The whole incident ended with Angron pinning Konrad Curze to the ground.
The moment Angron extended his psychic power beyond his body, he felt it—he felt the cold gaze within Konrad Curze's heart.
It was Konrad, yet it wasn't him.
The sinister gaze pierced straight into Angron's heart, like a cold-blooded viper lurking in the shadows, trying to tightly coil around Angron when he was most relaxed.
After the shock, Angron ultimately relied on his powerful psychic strength to soothe the darkness within Konrad Curze's heart.
Even so.
[Data Impact!]
System AI clearly felt Angron's mind being attacked.
While quietly cursing Konrad Curze, that damned lunatic, he freed up processing power to convert the assaulting force into data packets and store them!
"nail... what were those?"
[What?]
System AI did not know what Angron was talking about.
"I saw... what Konrad saw."
Angron lay on top of Konrad Curze, his eyes filled with sorrow.
They were fleeting fragments, illusions: Rogal Dorn with a severed arm, noble and perfect Imperial sons transforming into hideous, twisted creatures.
Everything.
And in the very end, Angron saw himself, his ugly self... madness, rage, and... incomprehensibility!
"Konrad Curze..."
Angron let out a muffled snort.
"Have you been tormented by these things all this time?"
Angron's voice was filled with sorrow.
Konrad Curze, his face swollen, blinked his eyes, staring at Angron in disbelief.
"You saw it? My brother?"
"Yes."
Angron nodded slowly.
Angron slowly got up and extended his hand.
"Brother!"
"For Konrad Curze!!!!!!!!"
Before Konrad Curze could extend his hand, he saw one of his scions kicking towards Angron's chest, both feet together, launching through the air.
Konrad saw a familiar face—Shen.
One of his aides, one of the few warriors on Nostramo with a noble spirit.
Shen landed a solid kick on Angron's chest, and then... Angron grabbed the little bat's leg and casually flung him away.
At this moment, Angron looked at the extremely chaotic scene, where the Night Lords and the War Hounds were fighting fiercely.
"Enough!"
Angron spoke.
He endured the pain brought by those emotions, which quickly vanished.
"Thanks, nail!"
[You are welcome, unit two!]
Konrad Curze firmly grasped Angron's hand.
"Your planet needs liberation, my brother. Do you need help?"
"Perhaps a little help."
Konrad Curze was silent for a long time.
When his hoarse voice sounded again, Konrad Curze's mood was somewhat brighter this time.
"Alright, my scions, your communication with your cousins must end."
Angron shouted toward the Redeemer Guard.
Hearing Angron's words, Varys moved his metal scepter away from Sevatar's swollen face.
"You wait!"
Sevatar opened his eyes and glared venomously at Varys.
"Sorry, brother.
If you're not satisfied, I'll see you in the octagonal cage."
Varys extended his hand.
He didn't care if Sevatar held a grudge.
Sevatar gripped Varys's hand fiercely.
"Sevatar, your name!"
"Varys."
"Name a time, Varys."
"Anytime, my brother."
With no light, the Night Lords and the War Hounds followed side-by-side behind Konrad Curze and Angron.
Conversing in low voices, they seemed to have completely shed the animosity of their previous fight.
Every step Angron took, he felt himself descending into the abyss of the world that was Nostramo.
Yes, every single step.
Gothic architecture loomed in the darkness like horrifying abominations, seemingly warning Angron and his group of outsiders that they should not set foot here.
Angron felt only oppression—the people, the city, and the entirety of Nostramo.
"Do you rule your people through fear?"
Angron asked.
His words caused Konrad Curze's body to tremble slightly, a subtle movement that put the demigod's scions behind them on high alert.
Sevatar stared intently at Varys in the rear.
If any further change occurred, Sevatar would rush over immediately to teach this sorcerer what a Night Lord was.
He was very vengeful.
"I use order."
Konrad Curze's words were extremely pale, so pale that when he turned his gaze onto Angron, Angron felt as if he had been targeted by a vampire.
"Fear is not order, my brother."
"The people here... are quite dark."
Angron paused, just like the world itself.
These humans, who had endured high pressure for a long time, and the evil they were forced to bury deep within their hearts under the name of the Night Haunter, did so for no other reason than the fear of death.
Even evildoers fear death—it truly felt like a joke.
"How much do you know about your planet?"
Angron asked.
"Everything?"
Konrad Curze moved his lips.
The moment he saw Angron's gaze fixed on him, he shrank his neck.
"Everything?! My brother! You tell me everything! Hahahaha! How long has it been since you returned!"
Angron clenched his teeth, veins bulging savagely on his face.
The Butcher's Nails were constantly flashing green fluorescence, like a breathing light.
"I need to show you something, my brother."
Angron closed his eyes.
He was suddenly afraid—afraid that after he left Nuceria, the Slave Masters and vermin would once again occupy their former positions.
When he received the information System AI gave him.
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