40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 227 52. Other things forgotten

Hatred and anger are unbridled.

Khalil knew this. Driven by hatred, people will do many things that they would not otherwise be able to do.

Just listening to this description, you might think that this means that they have lost their minds, but in fact, this is not the case. A person full of hatred will only lose his mind in the true sense when the great revenge is avenged.

Before that, they will all be like falling into an ice cellar thinking about how to crush their enemies to ashes. Of course, there are also those who preach that revenge is useless, or that revenge can only bring more hatred.

Khalil had thought about these two questions, and he finally came to the conclusion through personal practice that revenge felt great.

Not empty, not at all. There is no so-called bitterness, only pure joy and relaxation, a great revenge is avenged, and what could be more 'liberating' than being relieved of responsibility?

As he was thinking about these things, a mark was slowly rubbing against his palm. It still carried a blazing temperature, but it couldn't make the temperature of his palm rise. His body temperature was still the same as that of a long-dead corpse.

That's so weird, isn't it? Khalil thought to himself. A living person, a living person with heartbeat, breathing and blood flow, but the body temperature is like a corpse buried deep in the ice and snow.

Don't let Jairzinho know about this.

He couldn't help but chuckle, and Conrad Coates' voice came from behind him, with obvious dissatisfaction: "I think that when a person is working, he should not be disturbed. What do you think, Khalil?"

"I'm sorry," Khalil apologized obediently. "But it's not you who makes me laugh. Besides, you're not working, it's Jairzinho who is working."

The chief medical officer coughed solemnly.

"If you laugh because of how I look now, I don't have a problem with it." Coze replied listlessly.

It's hard to make him slouch. Usually, Konrad Coates is the most energetic person on the Nocturne besides Siani. But not now. Right now, he is being harvested for his genetic seeds.

This process is supposed to be serious, right? Most people in the world still think that this matter will have a sense of sacredness and mission. However, the reality is far from that.

The Astartes possess genetic glands, and the surgery they undergo to be seeded is serious indeed. Konrad Curze is different as a Primarch. He only needs to provide genetic material as a sample. In other words, he is actually just having his blood drawn.

Well. As long as you ignore the amount of blood being drawn.

"If I laughed out loud because of this, I'm afraid I'd have something against myself."

"Since I don't have any objection, you don't have any objection either." Coz turned to look at Jairzinho, who took a deep breath as expected and continued the second half of Coz's unspoken sentence. Words: "I don't have any objection either, Primarch."

"No, you have to have opinions, such as why I have to ask a medical officer to do this instead of a pharmacist." The Lord of the Night said pretending to be serious. "How can you have no objection, Jairzinho? You are working overtime."

Which day did I take a break? The chief medical officer secretly cursed, but still maintained an awe-inspiring expressionless face. This rare quality made him extremely successful in talking in his sleep with his eyes open.

"I love my job, Primarch," Jairzinho said. "So I never take a break."

A burst of laughter came from behind the medical officer.

Curze suppressed his laughter and said something Nostramo with a trembling lip: "This man used to say he hated humor."

"Okay, sirs--" The chief medical officer stabilized his hands in pain and began to operate the instrument to extract the original body's blood, complaining with a smile. "—I'm trying to work!"

"Okay, then I'll take the first step." Khalil said with a hint of regret. "What a pity. I originally wanted to tell a few more jokes that I carefully prepared and implemented them effectively."

"What have you carefully prepared?" Cozz asked with wide eyes. "What are you planning to joke about?"

"It is always necessary to prepare for a rainy day, Legion Commander." Khalil said seemingly gently. "After all, the biggest bet within our legion will soon be revealed. Of course I have to be prepared."

The chief medical officer's hand stiffened suddenly and his smile stopped.

"Bet?" Conrad Coates sat up from the iron bed in confusion. "Why would you tell a joke in that situation, Khalil?"

"Trust me" Khalil shook his head meaningfully. "The moment the mystery is revealed, jokes must be used to liven up the atmosphere."

"Okay, but what is this bet about? Why didn't I hear anything about it?"

Khalil chuckled, turned around and left the medical room without continuing the conversation. He had said enough, and revealing more would take away from some of the fun.

But will this incident be remembered and investigated by Coates? The answer should be yes, and he was looking forward to the Lord of the Night's expression when he discovered the truth.

It was good to have the courage to take responsibility, but he didn't want Conrad Coates to forget other things because of it.

——

Breathe, Leon, breathe.

The lion opened his eyes and did as he was told. A faint white light appeared in front of his eyes. A man holding a long parchment roll looked up at him in awe under the white light and stammered.

"D-Dear Sir—" His voice sounded very high-pitched and ridiculous, but Leon maintained his demeanor. "——Welcome back to Terra!"

The lion exhaled slowly, as he did every time he got off the boat and put his feet on the ground. It had become almost a habit, and the official and the Imperial Guard he had brought with him were still looking at him.

There was awe in their eyes, and the male lion smiled as usual, and nodded elegantly and majestically: "Then, I also want to express my gratitude to you. You did not arrange a parade, and I am very grateful to you." I am grateful for this.”

"Don't dare, sir!" The official lowered his head in fear, bowed, and left quickly. After he left, the lion immediately returned to his expressionless expression.

He was wearing a black cloak, with the badge of the Knights on his chest, and beneath it was a set of solemn and gorgeous dark green attire. A ceremonial sword stayed at his waist, held down by him with one hand.

The short blond hair fluttered slightly in the air, forming a sharp contrast with his ruthless dark green eyes.

Coswayne's voice came from behind him: "Primarch, according to your orders, I have checked that Nightfall left Terra two weeks ago. The Ministry of War did not hide this from us."

"They must have said something else, right?" the lion asked calmly.

"The official who was in charge of communicating with me did express some things in a vague way." Coswayen recounted without emotion. "He believes that the disappearance rate of the auxiliary troops fighting alongside us is too high. Every year, they meet with many parents who come to inquire because they cannot see the bodies of their children."

The lion snorted lightly and placed his right hand on the hilt of the sword, making no comment and showing no emotion.

Terra has at least tens of millions of helipads, and even at the foot of the palace there are at least several thousand. As a Primarch, he had the authority to stay directly near the Himalayas. At this moment, he was standing on a city wall looking down.

The workers flowed almost like a river, walking around on the white ground, stacking stones, or carrying goods. The lion looked at this scene indifferently, still proud, but feeling a little sour from nowhere in his heart.

In the past, he would not have wavered in other people's evaluations. But it's different now. Now, he——

——"Leon."

The lion looked back.

"Roger." He nodded gently as a greeting. "It's always good to see you."

Corswain lowered his head and backed away slowly, leaving the occasion to the Lion and his brother Rogal Dorn. Nushi, who had short gray-white hair, was frowning at the moment, his expression not good-looking.

"It's nice to see you, but, Leon. If you want to come to the palace, why don't you communicate with me first?"

"I didn't know you were here," the lion said deftly.

"The Phalanx is parked in low-Earth orbit." Roger Dorn replied expressionlessly. He knew what Leon was playing, but he didn't expose it, and even mentioned another thing.

"I plan to leave Terra next spring. My father gave me some new jobs before he left. Forget about these, are you here to find someone?"

The right hand under the lion's cloak tightened his grip on the sword little by little, not trying to attack, but simply out of emotional reaction.

".you know?"

"The person holding the seal mentioned this to me, just a few words. Furthermore, even if I don't know, I can tell something from the appearance of your visit. You didn't hold a military parade. That's why What surprised me the most.”

Donne stared at Leon's face closely, trying to read something from his face. That look could never be called gentle. Through him, Leon saw a row of yellow figures standing not far behind his brother.

The weapons they wore were not many, but compared with Coswayne and himself, they were already fully armed. Dorne himself wore his famous praetorian uniform, empty at the waist and without weapons.

The contrast began to make Leon's temples throb. He suppressed the urge to roar, suppressed the arrogance caused by pride, and even swallowed the dissatisfaction caused by being treated in this way.

Then he spoke in a gentle tone.

"What did the seal bearer say?"

"He only said that you came here to find someone, and asked me to take you to see him immediately after seeing you."

Leon lowered his gaze, and then raised it again after a moment: "Then, please lead the way for me, brother."

Dawn nodded slightly in surprise.

Twenty-five minutes later, Leon El'Jonson saw the Sealmaster himself in a secret room beneath the Terra Palace. The Primarch's memory made it almost impossible for him to forget anything, and naturally Malcador's face was among the things he remembered.

He was exactly the same as Leon remembered, a declining old man, holding a scepter that looked almost the same as holding a cane. The face under the hood of the robe is full of wrinkles, and the skin is as dry and wrinkled as bronze parchment rolls, with countless wrinkles.

Only one thing is different.

his eyes.

At this moment, there was an emotion surging in those eyes that Leon couldn't see through.

"I need an explanation."

The Lion took the lead and chose to take the initiative rather than wait for Malcador to speak. He knew what Malcador could do and would never take him lightly because of the latter's aging appearance.

"Explain what?" Malcador asked, his voice was very low, as if it was coming from the tomb.

"Don't-" Leon took a deep breath and miraculously suppressed his rising anger again. "——Don't ask questions knowingly, Seal Holder, I respect you. I don't want the relationship between us to turn from this cold respect to a bad one."

Malcador smiled.

"Even when you're saying nice things, you sound like you're threatening me," he said with a smile. "Well, great lion, I will tell you the truth. The person you are looking for is no longer here."

Leon opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He was silent for several seconds, and the muscles all over his body relaxed and tensed during these seconds, as if he was going through a spasm.

"What do you mean?" he asked reluctantly.

"Sir Luther has left," Malcador said.

He said this with no emotion, his smile gone. His eyes looked like two whirlpools. Staring at them, the anger in the lion's heart was sucked away. At this moment, the emotion he felt was more like powerlessness.

"died?"

"No, he left," Malcador repeated. "You came to Terra not just to find someone, you also wanted to get the truth. You tried to clear his name, which was a noble act, but I'm afraid Sir Luther didn't want you to do that."

"Where did he go?"

"I'm sorry I can't tell you." Malcador replied, with almost no emotion in his voice. "He is a man of faith and I respect that and I will not tell you these things against his will."

"His wishes?"

The lion took a step forward - this step produced a huge echo in the secret room. The roar that followed began to add to the echo, turning it into something even more terrifying.

Malcador looked at him without surprise. He wanted to dissuade the lion from calming down, but his words failed to come out. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

The current expression of Gein Leon El'Jonson.

What kind of face is this?

This face is perfect from any angle. This kind of perfection is not the paranoid perfection caused by extreme handsomeness or beauty, but the perfection created by the superposition of every detail.

Eyebrows, eyes, nose, even beard, every detail makes this face look extremely majestic. Is it handsome? Sure, but no one cares.

This is the face of a natural king, ruthless and calm, with deep majesty. When the face is expressionless, the wind is calm; when the face is roaring, the storm is roaring, and the majesty is doubled.

And now, this face is distorting.

Emotions - Extremely complex emotions are distorting it. Its owner didn't care. He was breathing heavily to calm down.

The instinctive anger is being suppressed by Leon El'Jonson with his precious reason. The indignation and sorrow caused by the whole incident are accumulating deep in the eyes, causing the dark green eyes to fluctuate. Stop blinking.

The lion closed his eyes and began to take deep breaths again. Some words rang in his ears. These words had been rang countless times on his way to Terra.

They are thunder, lightning, the sound of explosive bombs being fired, the silent wail in the vacuum when missiles hit ships, and the subtle screams when the ground is baptized by flames and then trampled by iron boots.

They are the sounds of a man patiently and carefully teaching a beast. He teaches him language, fighting, etiquette, life. He gives everything to the beast. He turns the beast into a man.

They were still the words that the man kept in his belly and never said out loud.

‘Yes. I can’t refuse the temptation of making great achievements. I need honor, even if it’s stolen. ’

'But you're just asking me to be the commander-in-chief, Leon, and I don't like that. I also want to go to the front lines and fight, to kill the enemies of mankind with others. ’

‘I don’t want to see you standing on a high mountain in all your glory and looking down at me. Leon, you should be standing in the same place as us. You couldn't stand there, so I did what I did, and I brought your legion to the disgrace it is today. Frankly, I'm delighted. ’

I need honor.

I am a knight and I should fight alongside others. You cannot 'protect' me just because you want to.

You should be in the same place as us, together, Leon.

You can't stand on a high mountain and look down at everyone. You can't stand there alone.

I am happy to do these things and I am willing to sacrifice.

I need honor.

So, why don't you take these honors back with your own hands?

Leon El'Jonson opened his eyes.

Malcador was very surprised by this.

"You have matured." The palm-printer suppressed most of his emotions and shook his head with a sigh. "At least you've been able to put yourself in someone else's shoes and I'm sincerely happy for you, Leon."

"I have no need of your pleasure," said the Primarch calmly. "Makado, what exactly does Luther mean? What happened to him? I. Please tell me these things."

Malcador sighed sadly.

"If I could, I would tell you. Even for your rare request, I should tell you the truth. But I can't, otherwise it would be against my own principles. Sir Luther wants me to do it for him I can't keep these secrets from anyone."

"So, what's the truth?" he asked. "Where is the truth, Malcador? I came to Terra to do two things. The first thing is destined to not go according to my wishes, but what about the second thing?"

"Of course I can say that."

"Then tell me." Lion El'Jonson whispered.

He held the ceremonial sword tightly, with a completely different state of mind, with a human body, not a lion's heart.

This chapter is 5k, 1k more, tomorrow's update is 9k.

By the way, I recommend this hammer article, Warhammer: Nirvana of the Purple Phoenix, the protagonist is the Great Western King ()