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The mastership of his craft was
impeccable.
Hell accompanied every swing.
Salvation from a life worthless and
purposeless followed every strike.
His spiteful blades demonstrated
their exoskeleton’s inferiority.
Severing limb after limb,
dismembering heads, dodging each and every webbing torpedo, Lieutenant Killarak
and his once out numbered faction spearheaded the extermination of Almasain
spider creatures until the entire vicinity was rid of them.
King Murderar ordered that the
Lieutenant and his faction were to conquer Almas’ southern sector, city by
city. Twenty-six more Messiahs provided reinforcements. Simultaneously, twenty-six cities were
destroyed. Lieutenant Killarak and his faction scoured the fresh ruins for
survivors to be used as slaves; unfortunately, the injured and fatally wounded
were of no use and therefore the unsympathetic Venom war official gladly
supervised and took part in ending their misery.
They left behind them the carnage
of forty-nine conquered cities before reaching the hive city of Bersand where
ahead in the near distance, an unimaginably numbered army of hornets, yellow
jackets, and dragonflies, didn’t hesitate to intercept the raging reptilian
outlanders.
Lieutenant Killarak never flinched.
He ran toward his opponents; his
opponents flew toward him.
Ignoring
the uncomfortably humid air’s smell and taste of burning flesh, he ran toward
his defining moment, toward the opportunity to create his legacy; governed by
all that was Melonite within him, with his bloodstained battle axes tightly
gripped, he ran — he ran in the direction of conquest.GET YOUR COPY TODAY!
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