The roomy space for a single Space Marine at a time and the stones that stretched at hundreds of speeds through the cracks felt solid under his feet, but Ragnar went unnoticed. Just carefully place one foot slowly in front of the other and slowly place your full weight on the forward moving leg. He didn't forget how heavy his armor was despite his agility and speed. You can also die from your feet. Ragnar knew that anything was possible when it came to the demonic spirits of the Chaos worshippers. The rock looked solid, but Ragnar wanted to be prepared in case the rock fell and threw him into the abyss below. If I die here, I want to die on the battlefield. This was the only way for the warriors. Where did this idea come from? Ragnar wondered as he felt the beast's stomach twist. Did we leave the temple before us? He felt something, but a cold, wet wind was blowing on his forehead. It flew out of the darkness like a beacon of invisible ghosts. He prayed to Russ and the Emperor for the

********FIGHTING BEGIN*****The screams of dying people were deaf to the muffler on the steering wheel. In the depths of his soul, drawn to the slaughter, the animal became stronger. Ragnar now fights on pure instinct. He didn't have to think. Animals were under control. Reflexes, nerves and tendons are in perfect harmony. His extremely keen senses responded with the speed of thought to every threat he sensed. At that moment, his fighting power was far beyond death. Nothing could block his way. Behind him, another bloody claw pierced through the rotting wood, a warped string like a slender, sharp axe. Horrible faces were hidden, screaming jaws open. A twisted corpse fell from his sword. A battle mace protruded from his armor. Strawberry Twist Stone. He had a good feeling and seemed to be getting closer in slow motion and seemed to be taking a long time to get out of the way in the world. He is rewarded with the scream of a man of the night who moves his head and enters the highway beh

Ragnar breathed. He recognized the place. It was a huge underground lake. He never thought he would be happy to see dirty water, but now he is. Seeing the water around his home island would not have pleased him then. Although strange and desolate, it was an important place where Ragnar recognized and knew he was on the right track. In recent years, he felt lost. When we reached the ground, the road looked completely different. Ragnar understood why. He was walking in a different direction now, experiencing the tunnels and caves from a different perspective than he had a few hours ago. In a word, it's boring. He was alone except for Strybjorn. All this changes his perception of the place, making it unfamiliar, intimidating and hostile. He shook his head, reminding her that this was really all there was to her. "Is this the pool of the dead?" asked Strivjorna in a whisper. Ragnar realized that his colleague was hallucinating."Not." Ragnar said. 'Not true. It's just a dirty, dirty pond

His damaged armor creaked and groaned under the pressure, and Ragnar remembered his personal gratitude for his master's careful handling of the ancient suit. It served him well in his first real mission. Ragnar smiled as he felt a heavy weight fall on his shoulders. I owe you my life three times today, Strybjorn, he thought. But now Ragnar has decided that he can only do it when both appear. Ragnar startled and climbed to the surface of the tunnel. He hoped it wasn't far. The cold night air hit Ragnar's face as if it came out of the mouth of the cave, adding a strange chemical smell that smelled of oil and kerosene. There was a time when even he wondered if it had occurred to her in her sick mind. It took another second to register that the entire area around the cave entrance had been cleared of vegetation. It took him a second to realize that fifty barrels were heading his way. His nostrils flared and he could smell his brother's bowels. most of them. "It's me, Ragna." he said, maki