40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 225 50. A deserter, a knight (End, 8k chapter)

Leon El'Jonson sat silently on his throne, staring at everyone below.

The ivory armrests and the obsidian base were mixed together, and the two completely different yet highly similar coldnesses brought him into a new realm. He began to look at the knights in the hall with a more rational and ruthless eye.

What's interesting is that what drives this ruthlessness is the majestic rage roaring in his heart at this moment.

He was angry, but he remained silent. Four hundred and thirty pairs of quiet eyes looked at the lion without saying a word. They wait for the lion's word or command, waiting without complaint.

Then Leon spoke.

"Honor." He spat out one word with a cold tone. “How else am I going to pursue it?”

His words sent ripples of uneasiness among the four hundred and thirty-one knights. It is true that this sentence has no beginning or end, but it comes from the mouth of a lion. Therefore it deserves attention.

Luther felt all this keenly, and the pain in his heart became more and more intense.

He always has - the knights respect him for more than just his ability. Unlike Leon El'Jonson, who only allowed his kindness and closeness to show in a few moments, Luthor was different.

He is not a smooth man who tries to make ends meet. He also pays attention to honor and principles, but he is much kinder than the lion. If you had to choose someone to speak first at the banquet, even Leon himself would probably choose Luther.

Because of this, he could almost predict what would happen next.

And Leon El'Jonson lived up to him.

"We are the Dark Angels. We pursue honor and victory. We value ourselves as watchers in the darkness. We are not afraid to talk about sacrifice. In fact, we have sacrificed more than anyone else. But what about now?" he asked sharply. "We swore to remember the names of every deceased, and some of you have broken your oath!"

He looked around, his eyes like flint rubbing against each other, and the pure flames caused by the fire of anger were descending on the main hall of the Unyielding Truth. None of the knights spoke, and they did not choose to defend themselves.

"I don't know who that person is, but what he is pursuing has changed from honor and victory to the shadow of these two things! Isn't this ridiculous? A person who is pursuing a shadow."

The lion finally stood up from the throne. His waist was empty, and his sword blade was not there. Coswayen stood beside him with his head lowered, his hands raised flat, and the sword blade and scabbard rested on his hands.

"We pursue victory, but we will never neglect sacrifice." The lion said lowly. He stopped looking at the knights and turned his attention to Coswayne.

The knight who did not belong to any wing was not wearing a helmet, and his face was expressionless. He lowered his head and stared at the ground in front of him. The distorted light cast by the stained glass hit his back. He shouldn't have felt anything, but he felt a thorn in his back.

It’s not because of the light, it’s because of the lion’s gaze.

Leon El'Jonson reached out to him and drew his sword. The sound of metal colliding is so fascinating, but also chilling. Holding the sword in one hand, Leon walked straight down the steps and left the throne.

Luther watched him go, falling into a sullen silence.

"Each of you has another chance." Leon El'Jonson said calmly. "There are always people who want to listen to wishes and confessions. I can't satisfy the former, but I can still satisfy the latter. What else do you have to say?"

"We have not broken our oath, lion." A knight said dullly.

"We do remember everyone's name. I was in the army for twenty-seven years, and a total of four hundred and sixty-six loyalists were executed under my command. I remember everyone's name, everyone's position. When I did it, There was no pain for them, they were recognized as dead in battle, honorable deaths. I never erased anyone's honor."

Leon looked over, and his eyes struck the knight who spoke like lightning, causing him to tremble inevitably.

Luther also looked over, and he recognized who he was through the complicated crest on the knight's right shoulder plate - he was the sergeant of Deathwing, a former member of the Crown's Army, and also a member of the Order of the Broken Crown. One of the warriors.

His name was Stanos Atalaire, and he was a stubborn man.

A stubborn, brave and loyal man.

Luther began to pray for him, but to whom?

He has no answer.

The lion walked over, his steps were light and his soles barely touched the ground. There is nothing dignified about this pace, and it is not a pace that should be used in conversation.

He walked over with the sword in one hand, and the blade of the sword was shining with a brilliance that was impossible to look directly at.

"Atalair."

"I am here, Primarch."

"I trust you." Leon said softly. "You have never lied to me. Your past achievements have proven yourself. You are an outstanding warrior and a brave knight. You have compassion and abide by the rules of conduct. But why do you represent other people?"

He raised his sword and rested it gently on Atal'air's left shoulder.

"Why do you represent other people?" Leon asked calmly.

"Look at these people, do you know them, Atalaire? You are with them day and night, but do you really know them? Don't give me answers easily, don't blurt out affirmations. Because you don't know them, and if they really is what you know, then this wouldn't have happened."

He removed the blade, but his movements were inconsistent. The blade and armor rubbed against each other, making a harsh sound.

Stanos Atalari endured all this silently, but Luther's brow began to frown more and more. He knew very well that this was just the beginning. The Lion would not give up until he got the answer and the truth.

"Take off your helmets." Leon ordered. His words were immediately carried out, and the helmet was removed and held between his arms. Amidst the sound of metal friction, 431 different faces were exposed to the cold air.

They all raised their heads and stared at the lion intently. Leon looked back one by one without saying a word. After a while, he smiled. This smile was extremely cold, like the embodiment of frost and storm.

"brave."

The lion stepped into the crowd, his sword lowered. He was taller than them, but at this moment his figure disappeared into the jungle made of pitch black and dark green steel.

Luther tried his best to capture Leon's figure, but he could only see a golden shadow.

"honor."

Leon's voice sounded cold from the back of the hall. He had no sound-producing device, and his voice alone filled the hall with echoes.

"humble."

The sword blade began to rub against the ground, making a harsh sound.

"Justice, honesty, mercy, sacrifice. Seven virtues, seven virtues that are often talked about but never required of everyone to abide by in practice - are you listening?"

The lion suddenly roared, and his roar combined with the friction of the sword to form a more terrifying sound, like thunder.

"I know you are listening, you despicable rat! You are hiding among my legions, taking away the last treasures of the victims, twisting our actions, and pouring cursed blood on our honor! Do you think Can't I catch you?"

The blond hair was flying, the beard and hair were spread out, and the furious lion started to sprint through the steel jungle like a real Caliban lion. He roared, glared and forced at the trees. He looked at each of their faces with hateful eyes.

That kind of naked hatred was even captured by Luther on the steps. His heart sank, knowing that things were still slipping towards the most unacceptable side.

Leon El'Jonson's obsession with honor is driving him to uncover the truth in a way that destroys the Legion's bonds and bonds.

Will he get answers? Luther didn't know it clearly, but he knew that today's events would definitely cause a crisis within the Legion. Moreover, this kind of crisis is the most terrifying kind.

Once trust is cracked, it cannot be healed.

What's worse is that this trend is taking hold. Luther had already seen the knights looking at each other. They were observing each other, trying to find out who was the rat.

"come out!"

The lion roared.

"You hide among my glorious knights, you steal their honor, their blood, and their friendship. You use these things that you don't deserve to enjoy to cover yourself with a layer of light of the same color, but you don't deserve to be with them. They stand together! A few minutes ago I tried to give you the respect you deserved, but you threw it on the ground with your own hands! Traitor, scum, rat!”

His anger and words caused the hall to tremble. The knights stared at each other, and a dangerous atmosphere was gathering. The friendship of the past is being replaced by a new kind of doubt. They still value each other and can still remember every detail of getting along with each other day and night.

However, the way they view each other has changed.

From brothers, partners and like-minded comrades, to potential traitors.

Luther closed his eyes in pain, he could hear his heart beating. He doesn't have two hearts, he only has one. Its sound was dull, like the pendulum of an antique clock.

Listening to the bells, Luther inevitably fell into thinking.

The lion was still questioning everyone angrily, his voice sounding like a missile roaring and a battleship sinking.

Luther listened to them bitterly, his thoughts sinking to the bottom of the sea. He became a complete bystander. Leon El'Jonson's trust allowed him to stand on the top of the steps unharmed, but he felt uncomfortable in his heart.

As the Grand Master of the Legion, Luther has long regarded this place as his home. His family is gone and his only ties are to Leon and the Legion

Wait, Legion?

A fire suddenly burned in Luther's chest.

For Legion, Leon El'Jonson is different. Luther said to himself. None of them could disobey him, and they obeyed not only because of Leon El'Jonson's abilities and deeds, but also because of his blood, and because he was a lion.

But I can.

Luther thought again of those reserves, those reconstructive surgeries. Yes, blood.

They have the blood of Leon El'Jonson in their bodies.

The connection of blood makes them obey him, 100% obedience. If this is the case, there is absolutely no possibility of a so-called traitor——!

Luther opened his eyes, his pupils shrank and his teeth clenched.

He realized it, but the Lion didn't.

Leon's thinking was still stuck in the period of the Knights of Order. He also believed that the respect he received was purely because of his own merits. He did not realize what was hidden behind that pathological compliance.

The Lions are searching for an answer, one that would save the Legion from greater humiliation. However, the answer he is looking for may not exist at all.

He couldn't find the traitor because there were no traitors.

Luther raised his head.

No.

This cannot be done. He must not let this matter continue to develop. What will the Legion look like by then? Everyone is suspicious of each other, and brotherhood is gone? No, I'm afraid it's far more than that.

Those intricate organizational structures, with their secrecy measures one after the other, will help to fuel the situation.

The more he thought about it, the more terrifying Luther felt. His fingers had even begun to tremble, but in contrast, his heart was gradually calming down at the moment.

the truth? The truth is that there is no truth. Leon El'Jonson was destined not to find what he wanted because it didn't exist. Luther raised his eyes and began to stare at the world in front of him.

The hall is magnificent and magnificent, and traces of Caliban are everywhere. The ground is made of black bedrock, and the stone makes people feel cold just by looking at it.

There are only two light sources in the hall, one is the huge sixteen-pointed chandelier hanging from the top of the head, and the other is the stained glass above the throne. The knights were covered with their light, but their expressions were so eerie that one dared not look directly at them.

Leon El'Jonson walked between them, still pressing for the truth of his needs. He was questioning another knight, every battle, every name.

The former stared coldly, and the latter answered bitterly, without missing a beat. Luther knew the man wasn't lying, but the Lion clearly didn't think so.

He no longer trusted them.

Who caused such tragedy?

Luther sighed, opened his lips slightly, and made his own sound.

He is not taller than anyone else, but he has courage and vows in his heart at this moment.

"Leon." Luther called calmly. "Stop it."

The furious lion turned his head sharply.

Luther walked down the steps to the throne with trembling fingers. Coswayne looked at his back and suddenly felt strange.

"What's the matter?" the lion asked coldly, his tone was not kind and full of danger.

"I want you to stop," Luther said. "Forcing them like this and judging a group of innocent people is not what a knight should do."

"I know you are soft-hearted, Luther, so I didn't let you be responsible for this." The lion slowly raised the sword blade, laid it flat on his chest. The sword blade covered the left side of his face, and his blond hair was flying. "But don't speak for them, especially at this time. Why do you say they are innocent?"

He turned his head, his eyes sharper than the blade of his sword, and stabbed all the knights in the face. His roar continued to erupt in the hall: "How do you know who among them is an innocent and who is a traitor?"

"If I follow your inference, I can even say that there are many traitors, Leon." Luther clenched his fists, his tone still soft. "A thousand sins, eternal pain"

The lion narrowed his eyes and smiled abruptly: "Yeah, why didn't I think of it? It's true. You're right, Grand Master. There may indeed be many traitors. This kind of thing can be hidden from the sky and performed in front of everyone's eyes. How can it be done by just one person?"

"No, that's not the case, Leon."

Luther said as he slowly walked up to the knights. He raised his hand and began to disassemble his armor with his bare hands - like the lion, he was also wearing a piece of armor that was more ceremonial than practical.

Its main body is composed of the green of Caliban, with silver as an embellishment, surrounding the breastplate and pauldrons. He took off the white knight's robe first, then the pauldrons, armbands, and breastplates, and so on. The metal The sound of collision with the ground is endless.

Half a minute later, Luther, wearing only a black ascetic robe, stood in front of everyone. His face was expressionless, and neither was the lion that was staring at him.

"What does this mean?" the lion asked in an extremely slow voice.

"I am the only sinner," Luther said. "I am the only one in the Legion who can do this with my own power. I am the one who spreads the curse over your heads, and it is I who brings shame to your honor. The death of Sergeant Trinfer Raton is I made it with my own hands, and I was also present in that battle.”

The lion lowered his sword.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his expression not seeming to have calmed down yet. "What are you talking about, Luther?"

"I'm confessing my sins." Luther lied, a big lie, but his expression remained calm. He turned his back to the light cast by the stained glass, and his back ached. "I stole your honor and the victory you bought with your blood——"

"——Reason?" The lion interrupted him rudely. He walked out of the steel forest, his eyes were cold and his breath was hot. In a daze, Luther almost saw the bloody beast from back then.

Then he called him, just like before.

"Leon, oh, Leon." Luther smiled. "Does this kind of thing need a reason? Everyone thinks they are different, and I am no exception."

"Before I met you, I was a hero and people admired me. After I met you, I became your vassal. In just a few years, you completely surpassed me. People only know Leon Ai Jonson, but I don't know who gave him his name. I am dissatisfied with this, Leon, and I have not received the honor I deserve."

Oh, Luther, what on earth are you doing? Your lies sound almost like the truth.

Luther laughed uncontrollably, and his laughter was wild, hovering in the entire hall.

- Maybe it's true. he thought coldly. Maybe this is indeed what I really think.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Leon El'Jonson asked, the blade of his sword lowered.

"I'm telling the truth, dear son," Luther said boldly.

After he said this, he felt a sense of sourness in his heart. He had never really said this title. He thought it would be revealed at an important moment.

He didn't expect it to be today, he didn't expect it to be in this way. Luther continued to wait for a moment, but Leon did not yell at him as he imagined, but looked at him with a blank and unfamiliar look.

"You mean," he said softly in a voice that didn't sound like his. "You think I took away what you deserved?"

"Maybe." Luther nodded. "People always change. My jealousy prompted me to do these things. I am a villain. It's a pity that I can't see it clearly until now."

"But you joined the Legion." Leon said in a very slight voice.

"Yes. I can't refuse the temptation of making contributions. I need honor, even if it is stolen. But you just let me do the job of commander, Leon, I don't like this. I also want to go to the front line to fight, go Killing enemies of humanity with others is where my jealousy started to turn, and I started to—"

Luther took a deep breath, needing the courage to continue.

"—do those things," he said quietly. "I killed Sergeant Trinver Larton. I forged and altered the manner of his death."

"Why?" Leon El'Jonson asked for the last time.

"I don't want to see you standing gloriously on a high mountain overlooking me. Leon, you should be standing in the same place as us. You can't stand there, so I did these things. I made your legion suffer today." A shame. Frankly, I’m happy.”

There was a huge discussion among the knights, including curses, shouts of disbelief, and vows of revenge. Luther was not surprised by any of this, but he was surprised that he still had supporters.

There were dozens of people trying to persuade others to calm down. Sir Luther must have some hidden agenda. Looking at their faces and listening to their voices, Luther felt a sense of satisfaction in his heart.

At least what I did was not in vain, so this sacrifice was worth it.

"Quiet——!" the lion roared.

His sword no longer lowered, he looked into Luther's eyes, staring painfully.

"Is everything you said true?" the lion asked.

"Everything is true."

"you swear?"

"I swear to Caliban."

"No." The lion raised his sword and pointed it at him. "I swear to your dead wife and daughter that there is nothing false in what you just said."

Luther was silent for a moment before speaking. He even raised his left hand.

"I swear to my wife and my daughter that what I just said is true and there is no falsehood. I am a liar, a villain, a criminal, a dark monster, and I am not worthy of standing with you."

The lion let out a quick gasp.

Luther fell to his knees obediently, moving slowly but never hesitating. Then he lowered his neck.

"Go on, Leon," he whispered. "End this."

With his back turned to his knights, the lion gradually raised the sword in his hand. What are you thinking about in those eyes? No one knows. In the corner of the hall, two giants who did not belong to Caliban and Terra looked at this scene without commenting.

A third of a second later, accompanied by the roar of the lion, the blade slipped and blood spattered.

——

"From now on, Caliban Luther will no longer belong to the Dark Angels Legion, nor to the Order of Caliban. All of his duties will be removed, and all of his honors will become a passing thing."

"We will erase his name, and we will spit on his person. He should have died, but according to Imperial law, in the name of justice, he will return to Terra to be tried, and he will be brought to justice as a member of the 439th Armored Division. Tell the public about what Sergeant Trinver Rutton did and clear his name.”

Luther, who had only one arm left, held the parchment roll in his hand, looked at these lines of words and the lion's command symbol, and smiled slowly but relaxedly. His wound was still bleeding, but he didn't feel any pain on his face.

"You don't seem angry at what happened to you, Ser Luther." A voice came from behind him.

"I no longer have a title, sir. I am just a lowly criminal now. You don't have to call me that." Luther said. He turned his head and saw the tall instructor without surprise.

"I didn't see a criminal, I only saw a hero who had the courage to stand up and take on everything." Khalil said softly.

"Who?" Luther asked.

"You." Khalil smiled. "Your acting skills are enough to fool most people here, but I can see more things. Sir Luther, it's a pity that I couldn't speak at the time."

Luther stood up silently from the chair in the cell, his shackles clattering against the ground. He stared at the pale giant through the gleaming iron bars, and slowly bent down and bowed.

"Thank you." Luther said dullly. "Thank you for not exposing me."

"Shouldn't you be angry at my silence?"

"Although I'm stupid and just want to solve the problem in this way, I'm not that stupid."

Luther raised his head, hissing air from his throat, and laughed very hard.

"The moment you arrived on Caliban with Terra's orders, some things were irreversible. Leon had to get this matter resolved, and if I didn't step up, who knows where the situation would have gone? "

"He has never been able to control his emotions very well outside of battle. I don't doubt that he would kill someone among the knights and declare him a traitor because of the slightest suspicion."

"I can't let this happen. The master of the Legion is Leon El'Jonson, but it is also my hard work. I only have two treasures, how can I let this matter taint them both at once? "

Khalil sighed: "You are indeed an honorable man, Mr. Luther. But why are you so sure that there are no traitors within the First Legion?"

"Why are you so sure I'm not a traitor?" Luther asked. "The attitude you showed is not like facing a despicable criminal. You are even willing to listen to my long speech."

Khalil was silent, as was Luther. After a few seconds, they looked at each other and smiled.

"There are some words that I shouldn't have said." Khalil spoke slowly and lowly. "But I think as a victim, you deserve the right to know the truth."

"the truth?"

"As you may have guessed, there are no traitors in the First Legion." Khalil said, his eyes quiet and deep, like black holes.

Luther stared at them, as if he had glimpsed the death and rebirth of stars. His fingers began to tremble again, this time more violently than before, even to the point of being uncontrollable.

He began to wait, silently, anxiously, and full of hatred.

"So, who was responsible for the death of Sergeant Trinver Ratton and the humiliating way he died?" Khalil asked seriously, and began to pace outside the cell.

Luther followed his movements with his eyes, feeling suddenly panicked.

Something - no, some powerful force has struck here. Luther thought so, and put his only remaining hand on his shoulder, trying to resist the cold.

Outside the cell, Khalil turned his head slowly, and a black and red flame lit up in his eyes.

"They can hide their tracks, they can completely withdraw from the situation, but if they want to kill someone, their hands will be stained with blood." He said lowly, his tone was like a declaration.

He raised his right hand, and Luther's eyes widened - he discovered that something was squirming in the giant's shadow.

Darkness swept in, swallowing up Luther's sanity, but he no longer felt cold or afraid, only peace and an attitude of knowing it would be like this.

"Sergeant Trinfer Ratton." Luther greeted the shadow. "How are you?"

"For a ghost, I'm doing okay." The long-dead sergeant grinned. "Hello, Grand Master Luther. I never thought I'd see you again. Hey, I heard what you did. You're so damn brave."

Luther's nose became sour and he almost shed tears. He threw away his honor and the achievements of most of his life with his own hands.

He was very aware of the consequences of doing this, and he never thought about stopping when he was doing it. After doing it, he didn't even regret it at all. However, at this moment, facing a compliment that was almost a joke, it was difficult for him to maintain his composure.

"Oh, don't be like this, Grand Master." The ghost of the sergeant raised his hand and scratched his head. "I wasn't brought here just to make you feel bad. Just listen to me, okay? The bastard who killed me, I remember his name and his face."

Luther took a deep breath, and then exhaled it tremblingly. The low temperature turned it into a light white mist, but Luther's vision was not affected. He looked intently at the ghost of the sergeant and nodded.

"His name is Damon Pletanis," Trinver Larton said. "He pretends to be you, but he is not you. He is just like me, can you understand?"

"He's as fucking tall as me. He killed me, and he was talking to someone while he was killing me. I couldn't understand the language he spoke, but he talked a lot, and he talked a lot before he got the gun Kill me. This bastard said a lot, but I only remembered one word."

"What word?" Luther asked softly.

"The Secret Cult," said Sergeant Trinver Larton with hatred.

As the words fell, the ghosts disappeared and the darkness receded.

Luther muttered this word silently, and clenched his remaining right hand tightly.

"The truth is out," Khalil said. "But this matter is still full of regrets. The soul of Sergeant Trinfer Ratton has been floating in the Sea of ​​the Dead for many years. The time there is different from the world we know. It was only just now that I found him."

Luther raised his eyes and glanced at the instructor. Of course he knew what the other person was talking about.

apologize,

"No need." Luther replied a little stiffly. "It doesn't have to be like this, Instructor Khalil. Even if you can summon his soul, this matter cannot really be used as legal evidence to clear the First Legion's innocence. The Empire's truth renounces these things."

"But I still feel guilty." Khalil stared at him from across the cell. "So, I would like to extend you an invitation, Mr. Luther."

"What invitation?"

"You'll know when we get back to Terra," Khalil said.

He turned and walked into the darkness, and Luther watched him leave in silence, feeling calm in his heart.

He has nothing but hatred.

Updated 2k more, and will update 8k tomorrow.

It stands to reason that I should write 4k more, but my fingers hurt ()