40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 189 14. Melted Steel (2)

This is a right hand protected by pale armor like bones.

The material that forms its appearance does not appear to have anything to do with steel. The extremely pale whiteness and the gloomy night-like darkness are mixed together. The lines are not sharp, and even give people a sense of slowness.

At this moment, it was displayed flatly in front of Perturabo, and there was a ring above the palm of his hand.

The wrinkles between Perturabo's brows began to become more and more profound, as if someone had struck hard with a carving knife. He could tell without thinking that the ring was made of fine gold.

It is very wide, a size suitable for the original body. The surface of the ring has dark lightning patterns, which are as dazzling as thunder in the night under the pale light.

"What does this mean?" Perturabo asked, staring at Khalil closely.

"This is a meeting gift prepared for you by your brother Konrad Kurtz." Khalil replied calmly - in fact, judging from the emotion he just showed, he was almost too calm at the moment. , like the last trace of stability before the storm.

"He expected that you don't need weapons, and the same goes for armor. But he can't come in person, because Nostramo still needs to be carefully guarded. This galaxy is too big, and it is better to stay down to earth. "

"So, he chose to create a jewelry for you, made by his own hands. He spent a period of time learning how to smelt and forge. This ring took him three weeks, almost without sleep. Therefore, Take it, Perturabo."

The giant who came from Olympia and regarded himself as a steel giant did not immediately take the gift that represented brotherhood. He just slowly clenched his fists, as if he was trying to endure some emotion.

He made an effort, but it was not enough to erase some of the flaws in his own nature. Emotions that could be described as a storm began to bloom on his face bit by bit, and finally turned into a roar.

"Are you insulting me?!" Perturabo roared and glared, his hands trembling, and the urge to use violence was clearly evident on his face.

"Take out my brother's gift at this time? What tricks are you playing, Khalil Lohars? If you plan to do it, just come directly. Luojia and I are different!"

"No, dear Perturabo, I have no intention of taking action." Khalil replied slowly, with no expression on his pale face under the hood.

"As you said, this will create a diplomatic accident. Beating a Primarch on his flagship, leaving him bleeding, forehead swollen, fingers bent, ribs broken. This kind of thing will probably provoke the Emperor. The emperor’s attention.”

silence.

Dead silence.

Perturabo gritted his teeth and made no more sound. His rationality was shattered, and at one moment Khalil was convinced that his words had had an unspeakably violent effect on Perturabo.

He could see the majestic anger in the other person's eyes, but Perturabo held back.

He actually held back.

"Get out." He spit out one word through his teeth, and then more. "Keep that gift and leave my ship with my brother's legions, Khalil Lohars. Leave now, while I retain my sanity."

"The Sigil Bearer has ordered us to come to your aid," Khalil said.

He paid no attention to the insulting words used by Perturabo, but he did not give him the gift, but still maintained the gesture of extending his right hand, looking like a statue.

His right hand didn't even tremble.

"You still have thirty seconds." Perturabo looked at him gloomily. "I only give you thirty seconds to leave the hall. If you refuse or exceed this time, then you will be responsible for the consequences."

"as a result of?"

"Yes, consequences." The original body smiled, and the emotions aroused by the poison turned into words flowed between his eyebrows. This emotion was by no means beautiful. "You absolutely cannot afford the consequences. Fifteen seconds to go, Khalil Lohars."

"What are you going to do?" Khalil tilted his head slightly and looked at Perturabo. "Order your legion to attack us? Or take out the weapons you have prepared to attack me?"

"Five seconds."

Khalil finally smiled, shook his head, and put away the ring in front of Perturabo. The face of bones climbed up from the shadows, turning his face into a ferocious skull.

"Keep reading."

The strange sound that had been transformed by the armor sounded in the empty hall. It was hollow and unknown, not like the sound that humans could make. In fact, even the changes brought about by the breathing grille of the power armor cannot be compared with this sound.

It is not a force generated by technology. It sounded more like the roar of some monster from the ancient wilderness and the long night.

Khalil began to step forward and spoke softly.

"I changed my mind."

"I am not going to deliver this gift to you. This ring belongs to Conrad Curze's brother Perturabo. It belongs to Fulgrim, who has a slightly eccentric personality, but is definitely considered a good man. Turabo.”

"And you, in my opinion, are just an extreme and stupid child."

The next second, a heavy loud noise broke out in the hall.

The sound came from Perturabo's right fist and Khalil's left arm armor. The turbulent storm turned into a shock wave visible to the naked eye and swept through the entire hall from where the fist and arm armor came into contact. The scene was so exaggerated that it was hard to believe. Imagine.

But Perturabo did not stop. He bent down with a gloomy expression, flipped his left fist, and struck out with a spin. His target was his jaw, but his attack didn't work this time. A hand lightly grabbed the wrist of his left hand before his attack hit.

"Go and pierce the armor," the skeleton advised gently. "Also remember to grab weapons, or anything else you need, bring them all with you."

"You are really a madman." Perturabo retracted his arm sullenly and broke free from the shackles of that hand. The process was easy and natural, and Khalil did not struggle with him. "What's in it for you, Khalil Lohars?"

"Nothing good comes of it."

"Yes, no good will come of it," snapped Perturabo. "My hearing is fine, so what you just said was asking for a duel with me."

"You challenge me to a duel over one of my officers who has neglected his duty? Don't you think it's a little ridiculous? Do you think Sergeant Elteros will be grateful for this, or will his brothers be grateful for it?" A little bit grateful to you?"

"They won't, they accept me and what I bring to the table. I want them to be warriors with an iron will and that's the path they're taking and no one will regret it or anything. Some people will feel wrong about this.”

"You are judging my legion from an outsider's perspective. Who gave you this right? And on what basis did you decide to deprive me of the gift my brother gave me?"

Under the skeletal helmet, Khalil smiled silently.

"You talk too much, Perturabo." He sighed peacefully. "Although it sounds like you are trying to overwhelm me with the argument and eliminate this possible bloodshed and diplomatic accident, but..."

He chuckled.

The laughter was twisted and terrifying, echoing through the halls. The laughter was fueled by its hollowness, and Perturabo's extraordinary hearing made it impossible for him to miss a single detail.

At this moment, he accurately captured the disdain and contempt contained in the laughter. They are genuine, and the evidence of their existence is frighteningly clear.

"To me, this sounds more like the rhetoric you used to convince yourself. Are you feeling guilty, my dear Lord of Steel, Son of Olympia, the Great Perturabo?"

"If you are really confident and think what you are doing is right, why do you say so many words to me? You could just drive me away like a real winner instead of here Hold on and look tough, making people laugh."

Perturabo exhaled a slow breath, so long it felt as if he had breathed out his own lungs.

His emotions began to fluctuate, starting from his face, to the uniform he had obviously put on temporarily for the meeting, and his chest began to rise and fall rapidly.

And Khalil could foresee its outbreak early on. In fact, his previous actions were for this purpose.

He just wants the storm to come.

He and Perturabo had just met for less than twenty minutes, and even if the time spent communicating with each other in orbit was included, it would never have been more than forty minutes. But he already had a considerable understanding of Perturabo, not from experience or anything else, but from a keen insight tempered by past experiences.

He probably already knew that Perturabo's anger always broke out suddenly. And he will keep trying to suppress it, unless he really can't help it.

Underneath the skeleton, Khalil's smile began to become more obvious.

"You will regret it." After taking a deep breath, the Primarch of the Iron Warriors said.

"I come from Olympia. I spent my youth as a craftsman, a scientist, and a promoter of knowledge. But that doesn't mean I'm not good at fighting. I'm not like Lorgar, Khalil Rohars. You will soon be Understand that what I said is true, and I will avenge him.”

"Yeah?"

"Yes," Perturabo answered grimly. "Since you insist on asking for this unnecessary fight, since you have thrown my reason, my concession, and my tolerance to the ground, then I will personally take that ring back from you."

"It no longer belongs to you." Khalil replied with a hint of regret.

There is one more chapter.