The
soldiers at the convoy get out of the vehicles, trying to establish a security perimeter
but when almost all were outside the vehicles, the wolves arrived.
The first one didn’t
notice the exactly moment when his torso was severed, he didn’t have the enough
time for it.
‘For Russ and the
Allfather!’ shouted. The battle cry of the wolves emerged from the walls and
the near buildings.
Many of the guardsmen
tried to put in some defensive positions but the wolves were too fast, they
even can’t reach the positions or unholster their laspistols. It seemed that
the wolves were killing even with his sights.
+Focus on the traitors
that are trying to run+, voxed Örnen. +No survivors+.
One guardsman tried to
run to the way they came in first place but a clean shot exploded his head. Another
one tried to hide in some buildings but three shots in his torso killed him
instantly.
Grey Hunters were
butchering the enemies and the wolf scouts were killing all the guardsmen that
were trying to run, hide or scape. Certainly there will be no survivors that
day.
So certainly there were
only rumors and no true about the sorcery, thought Örnen. But then, the Taurox
exploded. Blue flames involved the Taurox and some death bodies started to
twist in strange forms.
Örnen run to get a
better position, he couldn’t see if the Adholr Adamek was still inside the
Taurox, he needed just a few seconds, he needed to kill the rebel leader before
the ritual was complete.
It was not supposed to
be a problem if he was a sorcerer, his magic couldn’t be so powerful and even
with some casualties they could manage him and kill him but it was work of the
scout team to minimize the casualties, to offer the better way to resolve the
battle.
They were the ear, the
nose, the eyes in advance; the first hunter at the field.
He run down to another
place with extreme agility, more than twenty hours down the snow were nothing
for an astartes, and less for a Sky Warrior.
He looked across the
sight, pointing to the broken door roof of the Taurox and there was Adholr
Adamk, involved in blue and green flames. The flames were covering him as a protection
shield but still shaking and trembling like normal fire.
‘There must be a single
hole’, said very lowly and slowly.
After just a few seconds
a gnarl showed one of his fangs, his know that his prey was doomed, he know
that everything will end with a single shot. He pressed slowly the trigger of
his sniper rifle, waiting just the exactly moment to pull it completely.
He
really liked the feeling, the moment previous the final shot. His inner beast
opened the jaws, showing the big fangs; his eyes looked more deeply, he smelled
with more intensity, he heard even the sound of the falling snow.
He
was made to kill.
But
above all, he was made to hunt.
Hunting
was his true way of war, hunting like the silent and strong blackmane, stalking
from the shadows only waiting for the moment to close the jaws and letting his
fangs to tear up the prey’s skin.
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