"Beneath the Emperor's light, justice fears no evil. May our deeds be reflected in His gaze and please His heart."
"We pray that, so long as the Emperor is pleased, His holiness shall grant us lives of radiance and deaths worthy of our place."
The Sister had been praying ever since Su Ming took her from the camp, flew directly here while avoiding everyone's eyes, and landed. She had been muttering prayers ever since.
Listening to her quiet murmuring behind him, Su Ming took a deep drag from the cigarette between his lips, then exhaled the nicotine-laced smoke far into the distance.
"We're here to hack up the Inquisition. Isn't praying to the Emperor a little... you know?"
Su Ming simply found a reef by the shore and sat down. He watched the black ocean beneath the night sky as it let out painful groans.
The Sister understood the current situation. She was prey that had been marked. If she did not deal with the Inquisitor who had arrived alongside the assassin, it would be difficult for her to have enough time to track down her enemy.
But was this really right?
Being carried through the air by Deathstroke had been truly strange. The Primarch of the Blood Angels could fly because he had wings, but Deathstroke's flight was more like high-speed movement while hovering. There was no psychic reaction and no technology involved. It was impossible to understand.
Her thoughts were a mess. The closer they got to the Inquisition's warship, the more hesitant she became.
So, out of habit, the Sister prayed to calm herself down. Yet Deathstroke said her prayers were useless, making her nearly forget the words. Several blasphemous jokes from the Laughing God even surfaced in her mind.
She hurriedly shook her head, throwing those