40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 214 39. Friendly Communication (Two-in-One)

Khalil calmly watched the iron bird take off.

It did not rely on the flapping of its wings to obtain the power of flight. The four iron wings vibrated only because of the program setting. Rogal Dorn stood beside him, and stared at it with him, without saying a word.

The cold wind howled, and the hawking of merchants under the city wall came clearly. The devout believers who came here from afar knelt down here, and they usually had a book hanging around their waists.

It was the work of Lorgar Aurelion, who enjoyed the privilege of preaching in the empire where religion was strictly prohibited, which was very ironic.

Once this religion that worshipped the Emperor appeared, it quickly reacted to the long-standing trend of deifying the Emperor in the empire. The sects produced by the combination of the two were so complicated that it was unimaginable, but these believers got along with each other in a relatively harmonious way.

Dorn didn't know where this matter would eventually go, but for him, if this was the Emperor's tacit approval, then let it continue.

Faith makes the majority strong.

The Primarch of the Imperial Fists thought, looking up, watching the falcon disappear among the mountains, and then he looked away.

He looked at Khalil Rohals, whose expression made him feel a rare and rare impulse at this moment - Dorn did not suppress himself, he asked directly.

"You seem a little sad." He asked without questioning.

"Is it so obvious?" Khalil answered with a little surprise. "I thought I had concealed it well enough."

Dorn nodded and said nothing more, as if this sentence was enough.

He did not ask the reason, did not get to the bottom of it, and was even too lazy to say a word, just lowered his head and began to fiddle with the instrument in his hand. After a few minutes, he put it down. A young man in bright yellow armor came over.

He was wearing a MK3, but without a helmet. There was a very cautious expression on that face, and Dorn knew that it was not just because he was about to talk to his Primarch.

"My Lord." The young man greeted, his voice was very serious, almost like a battle report. "A group of barbarians are making trouble in the second labor residence."

"Where are they from?" Dorne asked briefly.

"From Dorhod." The young man said. "They asked us to distribute more food and money, otherwise they would go on strike."

"Have they been deducted from their wages?"

"As far as I know, no." The young man frowned. "They did a good job before, and we rewarded them according to regulations."

"Greed." Dorne shook his head. "Warn you once, and if you make trouble again, you will be punished by law."

"As you command." The young man lowered his head, saluted with the Sky Eagle, and left.

Dorn watched him go away and nodded slowly.

"Sigismund." He uttered a name, and his tone changed slightly.

"He's a new recruit, but he's very talented and has excellent grades. He has no complaints even if I make him the security supervisor instead of a company commander or sergeant. If everything goes well, he'll be able to join the main force in the sweep of the Taiping star region in about four months."

"Why did you mention this to me specifically?"

"He's just been observing you out of the corner of his eye, Khalil, don't say you didn't notice it."

"Is he curious about me?"

Dorn turned his head and glanced up and down at Khalil. This kind of look would be quite offensive to other people, but not to him.

Rog Dorn's upright character and his unswerving personality gave him more "tolerable" places. Khalil stood where he was, even raised his hand, and generously accepted the inspection.

"Your height." After the inspection, Dorn explained.

"This is the first reason he is curious about you. You are too tall, Khalil. I think maybe only Vulkan can compete with you in height, but you don't look strong."

"Most civilians who have never seen Astartes will suffer from a disease when they see them in person. This disease is called superhuman phobia. They will be afraid of Astartes and think that they are not human. Although there are many mistakes in this matter, it is still understandable. It is impossible for a civilian to understand the existence of Astartes."

Dorn paused for a moment, and his tone became a little less firm. He seemed to feel a little uncomfortable with what he was about to say, but he still forced himself to finish it.

"Astartes are far superior to them." The Primarch said with a little pain, and then quickly returned to normal.

"I don't like this statement, but it's true. For the Astartes, your existence will also trigger their superhuman phobia. You are too tall, not strong, but full of danger. And you are not the Primarch, this is obvious at a glance."

"Obviously?"

"Yes, obviously at a glance." Dorn sighed. "Anyone - even a barbarian who has never been literate, will realize something when seeing a Primarch. It's as if someone has set up a program for them, which will make worship, disgust and love surge from the bottom of their hearts."

"Then, the second point is that you are from the Midnight Blades and you are their instructor. Sigismund was born during the Unification War and he later became an orphan. A certain recruiting officer of the Eighth Legion once found He, but he was more compatible with my gene seed in the test, so he came to Imperial Fist. I'm afraid this is the second reason why he is curious about you."

"Is there a third point?" Khalil asked with a slight smile.

"Yes." Dawn nodded seriously. "You stand with me."

Khalil finally couldn't help but smile: "Some people actually said you have no sense of humor, Roger."

"Indeed I didn't." Dorn turned his head and continued to maintain his expressionless face. "I'm just trying to make you less sad."

"You've succeeded." Khalil replied softly. "Do you have any plans for the afternoon, Roger?"

"No, my work has basically been completed. I have submitted the design drawings of Terra's fortifications. If my father still needs it, he should send the Imperial Guard to me."

"Well, how about you do us a favor?"

——

A dense crowd surrounded a huge training cage. Four specially reinforced steel pillars supported its edges, and a spiked iron mesh formed the wall.

The flags of the Imperial Fist and the Midnight Blade were slowly fluttering directly above the training cage. Needless to say, you can understand what this venue is used for.

There were two warriors standing in the training cage. The man on the left was muscular and had a very obvious burn on his chest, which was the mark of the Imperial Fist. He was holding a blunt training sword in his hand.

The person standing on the right is very pale and thinner. His muscle lines looked smoother, his arms hung naturally, and the two short knives were close to his wrists.

"Give him a hard time, Shen." Saiweita said softly in the audience. "You are the first one to go on stage. If you lose, you are dead. Do you understand?"

Shen looked over without saying a word, his gaze lasting for a long time. Saiweita frowned, and his anger flashed past. Just when it was about to rise, Shen nodded.

"I'll try my best," he said.

The battle started immediately after half a minute. Neither fighter was wearing armor, which made the battle a bit too intense.

Shen's opponent is named Alctoro, who is also a recent recruit. He fought fiercely, which was completely different from the rigidity of the Imperial Fists that Sevatar imagined. He moved with the will to win, training his blunt sword to dance in the air like a poisonous snake.

Compared to him, Shen's fight was a bit more difficult, but he still didn't lose his own style.

Calm and cool, his pace was not disturbed at all by his opponent's continuous attacks. Despite this, Savita still couldn't figure out how Shen could win.

The key point in combat is to control distance. Swords have a natural advantage in distance compared to daggers, and this advantage cannot be erased casually.

Arcturro could easily drive Shen into a comfortable distance with his advantage of attack distance, but Shen could not rush forward rashly and let the short sword exert its most terrifying power. He had to be careful at all times to avoid getting hit in the vital parts by the blunt sword.

Savitar turned his head carefully and glanced to the right of the crowd. There were three people standing side by side, they were Rogal Dorn, Konrad Curze and Khalil Lohars.

The Primarch of the Imperial Fists was serious, as rumored. But so do the Lords of the Night Blades.

In fact, Sevita couldn't think of any other time when Konrad Coates looked more serious than he did today - even when he scolded Sevita and Shen that day, he didn't have such a straight face.

Khalil Lohars was different. He folded his hands and leaned against the wall to watch the battle, acting as confident as ever.

Savita felt a little relieved. He withdrew his gaze and continued to watch the battle. Shen's experience was not beyond his expectation - he was indeed forced into a corner by Alctoro.

This is not fair! Sevatar grinned angrily and sneered.

Recruit? How could a new recruit wield a sword so skillfully as if he had killed hundreds of people? He must have experienced more than one actual combat mission!

Damn it, Shen, use your steps to confuse him! Get close to him and use your best analytical skills to knock this bastard down and give him a taste of Nostramo greetings!

Putting aside Sevatar's slander against the Imperial Fists for now, let's focus back on Shen.

He was fighting and had no retreat at this moment. His back was leaning on the spikes of the iron net, and the stinging pain reminded him that it was time for you to step forward.

The same was true for his opponent. Arcturro stood upright with his sword in both hands. There was an invitation in his eyes that was ready to go - he seemed to hope that Shen would take the initiative to attack to bring this battle to a perfect end.

Do you want me to be a good stepping stone?

Shen smiled.

He retracted his swords and held them tightly against his wrists for the second time in the battle, holding them in an unusual way. His thumb, ring finger and little finger held the handle of the knife, while his index finger and middle finger stuck to the surface of the knife.

Arcturro frowned, wondering what his opponent meant by this, and why he took the initiative to put away his weapon in such a suicidal way - but he was no longer prepared to wait any longer.

The Fist of the Empire twisted his wrist and stepped forward. His waist was full of strength, his muscles bulged, and his arms swung, swinging the sword like a hammer. Sevata narrowed his eyes and began to think about how to make this guy lose face when he went up later.

However, he did not see the miserable defeat he imagined.

Sevata's eyes suddenly widened.

Facing the blade, Shen did not retreat. He faced the blade directly, lowered his body and rushed forward. Arcturro's unstoppable sword momentum did not stop because of the enemy's sudden charge, it still fell along the predetermined trajectory.

But Shen was no longer in the original place, Arcturro let out a short and rapid shout, as if he was confused.

He didn't understand why his mediocre opponent could burst out with such a fast speed all of a sudden, but Sevata and others in the audience saw it clearly-Shen didn't avoid Arcturro's blade by speed, but by his steps.

A step that was almost like sliding.

Sevata didn't watch any more, he already knew who would win. He turned his head and looked at their instructor, and happened to see Khalil's smile.

On the stage, Arcturro fell down as if he had been electrocuted. The Night Blades burst into a roar like a tsunami, extremely joyful, and Sevata was the one who shouted the loudest.

Just now, Shen immediately stabbed his opponent's several vital points with a dagger after dodging the sword. Although the dagger was not sharpened, the impact it brought was still not to be underestimated. Arcturro's body had begun to show terrible bruises.

Shen silently put the dagger back on his belt and picked up the training dagger. It seemed that he wanted to return it to Arcturro, or Arcturro's open palm.

However, at this moment, a voice of stopping was heard from the audience.

"You don't have to do that, Shen of Midnight Blade." Someone in the crowd said so. "I'm going to use it next."

Shen looked down the stage and saw a young man walking towards him. He was taking off his clothes as he walked.

He had short dark blond hair, very messy, and looked as if it had been blown by the wind for hours. He was also very handsome, with royal blue eyes, but there was no hesitation in these eyes.

Shen frowned.

He had just straightened his back and bent down again unconsciously, and he had entered a fighting posture again. The discussion in the crowd fell into a moment of silence because of the young man's words, and the person who broke the silence was Sevita.

"Who are you?" He shouted unceremoniously. "The rules don't say this is a round-robin battle, and this is an exchange meeting for new recruits. You look a little too old, don't you?"

"Is appearance important to us?" The young man who looked much more like a person than Sevita asked back. At this moment, he had already climbed onto the training cage. Arcturro was dragged out by him and handed over to the other Emperor Fists down the stage.

"I am indeed a new recruit of the Imperial Fists and have never been on a combat mission. My name is Sigismund. Now, I want to fight you, Shen of the Midnight Blade." He stretched out his hand to Shen and asked him for the sword that once belonged to Arcturus: "Are you willing?" Shen nodded to him, handed the blade over, and immediately turned his head before Sevata could speak and said something to him. "The rules don't say that round-robin battles are not allowed, Sevata." "You--" Sevata took a deep breath. "--Okay, then you fight, for the sake of the eternal night, I will pray for you." Shen turned his head back silently, and Sigismund nodded to him politely, holding the blunt sword in his right hand, with the tip of the sword hanging to the ground, standing in a relaxed posture. "Shen?" He said. "Just Shen?"

"Yes."

"You have a very rare name, very short, but also easy to remember. How did you defeat Arcturus just now? Simple steps cannot achieve the effect of sliding."

"This is a secret, I'm sorry I can't tell you."

Shen took the short knife from his waist and raised his fists as if he was about to have a boxing fight. The blade was close to his wrist, and he stared at Sigismund's wrist and shoulder, his eyes almost sharp.

"Are you here to fight me, or to ask questions?"

"Both." Sigismund replied.

The next second, the battle started instantly.

The blunt sword and the short knife collided with each other, responding to the beating of the heart like the drumbeats in the music. Shen's face condensed into a hideous mask, he rarely had such emotional fluctuations. The short knife danced, airtight, and he really started to attack.

His posture was very wild, completely different from his repeated concessions when facing Arcturus. The two knives cut through the air like a whirlwind, making a whirring sound. Even though they were unsharpened, they could not conceal their bloodthirstiness at the moment.

Sigismund was very calm. He hardly waved his arms around. All the defenses and attacks were brought about by the light movement of his shoulders and wrists.

The sword and the dagger continued to collide and dodge. The discussion in the audience gradually disappeared, and people began to watch the battle attentively. At the other end of the stage, Siani and Richtner, who were standing together, shook their heads together.

"Shen is going to lose." Siani said with a sigh. "I thought his growth rate and talent were amazing enough, but I didn't expect that there would be someone who could be better."

Richtnar remained silent. He stared coldly at the man waving the sword on the stage, with a rare desire in his eyes.

This desire was different from the excitement when he faced Khalil, but another kind of fervor when a poisonous snake tried to hunt - his sight was so sharp that he seemed to want to peel off Sigismund's skin and twitch, and eat him alive.

Siani naturally felt the sight. He sighed and said, "You're not like this, are you, Richter? This is an exchange meeting for recruits."

"He won't be a recruit any time soon." Richtnar answered Siani's words in a soft voice, and at the same time, he began to walk forward.

"What are you going to do? You don't want to interrupt the battle, Richtenar, are you crazy?"

"No," Richter said without turning around. "I just want to remind Severtalion a few words. Apart from him, there is probably no one else in our two teams of recruits who can fight against this guy named Sigismund."

There is one more chapter.