40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 127 30. Resurrection from the Cemetery (Part 2)

The mist is thick and the cold is bone-chilling. Heat rolled away from the wall, the light source was dim, and footsteps sounded softly from outside the iron wall. After a series of complex examinations, Jairzinho Guzman finally entered the interior of the medical hall.

He had finished his duty today two hours ago, but that didn't mean he needed to rest.

Any Astartes can maintain high energy for a long time with their enthusiasm, not to mention, healing those who can still be saved in Quintus is the same as rest for the medical officer.

Treating the illnesses of mortals is much easier than dealing with the injuries sustained by Astartes from war, and sometimes even just one or two courses of medicine are needed to restore them to health.

In the past, Jairzinho Guzmán had only used his medical skills and compassion on his brothers.

Generally speaking, the Eighth Legion appreciated the former and despised the latter. Therefore, if you are serving as a medical officer or apothecary within the 8th Legion, I suggest you discard any thought of being thanked for healing a patient.

Now it was different. He healed many people in Quintus, and they expressed their gratitude by kneeling down and touching the ground with their foreheads. Guzman hated this approach, but he couldn't resist them.

How could he refuse the gratitude of others?

The civilians in Quintus would only express their gratitude in this way. Guzman did not like to kneel down, but he would accept their gratitude. As for now, he only hopes that those ultramarines can build public schools faster.

Stopping in front of the corpse shrouded in black cloth, Jairzinho Guzman lowered his head and expressed his respect for the corpse. Two weeks have passed and his duty schedule has even been transferred twice.

Apart from him, the hall is still empty, which is normal. The place is temporarily under martial law. Brothers of the Legion can enter, but only one person can enter at a time.

Guzman and all the medical officers agreed with Conrad Coates's announcement of the order, but they also mentioned another incident invariably.

"He needs a cemetery." Medical officer Malan said in their small conference room two hours ago. "The medical hall looks like that, but we all know it's just what it looks like. We all did go visit him though."

"The Primarch did not ask for his burial," retorted another. "And I'm sure the instructor himself doesn't want to be buried in a coffin."

"You sound as if you know him very well." Malan retorted with a sneer. "But we actually all know that you were knocked down when he looked at you when you walked into the cage, right?"

The conversation ended here, and after that, there was a fight - this behavior would be called a 'customary exchange of martial arts' within the legion, but in fact everyone knew tacitly what this was about. One thing.

And if someone on one side of the fight feels that this is still not enough, he will continue to attack the other side through various means within the next seven days. Sometimes this behavior affects others as well.

This is why there are so many small medical bays on the Nightfall.

Thinking about these things, Guzman exhaled a breath of white mist. He still lowered his head, as if he was in quiet contemplation.

But Guzman wasn’t actually thinking, he was just lost in thought—that’s what a quiet environment always feels like.

Unknowingly, his perception was magnified, and those tiny details that he had always ignored in the past now came back with a vengeance, speaking uncontrollably and laughing wildly from the corner of his eye with their unique insect chirping. His thoughts sank deeper and deeper until he entered a certain other side.

Until a door opens.

Jairzinho Guzman fell into extreme silence.

The mist transformed little by little, turning into a thick white mist on the dark metal ground. The cold penetrated the protection of scientific power within the power armor, reached his back, and stung his bone marrow. His eyes began to sting, but he could no longer close them.

He could try, all he wanted, but there was no point in trying.

A power originating from behind the door controls this place.

Many times, coincidences are the funniest things. Guzmán can no longer think, this right has been taken away from him, but he can still hear, still see, and still feel.

The white mist gathered and there was no wind. Something - something ancient - was penetrating this cold mist and coming straight behind the door.

The temperature continued to drop and it was as dead as ice, causing the water mist on Guzman's exposed skin to condense and turn into fragile frost. His blood was also frozen, and this temperature was anything but ordinary. I don’t know how long it took before the chill finally slowly subsided.

The ability to think gradually returns and revives within the body. Jairzinho Guzman's eyes widened as a tsunami-like bombardment rushed through his mind.

He raised his head suddenly and saw that the corpse shrouded in black cloth had sat up.

There was blue light in its empty eye sockets, and black cloth had been draped on its body at some point. Its jaw opened and closed, and its teeth collided with each other. Along with the monotonous noise of clicking, a familiar voice also came to Guz. Man's ears.

That was the voice of Khalil Lohars.

"Hello," he said. "I hope I didn't scare you, Jairzinho."

To this, the medical officer responded with a violent shake.

——

"The situation is very bad," Khalil said.

"."

Conrad Coates glanced at the skull face under his hood without saying a word, and then nodded: "Yes, I can see that too."

"Are you kidding me, Conrad?"

"No," Conrad Coates answered quickly and clearly. "I was just curious as to why you lay there for two weeks."

"You want me to come back early?"

".No."

The skeleton nodded, and a strange sound came from his empty chest: "I also want to come back early, but the real world is not based on my will. It will not be created by my will. Change."

"You are talking to me with a skeleton that is still emitting high temperatures." Conrad Coates said quietly.

"You should change your words. This is my recovering body." Khalil raised his hand and supported his chin to prevent it from continuing to make a clicking sound when opening and closing.

Anyway, he doesn't have vocal organs now, so he can still speak without opening his mouth, but it just takes some getting used to.

".Recovering?" The leader of the Eighth Legion covered his face. "I'm not going to have vision problems just because I'm processing official documents. You're a skeleton now. How are you going to heal your wounds?"

"That's none of your concern, Conrad," the skull said. "Studying my current physical condition will do no good for your proper sanity."

"Proper sanity?"

"People need to stay awake." The skull looked at him quietly, the blue light in its eyes motionless, not like fire, but no different from solid ice.

"But don't be too sober. You have already seen one of those monsters, and this is not a good thing for you. Therefore, you need to be sober, but you also need to throw away part of your sanity appropriately."

"Are you telling me a riddle?"

Konrad Coze paused for a moment, put down his hands, looked at the corpse provocatively, and uttered two words heavily in Nostramo.

"Father?"

"."

This time it was the skeleton's turn to be silent.

"No, it's not a riddle." After a while, he spoke again. "Just a small warning, because those monsters in the dark will never give up."

"Then I will be the one who hunts monsters." Conrad Coze replied coldly. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the skeleton, his expression seemed to be exactly the same as that of someone. "What's more, this is a blood feud, and we will definitely take revenge."

"Revenge against whom?" Khalil asked.

"To the person, or thing, that made you like this."

"I will avenge myself. And that thing has already paid a heavy price."

Conrad Coates shook his head, crossed his hands, and sighed heavily.

"Look at what you look like now, Khalil, who is the one who paid the heavy price? You were lying in my room, covered in ashes and smoking. I will not lie to you, just like you Never lied to me, so I'll admit it to you that I almost went crazy."

"But you didn't."

"Only a little! Don't say that to me in that tone of voice that sounds so proud of you!" Conrad Coates roared. This was the first time he had shown such an air. "And you were just a hair away from actually dying, weren't you?!"

The skeleton was silent for a moment, and a certain will that dominated it spoke again after a long time. Such silence would be devastating to a normal conversationalist, but it did not apply to Konrad Coates. He had long been accustomed to Khalil Lohars' silence.

".If you are going to place your sanity on my life and death, Conrad, I will be very disappointed." The skeleton said calmly. "There is always something more important in this world."

He stood up and left the room, the hem of his black robe fluttering. After a long time, Conrad Coates sighed slowly.

"It's always like this," he said to someone outside the room. "Why are you always like this? You make sacrifices quietly and save some people who have no idea who you are."

There was a sigh outside the room. The sound should not have penetrated the wall, but it penetrated and reached the ears of the Lord of the Eighth Legion.

"Because I'm an arrogant fellow, Ghost," the voice hissed. "Too arrogant to even ignore them."

Midnight Ghost didn't answer.

Konrad Coates continued to work, his lips pursed, his expression unhappy.

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