Seraphs of the Emperor’s Judgment

Chapter 110: Preliminary Selection (1)

But on second thought, Bahram felt surprised and fearful of the anger he had generated.

He turned his face away, no longer looking at those people, and instead searched for those boys who were like him.

But no matter how hard he looked, he still couldn't see any other people from the lower hive.

Suddenly, a pair of sturdy arms hugged him.

"Who!?"

Bahram let out a shriek, drawing nervous laughter from the crowd.

He turned around, ready to give a good beating to whoever dared to provoke him. The immense fear currently pressuring him had made him somewhat neurotic.

"Let me go!"

Bahram roared, swinging his arms and abruptly turning around.

"Hey! It's me!"Appearing before him was Haomo with his mouthful of large yellow teeth and bad breath.

"Haomo?"

At this time he noticed that behind Haomo were about twenty other boys. Judging from both their temperaments and appearances, they should all be from the bottom of the hive.

"This guy is named Bahram. He's also a hive-punk. I carried him on my back from below the cliffs all the way to Greycliff Town."

Haomo turned his head and said to the nearest boy. But that boy raised an eyebrow, indicating he wasn't interested in this, and then looked away.

Bahram took a glance. That guy's arms were as thick as Bahram's calves. On his face, bearing two intersecting scars, grew a pair of triangular eyes that looked exceptionally ferocious. And on his bald head was a black viper tattoo—without a doubt, he was also from a lower-hive gang.

More crucially, this guy was almost two heads taller than Bahram. He seriously suspected this person was already over-aged.

"I found out that today, tomorrow, and this entire week are all trials."

Haomo ungrudgingly shared the intelligence he had gathered.

"Today is the time for the Preliminary selection."

"I also heard that the Angels will select five hundred people from here and take them to the true testing grounds."

Another boy also stepped forward. He looked somewhat melancholic, but seeing his fingers constantly twitching at his waist, Bahram inferred that this person must be an expert knife-wielder.

He had once seen a very famous knife-fighter. When he stood, his fingers would twitch continuously just like this.

"After the trials finish, I estimate no more than a hundred people will remain. Perhaps even fewer."

"Think about it, we all spent so much effort just to get here. What happens if we fail the Preliminary selection?"

Haomo shook his head.

"How miserable that would be."

"But it's still better than failing during the trials. At least those eliminated in the Preliminary selection get to live."

"They'll kill the failures?"

Bahram asked curiously.

"I don't know."

The melancholic boy responded with an uncertain tone:

"But at least those who get eliminated here can still go home."

"Then I absolutely cannot fail."

Hearing Bahram's words, the others all laughed dryly.

After experiencing a series of tribulations, none of them were as arrogant as before, but they still welcomed Bahram to join their ranks.

Clang— Clang— Clang—

Suddenly, three tolls of the bell rang out. The boys all turned their heads.

Right at this moment, the Emperor's emotionless face was also bathed in fire-like sunlight.

That pair of bronze double doors was pushed open. Accompanied by a burst of exquisite and pure horn blasts, twenty people clad in red robes walked out from the main hall.

Their faces were completely hidden under hoods. They loudly chanted hymns in an eerie language, and as they walked, they used Censers to spread incense smoke all around the platform.

These red-robed figures stood in a circle around the platform, one person every five yards. When they were all in position, they stopped chanting and lowered their hoods behind their heads, revealing faces fully covered in traces of augmentations.

"They are priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus."

Bahram said in awe. Meanwhile, the entire plaza was packed full of boys.

Silence descended all at once. The boys began to kneel down one by one, until eventually, everyone in the plaza was kneeling on the stone ground.

"Pay attention."

Haomo reminded in a low voice. At the same time, tall figures walked out from the main hall again.

"The Angels are here."

Only two people walked out. One of them wore bone-white armor and a gray tabard, with a velvet ribbon wrapped around his shoulder and a bulky machine worn on his right hand.

The other person was a giant clad in black battle armor, his body decorated with skulls, bones, and other objects symbolizing death.

Bahram felt somewhat puzzled. They were not wearing silver-gray armor like the Angel he had seen before.

These two individuals were not only clad in heavy armor, but were also superbly armed.

The warrior wearing a skull mask held a Scepter in his hand, its head sculpted into a winged skull. The one wearing white armor hung a serrated longsword at his waist.

Both of them carried a Pistol holstered on their thighs.

They were called Pistols, but they were already as large as the boys' chests.

Both warriors were at least two point three meters tall. The armor worn on their bodies made them appear even taller than that.

When they walked, their metallic boots striking against the stone produced loud resonant sounds. Driven by the mysterious animus within, their battle armor constantly hummed.

The crisp crashing sounds echoed across the plaza. Eventually, the Angels stopped at the top of the stairs.

At the same time, buzzing servo-skulls began hovering above the crowd, their artificial eyes continuously blinking.

A pair of mechanical cherubs followed closely behind, dragging a silken Chapter banner.

Finally, they stopped between the Emperor's feet, letting the banner drape over the double doors.

Both warriors wore their helmets.

The black-armored warrior stood behind, while the white-armored warrior stepped forward to deliver the message brought by the Angels.

"I am Brother Bariel."

Through the unfathomable technology within his helmet, the white-armored warrior's voice was transmitted all the way to the very end of the crowd.

Those boys born in the lower hive all trembled in terror. This voice was so clear, so perfect, that some even began begging for forgiveness or started crying uncontrollably.

"I am the Apothecary of the Adeptus Astartes, Astral Knights Chapter."

"I am Yazdan."

Following that, the black-armored warrior took over the conversation. His voice was as deep as a death knell.

"Also of the Adeptus Astartes, Chaplain of the Astral Knights Chapter, and the arbiter of the Preliminary selection. I shall decide whether you possess the qualifications to proceed from here to the testing grounds. There, our Chapter Master will preside over your Final selection. The vast majority of you shall be eliminated."

With that said, they swept their helmet lenses over this group of nervous boys.

Yazdan's gaze briefly paused on Bahram.

Even though this stare was brimming with pressure, the boy unblinkingly matched his gaze, although he could not sense any emotion from it.