked at his appearance, looked at his broken leg that was still bleeding, looked at his left arm that could no longer be lifted, and looked at the wound on his face that had burst due to force.

Its brow - the brow without eyebrows hidden under the carapace - frowned slightly.

Not because of anger, but because of a strange, unfamiliar feeling that it couldn't name, causing a bit of confusion in its logical array.

"Then I will help you."

Its voice was still calm, but beneath the calmness, there was a... softness that even it itself was not aware of.

It will respect all beings with backbone who make it feel the shining point of life.

There was something about those beings that it had never seen in the swarm.

Not strength, not speed, not any biological indicator that can be quantified, but a kind of color.

The color of life.

The insect swarm is gray and colorless, and it is a monotonous cycle with only two states: "Eating" and "being swallowed".

But those humans, those Eldar, those warriors who chose to stand and die even in desperate situations - they had a light as bright as the stars that confused Swarm Prince.

It felt that this was exactly what the insect swarm lacked.

The insect swarm is growing stronger and stronger, and the number of the group can no longer be measured in numbers.

But they are so lonely, without any color of life.

Great Devourer rules everything, its will is the will of all Tyranids, and its goal is the goal of all Tyranids.

No questions, no hesitations, no whys.

There is only devouring, only evolution, and only endless expansion.

Swarm Prince, as a being specifically endowed with wisdom by Hive Mind, feels this is not good.

This is very bad.

If it stays like this forever and devours it endlessly, then what is the meaning of devouring it all?

Just to increase the number of ethnic groups indefinitely?

What is the substantive significance of that?

The physical emptiness, the hunger in the belly, can be filled by devouring others.

And what about the soul?

Do the Swarm have souls?

Swarm Prince Don't know.

But it knew that it saw something in those humans that it longed for.

Not power, not genes, not any biomass that can be absorbed by Hive Mind.

Rather, it is something that, after devouring countless lives, it still cannot analyze, copy, or possess.

It would like to have some discussions in this regard.

It wants to know if there are more roads for the insect swarm to walk on.

And these humans, as well as other races with noble souls, can bring it inspiration.

It always feels that it can discover more about the meaning of life in the very few living creatures of these groups.

"You make me a little annoyed. But I still respect you."

Swarm Prince's voice had a rare sigh-like quality, "Welcome your death. This is my special permission."

The seven-colored sword blade cuts down.

The governor waved the severed limb in his hand and struck it.

The broken Tyranids sickle limb drew an arc in the air and collided with the blade of the biological sword.

There were no sparks, no loud noises, just a small "chi" like paper being torn.

The sickle limb split flatly from the middle, and the two halves slipped from the governor's hand and hit the ground, throwing up a small piece of dust.

The governor's hands were empty.

His weapon is gone.

His leg is broken.

His arm is useless.

His body was penetrated countless times.

He has nothing left.

Only those eyes, those grey-blue, bloodshot, turbid but still bright eyes, stared at Swarm Prince.

There was no begging for mercy, no fear in that look, there was only one - I will use my anger to burn you through.

Swarm Prince's sword was raised again.

This time, it won't stop.

It wants to give this mortal a happy ending, an ending worthy of his courage.

The sword blade paused in the air for a moment, which was its last respect.

Then, it split.

"You don't deserve to kill him either!"

The sound did not come from a certain direction, but fell from the sky.

Like a loud bell, like thunder, like some ancient language that has been lost, declaring judgment.

The sound echoed repeatedly between heaven and earth, shaking in all directions, shaking sand and rocks, and rolling clouds.

The hovering Tyranids--Hormagaunt, Termagant, Tyranid Warrior--all let out ear-piercing screams at the same time, because their bodies were violently smashed away by an extremely fast, extremely hard, and extremely unstoppable life form.