"How could you possibly sleep at your age?!"
Against the backdrop of a battle filled with flashing Psychic Power and silver-white giant spiders,
Karras swung his staff at the Death Guard sprawled in the mud, gasping for breath, casually administering staff-strike treatment.
His other hand was not idle either. He gathered it into a ball of lightning and immediately hurled it at the Space Lord who looked like he deserved to die.
"God! This is the first time I've seen someone keep working for their master after dying—and you don't even have a life left for him to ruin!"
Karras shouted in amazement at the sour-faced Space Lord. Peak foul mouth, simple pleasure. It was that simple.
"Ignorant fool!"
Space Lords differed from ordinary Necron. Their rank allowed them to retain more or less of their minds, and some well-maintained Necron Overlords could even think no differently from when they had been alive.
It was clearly grander and more agile than the overlords of those fringe minor dynasties. Shimmering radiance swept across the Necron Overlord's crown.
The staff of light in its hand was as dazzling as a solar flare, directly dispersing the faint mist trying to spread across Necron territory.
The overlord looked toward the Psyker Space Marine three khett* away. It sensed an aura clearly different from that of other humans. That loudly cursing Psyker was extremely dangerous.
(*Khett: an ancient Egyptian unit of length.)
The radiance around the human Psyker was not inferior even to the weapons of the Old Ones.
This clearly surprised the Necron Overlord. What shocked it even more was that the formation of Seraph heavy constructs had actually been suppressed by the Imperium of Man's bizarre Titans.
Though the Seraph heavy constructs were smaller than Psychic Titans, the equipment mounted on them absolutely