Sydria took a steadying breath, her gaze sweeping over her panions. “We still have a ce. If we kill her and recover her soul stone, we might sever the grip Chaos has on her. ull her back from the abyss. It’s our only ce to save her—and ourselves.”

  One of the rangers muttered bitterly, “And the humans? What use are they? They hide behind their fortress walls and shake with fear. They couldn’t stand against even a few rangers, let alone Rosina.”

  “There are so many of them,” er muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. “Every human life requires just one well-pced shot. When they gather, a burst of psychiergy destroy them in one fell swoop. Mon-keigh are perfect targets—ugly, crude, barbaric. Their faces ck elegaheir existence devoid of beauty. Rosina must be delighted to turn these vulgar monkeys into red mist.”

  Sydria silenced him with a sharp look. “Their fws may amuse Rosina, but we use their preseo our advahey’ll distract her, drawing her firepower, and that gives us our opening. Humans are irely useless. They may ck grace, but their strict anization and discipline make them formidable. An army, even a human one, do what we ot alone. Rosina may overpower us, but with their support, we stand a ce. Besides,” she added with a sigh, “their fortress received reinforts. Some of them are surprisingly capable warriors. Yes, they’re crude and vulgar, but they’re the only allies we have. The situation is dire—we no longer have the luxury of choice.”

  Sydria’s voice grew firm as she addressed her rangers. “I know I led you here. I am responsible for what’s happened, but I will do everything in my power to ensure you leave this p alive. Please, trust me as you always have.”

  er stepped forward, his voice resolute. “I have walked darker paths, but a ranger does not fear the shadows.”

  Another echoed, “My eyes are yours to guide, and my rifle follows your and.”

  A sudden sound carried on the wind—a series of coded signals, part of the rangers’ prearranged unication. Sydria tilted her head, listening ily, then smiled. “Good news,” she said, her voice lifting with rare optimism. “Our human allies have found Rosina’s hiding pce.”

  The mood among the rangers shifted instantly. Words of encement, no matter how heartfelt, could never pare to the power of aable intelligence. After days of enduring Rosina’s relentless assaults, they finally had a target. Rangers were never meant to stand passively, waiting for aable attack. They were hunters, not prey. The despair of being forced into ina lifted, repced by a fierce desire to strike back.

  With renewed morale, the rangers quickly fell into formation. Guided by Kayvaan, they moved swiftly toward the underground a city, their pace relentless. When they reached the gates, they found two massive bolter turrets mounted on armored tuarding the entrance. Each turret was manned by servitors, their soulless mind keeping the ons trained on anything that moved. The dual bolter ons were devastating, capable of firing 6,000 explosive rounds per miheir relentless firepower could turhe most armored enemies into sm ruin. Though stationary, they provided an imperable defense for key positions.

  Kayvaan whistled, his tone light. “Well, I didn’t expect Gustav t these beauties along.” Internally, however, he cursed. ‘Gustav, you idiot. Why set this up so early? What if you scare the Eldar into refusing to go in?’

  The turrets were an intimidating sight. Their presence alone could deter most foes, and their overwhelming firepower ehat anything brave—or foolish—enough to approach would be reduced to ash. If Rosina were on the surface, she will surely escaped, but than she wouldn’t have been able to evade the rangers for so long. Uher rangers, she couldn’t simply crawl into a hidden crevice to wait out the search. Her pns required something far more eborate—a dark altar, essential for dug the vile rituals o open a gate.

  The ritual wasn’t as simple as spilling blood or corpses. Each sacrifice—be it a body, blood, or a soul stone—had to be meticulously prepared. To offer them carelessly would risk offending the Chaos Gods, a bsphemy even Rosina wouldn’t dare it. Chaos summoning rituals, especially those involving the opening of dimensional gates, demarict adhereo detail: the pt of dles, the preparation of sacrifices, the drawing of intricate runes, and the precise intation of spells. All these requirements made a quiet, secure, and spacious location essential.

  The underground a city provided the perfeviro for such work. Its byrinthine corridors shielded Rosina from dete, expining why the rangers had failed to locate her.

  The moment the raepped forward, the air erupted with the deafening roar of bolter fire. Kayvaan reflexively ducked, his bat-honed instincts screaming at him to hit the ground. But he quickly realized he was well outside the turrets’ range and straightened up, relieved that he hadn’t embarrassed himself by overreag. The ranger, however, reacted with agility one would expect from the Aitoc. He dropped to the ground in a fluid motion, rolled to the side, and sprang up behind a rock. His movements were seamless, a mastercss in evasive a. Yet, despite the impressive dispy, no one paid him any attention. The rangers remained focused ouation at hand.

  The turrets weren’t firing at the rangers. Their barrels were aimed ihe dungeorance, unleashing a relentless barrage of explosive shells. From the a was impossible to see what they were targeting, but the sound of the gunfire was a chilling reminder of the destructive force those ons wielded.

  The first hint of the enemy came in the form of a deep, guttural roar. Emerging from the shadows of the a city’s gates was a creature that seemed plucked straight from nightmare—a t beast with the head of a bull, the body of a man, and cloven hooves. Its bed, sinewy muscles gleamed uhe dim light, and its hulking frame stretched nearly three meters tall. In one hand, it effortlessly wielded a massive axe.

  The creature—resembling the Minotaur of human myth—lowered its horned head and charged toward the bolter turrets like an enraged bull. The ground trembled uhe beast’s thunderous steps, its sheer mass radiating raw power. It moved as though nothing could stand in its way, as though even the mightiest walls would crumble beh its charge.

  The Vul bolter turrets swiveled slightly, their movements almost casual, as if swinging a massive whip. The explosive-tipped rounds shredded the beast’s body with terrifying precision. Bright blood sprayed into the air as the Minotaur staggered, its charge abruptly halted. The sheer force of the gunfire left its massive frame quaking untrolbly, and another arc of fire tore through it, splitting the creature in two. Within moments, the monstrosity was reduced to a gory ruin.

  Even as the turrets recalibrated, more Minotaurs surged forth from the depths of the city, their roars eg across the battlefield. Each carried massive axes, their numbers multiplying by the sed.