40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 163 24. One-day War (2)

It turns out that Conrad Coates was right.

The blood-red sky gradually turned into pure darkness at a speed visible to the naked eye. The wind howled, the sound was like the murmur of ghosts. VanCleef turned his head and stared intently at the location of his primarch, trying to ask more questions.

However, he did not see Conrad Curze, he only saw flames.

Fire, dark fire.

——Coming from afar, sweeping in from the end of the horizon.

The rocks, cities and land were all turned into broken and blackened rotting corpses. Trembling, screaming, roaring in the flames, the sound of resentment is endless. The first company commander straightened his back, his two hearts beating rapidly.

His mind was shocked by the illusion and fell into stagnation. But it didn't last long. The illusion was forced back by the power surged in his blood in the next second, and the 'reality' turned into a dazzling aurora and came into view.

Van Cleef clenched his fists and his body trembled uncontrollably. The world in front of him was changing. The night was dark, the air was condensed, and it was as quiet as a cemetery. The sun was brutally murdered by the sudden surge of night, and there was no longer any light.

He didn't understand what was going on, but he could 'see' it.

He could see the real appearance of the world now - a cemetery, a scorched earth cemetery that was continuously burned by flames and the dead screamed and screamed.

Is this true?

Van Cleef questioned himself rationally, but still didn't get an answer. He stared at the flames, his eyes seemed to be burning. Conrad Coates' voice came from his ears the next second, bringing an unparalleled sense of reassurance.

"What did you see, VanCleef?" the Primarch asked calmly.

Van Cleef tried to answer, but couldn't. Curze stared at him, nodded slowly, and said nothing. Van Cleef saw the change in him—Conrad Coates, who used to be gentle and polite, now seemed focused and dangerous.

The primarch raised his head thoughtfully and looked toward the sky. The sky was dark, and a gloomy crescent moon was vaguely visible behind the dark clouds. It exudes cold light, which does not dispel the darkness, but instead makes it more and more dark.

Van Cleef heard the communication channel begin to rustle, and the gloomy buzzing continued. One name after another popped up on the eyepiece, and he connected to the communication channel - they passed by quickly like mercury, but Van Cleef See every name clearly.

He opened his mouth and found it difficult to breathe. Conrad Coates was still standing beside him, seemingly ignorant of what was happening, but his expression was so stern that he didn't look like himself.

——How could he know nothing about the current situation?

These visions had nothing to hide from him. Conrad Coates saw through the fire and darkness, and clearly saw the overturned tomb and the dead rising again. They were covered in flames and their faces were pale.

Revenant.

But it was not the ghosts of the Harkossians, but the souls of the Eighth Legion.

The realization made him feel suffocated. Curze felt as if his neck had been pierced by a cold iron hook, and a bundle of rotten ropes was tied to the top of the hook to hang him up.

Breathing hurts, thinking hurts. So he stood quietly, taking deep breaths slowly, but there was a hollow sound in his ears.

The darkness had no intention of letting him go, and there was no way around Konrad Curze.

He was forced to listen - and by the fifth second he had already realized that it was a carol. At the tenth second, he understood the language of the chanters without any instruction in a few low and coherent syllables. At the fifteenth second, he began to immerse himself in it. Those syllables had magic power, taking him to a quiet place.

He came to a palace made of stone.

The cold wind howled, and it was empty inside. The ground was covered with thick dust, even reaching the ankles of his iron boots. Many of them are already floating in the wind, shaped like pale ashes.

Conrad Coates walked forward, and the suffocating feeling began to become stronger, but he remained unmoved and felt an extreme sense of calm. He moved forward, his footsteps monotonous, rhythmic among the carols.

Finally, he saw a throne full of cracks. Khalil Lohars stood beside the throne, his back turned to him.

"Are you going to explain it?" Conrad Coates asked, with a rare bitterness in his voice. "I didn't see this."

"Of course," Khalil replied. "This is a temple, this is a throne for the gods to rest."

He turned around, his expression as calm as ever, and Curze grinned sarcastically: "How many more times are you going to make that look, Khalil?"

"Not until I'm done, Konrad," the armored giant replied calmly. "I want to end this war as quickly as possible. We cannot be dragged into the quagmire. There are three planets in Harkossus."

"And one man cannot end the war on his own." Conrad Coates said slowly. He stared at Khalil closely, as dangerous as a wounded beast, with sharp eyes. "No one can do this."

He emphasized the pronunciation of the word '人'.

Khalil smiled.

"You are alluding to something, Conrad, do you know where this is?"

"I don't know, I just know you said it was a temple."

"Yes, it is a temple, an underground temple built by the aliens of Harkossus and forgotten by them. This temple belongs to the God of Fire. For centuries, Harkossus No. 1 The aliens on the planet have always maintained their devout beliefs and have not changed. They offer sacrifices once every five years and plead once every five years.”

"You see those dust floating in the air? They are not dust, Konrad, they are the remains of the dead, one of the proofs of their faith. In the ancient legend of the aliens of Harkossus I "In "

"You sound like you're telling a fairy tale."

"This is a fairy tale, Conrad, just a fairy tale of aliens."

"So, what's with that curse?"

"It. It's just like it sounds, it's a curse. The aliens in Harkossus cannot reproduce through normal means. If they want to grow the population, they must infect humans through some kind of ritual. This ritual , is called drawing fire into one’s body.”

"After completing the ritual, all new Harkossian aliens will be born and naturally have faith in the God of Fire. They will devoutly maintain this faith until their death."

"So, where is that god?" Konrad Coze stared at Khalil and spoke softly. "The God of Fire, right? Where is He?"

"He doesn't exist," Khalil said quietly. "Even if the beliefs that have been sealed for centuries are activated, even if Harkossus No. 1 has become a kingdom of God on earth because of these beliefs, He does not exist."

".The kingdom of God on earth?"

"Yeah." Khalil nodded at him. "The Kingdom of Gods on earth. A world that was briefly transformed by faith and became the residence and realm of gods, where its gods can do anything."

"anything?"

"anything."

Conrad Curze walked toward him. His expression looked like he was deep in thought, but Khalil knew he wasn't. Konrad Kurtz didn't need to think for such long periods of time; his extraordinary intelligence allowed him to process anything in a matter of seconds.

He is angry.

The giant, who had a face similar to his and was equally pale, walked under the throne and spoke slowly.

"What on earth are you doing?" he asked in a spicy tone. "Don't you trust the Legion? Do you think they really need you to be this ridiculous god? You-"

"—No one needs gods." Khalil replied in a low voice. "But that's the thing, Konrad. You can't ignore something that already exists, just like when we were on Nostramo, we couldn't ignore its foul air, stinking acid rain, and ubiquitous murder. . Now, we are standing on Harkossus One. You have seen what the God of Fire has done. Do you want to deny his existence?"

"I just want to know what price you have to pay again! For this damn shabby chair!" Konrad Curze roared and pointed at the cracked throne, and Khalil saw disappointment in his eyes.

He tried to smile, and this time, he failed.

".I don't know yet." In the end, he chose to answer this way. "But I'll tell you."

As soon as the words fell, Conrad Coates disappeared. Khalil closed his eyes and sat back. The throne rose and caught him just in time. The howling cold wind stopped in an instant, and a questioning voice sounded later.

"God. Why do you help the enemy?"

Khalil didn't answer, but slowly opened his eyes.

That second finally arrived, and the gears of destiny stuck by the covenant began to turn. From the moment he sat on this throne, he could never look back. The curtain shook, furious at the scene.

But it couldn't find Khalil, and Tzeentch thoughtfully made all preparations, including even deceiving the Veil with a false god's name so that it couldn't find Khalil right away.

He is right.

He doesn’t need to win because He simply can’t lose.

"Oh God——!" Billions of voices spoke together, and the ghosts of the aliens in Harkossus screamed. All the aliens who have sacrificed their lives for the Fire God over the centuries are here. They howl, shout, scream - they question.

Question the gods they believe in.

"Why don't you help us? Why don't you light a fire and burn our curse?! Liar! False God!"

"Because I'm not God."

Khalil Lohars sat on the soon-to-be-broken throne and spoke calmly.

"I am not your god, nor do I act according to your myths. But if you want to hate me and take revenge on me, I will also agree."

There was a roar and the dead souls rushed towards him. Faith faded, throne shattered, he stood up.

The face of the skeleton climbed up like a shadow, covering the pale face. Black flames suddenly ignited in the eye sockets, and the god jumped down from the remains of the throne and rushed towards his dead loyal servants.

Two chapters left, ten thousand today.