Garmozejie looked down at him illuminated by the ceremony candles and took off his armored limbs.
The incense burned in the niche, emitting the smell of holy oil, and his hand was slackened with the sword that had turned off his position.
The metal shines between the exposed muscles, they are implanted in the edges of the black carapace, covered with thick scar tissue, and the white blouse he wore exposed the price of faith chaos - the palms disappeared and turned into bird-like claws, while the thighs were like arthropods, and the neck was a bunch of chain valves.
Deep under his feet, the engine of the Honour Heart stirred and exploded, advancing in the chaotic etheric energy.
Some scripture strips hung in the dim light, each recording the war he fought for the empire in the past.
The ritual text depicts the forgotten glorious record, reaching its peak in Princia until the decisive moment of finding the soul spear.
Since then, the mark has mostly turned into a defeat, or a miserable victory that has no profit in the long run.
Witnessing them is witnessing the decline of a once proud and proud soul. These banners were written in the most delicate and delicate brushstrokes in the past, but now there is no time to write them well, so the brushstrokes are hurry and sloppy.
Everything seems to be the same, but the essence has long been lost.
The smoke from the incense burner has no soul, and there is no rhythm in the cold air.
Garmozejie grabbed the sword again and traced back to his battle with Soshiyang.
He has done this more than a dozen times, trying to find out the mistakes he made.
He has not found any of his enemies at the moment, and his enemies are just purely stronger - stronger, faster, and sharper.
There is nothing to learn from it, it can only make him realize his weakness.
Digris, Ezekiel, Diego......
Once upon a time, Garmozejie also longed for and yearned to be on par with those names and become the greatest think tank and Astatra psychic.
But that disastrous action ended all opportunities and instead put "shackles" on him.
This is war, destiny, and there is no reward that can be salvaged in the quagmire called "fall".
The witch sword swirled in the darkness, carving the air.
Garmozejie stepped forward and fought an enemy in his memory that had long been gone.
He often did this in the archives of the battle group a long time ago, fighting the enemies recorded in the archives, and spending hours each time.
His sword used to be as precise and smooth as writing.
The blade turns, slashes down, and then retreats.
Garmozejie adjusted his center of gravity and compensated for every swing of the blade.
When he withdrew his forelimbs, because of the incongruence of the movement of the limbs - only a microsecond delay, almost imperceptible, but it was enough.
He maintained his posture, estimating how much his weakness would be exposed by these few microseconds of slowness.
The mutated limbs always give him an indescribable feeling.
He slowly relaxed.
At this time, the incense burner had been extinguished and the remaining blue smoke fluttered gently.
Garmozej let the sword tip droop and turned from the center of the meditation room. At this time, he glanced at the outline of an observer in the shadow, wandering in the candlelight, waiting patiently.
"Friend, you have something to ask me for."
Garmozejie's breathing was a little heavy, and then he walked towards the place where his weapon should be hung.
"The Starspeople receive new information."
Tubaker appeared from the shadows. Without a helmet, he had a faint light of inspiration in his eyes.
"...... It was Huron's order to withdraw everyone and the ship from the Great Vortex, and his contract with Abaddon seemed to be over."
Garmozejie nodded, he lowered his sword and tied his belt tightly.
"How is the pursuit of the empire going?"
"Abaddon lost three more frigates, but finally dragged the fleet into the sub-space. However, there was a cruiser that could no longer move and might be used to replenish our crew."
"What else?"
Tubaker paused.
"I heard that Abaddon and Aliman met."
Garmozej walked towards the exit of the meditation room, and Tubek joined him from the side.
"You're very uncomfortable."
“Indeed, after all…”
Tubaker cast uncertain eyes forward.
"You know what happened to us, too."
"That's all the past. I want to talk to Aliman if I have the chance. He knows a lot, and we still have a lot of things to rely on."
"What should I do now? Follow Xiulun's orders?"
“No need.”
Garmozejie walked to the curtain covering the exit, and the light from the corridor outside was projected on the paper-white floor at the entrance.
"Huron can't give us anything anymore..."
"By the way, there's something else."
Tubaker stood there without crossing the threshold.
Garmozejie also stopped and tilted his head slightly.
"What?"
"I have also seen the report of the unlucky fleet commander of the Black Legion. He actually fought well. Although he caused huge losses, he did trap the imperial fleet in the void, so that the hidden fleet had the opportunity to go to Pao Shangxing to catch people."
Garmozejie listened patiently, but he was already worried.
"What really made his battle situation completely collapse was a giant ship that suddenly appeared, a Queen of Glory. Do you understand what I mean?"
"not yet."
Tubek stared at Garmozej.
"I'm not kidding, brother."
"Neither, brother."
"Things are not that simple, Knight of the Star Realm, the Star of Pai Shang, the Stone of Hellfire, brother, I know you have a lot of things and still hide them from me. Now I hope to know some truth."
"I admit that there are some things I didn't tell you at the beginning, but not out of distrust, but not wanting to affect the battles that follow."
"Okay, then what about now?"
Tubaker's brown face looked tight in the candlelight, with a ritual scar on his cheek.
Garmozejie took a long breath.
"Well, I'll just say it, just like us, if I'm not wrong, the Astral Knights are the remnants of the forgotten Eleven Legion in the past."
Tubaker's eyebrows trembled, but he controlled his situation well.
"Yes, I actually have some guesses about this, and it is not difficult to analyze these from the information you have collected."
"And Pai Shangxing--"
Garmozejie twitched his nose.
"The flagship of their legion should be hidden."
"You mean that ship is the flagship of the Eleventh Legion!?"
Tubaker's voice seemed surprised.
"Where are they hiding in such a big boat?"
"I don't know this, but I can't think of anything except the legion flagship. Moreover, the Venerable said that the whereabouts of the Eleventh Legion were unknown when it fell."
"Do you think it's related to the Hellfire Stone?"
"Just speculation, but it's meaningless now. He should have gotten the flagship."