40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 24 24. The Long Night (2, 2 in 1)

Climb.

Thousands of meters in the air.

Khalil clenched his hands and rubbed the edge of the building, looking for a suitable place to focus.

The building's cold, rough exterior made his fingers ache, and so did his palms. However, he has long been used to it.

Friction is an essential part of climbing, just like swinging a knife inevitably stains your palms with blood.

The cold wind is biting.

The higher you go, the stronger the wind becomes. They seemed to be admonishing Khalil in a relatively gentle way, hoping that he would retreat in spite of the difficulties.

Khalil had no answer. He just exhaled a breath and looked back down.

In his current field of vision, thin clouds had obscured Quintus. It became psychedelic and weird, a neon halo formed by the distance that shredded it, reflecting on Khalil's retinas.

All he could hear was the howling wind and some strange echo coming from inside the huge spire. Khalil knew that it was the sound of some kind of mechanical operation.

There are many things in Shadow's memory, including the strict security at the connection between the upper and lower nests, as well as the specific locations of these machines. The spire belonged to House Skolywok, ​​and there was no reason for Shadow to be unfamiliar with it.

A pathetic creature whose flesh and blood were covered with metal, blurring emotions and cognition.

A slave who never had a life of his own was seen as a precious replaceable.

A sharp knife held in the monster's hand was stained with blood through dirty means.

"No," Khalil whispered. "After tonight, you'll never have to again."

He continued upward, his movements light and agile.

His physical strength and strength have never been so abundant, and the pitiful amount of vitamins in the nutritional paste has never made this body so strong.

Now, he can fly up three or four meters with only a gentle exertion, and even the biting cold wind can no longer affect him.

It's incredible.

Khalil knew that this was definitely one of the side effects of that power. He untied them and they began to dance in joy inside him.

Increased strength and stamina may be just one of their rewards.

However, in some ancient fables, good luck and money without any reason usually come from the devil. The more you gain, eventually, the more you lose.

After continuing upward for three hundred meters, he reached a small circular platform. There are twelve huge machines humming around the circular platform, which can adjust the temperature and purify the air.

Khalil has seen many similar platforms. Only this one was worth his while.

Standing at the edge of the ring, Khalil took off his cloak and dropped it from the sky. It quickly fell into the thin clouds and disappeared, and no trace could be traced.

Looking at the nothingness, he was silent for a moment, but suddenly chuckled and shook his head.

"I will also help you complete your revenge."

He murmured to himself and pulled up the sleeve of his right hand, completely revealing the tattoo that seemed to be bleeding from the Rohars family.

A destroyed noble family is of no importance in Nostramo. Once they lose their power, not many people will remember their names.

However, the workers who left the nest will not be remembered by many people while they are still alive.

What an ironic contrast.

Khalil closed his eyes and took a deep breath for a brief moment. When he opened his eyes again, the cold blue light had replaced the darkness and became the only color left in his eyes.

Then he walked right into the wall, like a real ghost.

——

A spear was thrust into a man's chest and abdomen, piercing him completely.

He lay on a boulder with a blank expression, the surface of the stone was covered with his blood. Light fell from the sky, illuminating him, but all around was darkness, with countless pairs of eager eyes waiting hungrily inside.

Mantas Skolywok stared at the painting and shook his head slightly.

"The artistic taste of our ancestors is truly unflattering."

he said to himself. "The person who painted this painting should be sentenced to death, and the painting should be destroyed immediately. Rather than being kept until today."

After saying this, he paused deliberately, and at the same time glanced sideways at the darkness in the corner of the study room.

Mantas Skolywok was silent for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter.

In the past, Shadow would have answered his words during this brief interval. This also creates this little habit.

He smiled and shook his head, slowly returning to his desk.

There were several documents placed on it, with difficult-to-read cursive characters beautifully linked together, and bright red ink lingering quietly on the pale paper rolls.

After being placed for a period of time, they have set their shape and will no longer smear with each other due to a little friction, making the words become a mess.

Mantas Skolevok picked up the first one, spent a few minutes examining the document he had written in his own hand, and then put it back without interest.

The deal with Shivering Tooth has been reached, and since then, the Skolevok family has only three noble forces left to deal with in Quintus.

And in twelve hours, the big purge will come early.

The power of those three families cannot be compared with that of the Skolevok family at this time. Their end can only be to suffer huge losses in Quintus, and finally withdraw from the competition in despair.

Thinking of this, Mantas couldn't help but sneered - he was already looking forward to the opening of the Noble Parliament in half a month.

At that time, he will reasonably and legally propose compensation in parliament, and if they do not agree

No, there is no if.

He started laughing loudly.

They must agree. Otherwise, there is no second option.

But, my heir.

The tattooed Earl closed his eyes and sighed in his expensive and comfortable chair.

There were seventeen at first, but twenty years later, only three remained.

Right now, that number is zero.

zero.

It can represent starting from scratch, or it can represent a complete loss of wealth.

At this moment, Mantas Skelework prefers the latter option.

Deep wrinkles began to appear between his eyebrows. This matter must be thoroughly investigated and dealt with. The murderer must be sentenced to death in front of everyone, and the person behind the scenes must also pay a heavy price.

He opened his eyes indifferently, ended his thinking, then stood up, planning to leave the study to rest. Tonight is still very long, and he doesn't plan to wait any longer.

After all, shadows never fail.

When he came to the study door, he pushed it open - the door shaft, which was well maintained every day, was extremely smooth. He pushed the gilded door open easily with one hand without any resistance.

Servants could only touch its surface with their foreheads and wait for the built-in mechanism to cause the door to slide open automatically. But Mantas Skolevok prefers manual work, and being hands-on is one of his trademarks.

He came to the long corridor and walked slowly, like taking a walk.

The lights turned on spontaneously, and the soft yellow light illuminated the place very warmly. Even the expressions of the glaring ancestors in the portraits have softened. In Mantas' perception, his ancestors looked at him with pride.

This made him smile.

Yes, you should be proud of me.

I will make House Skelevok the only nobles of Nostramo as long as I live, and all others will bow to their lordship.

Ancestors, you will cheer for me.

The depression of losing the heir he had worked so hard to cultivate was even dispelled by this emotion. He walked through the corridor with a smile, but at the next corner he was sprinkled with hot blood.

Mantas Skelevok's right hand trembled violently.

what's the situation?

"Oh, good evening."

A soft voice sounded in the darkness, with a hint of sincere apology.

"I didn't mean to spill blood on your clothes, it's just that you came at an unlucky time. I just finished dealing with the last hidden sentry."

"However, you are really paranoid. You have to keep so many traps, mechanisms and safety measures in your own steeple."

"you--"

Mantas Skolywok spoke in shock and anger, but was immediately interrupted.

"-Shh."

A cold hand stained with blood suddenly came from the depths of the darkness, closed Mantas' chin with great force, and placed the middle finger and thumb on his cheek just right.

Then, the owner of this hand gently exerted force.

With a crisp click, Mantas Skelework suddenly felt a sharp pain.

His jaw just dropped loosely. The muscles pulled it tenaciously, resisting gravity, but the nerves hurt as if they were on fire.

Mantas's body trembled violently, and he instinctively wanted to scream in pain, but a blade pierced his throat the next second.

When the blade was withdrawn, a cold air flow followed, messing up his entire mouth, and the blood that was about to spurt out from the wound was frozen.

They turned into blood pillars with countless tiny ice edges, continuing to hurt their master's body.

Mantas Skolevok suddenly fell to his knees. He was not one of those Shivertooths who craves physical pleasure, and his tolerance for pain was not outstanding. Therefore, he was now in so much pain that he couldn't stand up.

"Shh," the voice said softly. "It's late at night, everyone is asleep, please be quiet, okay?"

Hearing this, Mantas raised his head tremblingly, and his great anger prompted him to do this, briefly ignoring the pain.

He must see the true face of such a bold person.

At the same time, he was still thinking about ways to break the situation.

This highly skilled assassin obviously comes from another family. Just like the shadow of the Skolywok family, he is one of the trump cards belonging to each family.

Furthermore, he displays a familiarity with the family's inner workings and a quirky sense of humor. The latter is easy to explain, it is nothing more than a mental problem. Shadows also have it, and all 'shadows' probably have this problem.

But how to explain the former? Especially since the timing of this assassination happened to be on the day the shadow left.

No, no, how did he bypass the layers of security inside the minaret?

I didn't hear any gunshots. Could it be that all the Sentinel robots have malfunctioned? There is also a built-in alarm system, why doesn't it sound a warning? !

Is it possible that there is a betrayer? Did he collude with other families to carry out the assassination at this time? Is it a chattering tooth? The chances are very high that they can guess that I will do it

"Don't think about it, Mr. Count."

said the voice in the darkness, squatting down so that Mantas could see his face more clearly.

It was a pale face.

With melancholy eyebrows and a high nose, he was smiling softly, looking very gentle.

"You can't guess the truth unless I take the initiative to reveal the answer. And the guesses you are making now are actually meaningless. Of course, if they can divert your attention and allow you to ignore the pain for a while, I will It doesn’t matter.”

Mantas opened his mouth and made a broken sound from his throat angrily. It sounded like a whimper, and blood seeped out of his mouth.

"No, I'm not an assassin. Killing you is not my main purpose here."

Khalil explained patiently. He squatted beside the kneeling count, his posture relaxed, as if he was having a conversation between old friends.

If you don't look at the identities and scenes, some people may indeed think that they are friends.

After all, Mantas Skolevok responded to Khalil's question with just a few whimpers.

"You see, Mr. Earl, you have your own rules for dealing with the world."

"You turn everything into a simple exchange of interests. Although a large number of you do prefer a moment of physical pleasure, interests are still the most important thing."

"I like this attitude of using rules to make the world go round, but your rules."

Khalil sighed softly.

He stretched out his right hand, picked up Mantas' chin, and dragged him towards the other end of the corridor.

Pain followed, and Mantas kept slapping the hand that was so cold that it was almost corpse-like, but to no avail.

And he couldn't even bite his fingers off, his jaw now doing nothing but causing him pain.

As he walked left and right, he showed an extreme familiarity with this place, as if he had lived here for decades.

At the same time, he even did not forget to finish the last part of his sentence to Mantas Skolywok.

".Your rules are so bad that even a person like me who doesn't need to care can't stand it. Do you know what this feels like, Mr. Earl?"

Khalil shook his head, swung his arms, and threw the supreme earl of the Skolywok family into a room.

The door had already been opened, and the Count spun and flew into it, knocking over a bunch of tables and chairs.

He lay on the ground in unbearable pain, feeling like the world was spinning and his mind was in a blur.

He sat on the position of earl based on his wisdom, and the thirty-two brothers and sisters who competed with him were all sent into a death trap by him. He also doesn't like to use violence, it's too vulgar

Therefore, although he still wanted to stand up and resist, his body simply ignored him.

Khalil ignored him, just wiped the blood in his hand on his clothes, and then closed the door.

Immediately afterwards, he dragged a chair and sat in front of Mantas Skelework, tilting his head and looking at him, waiting patiently.

How easy. Khalil thought. Untie the shackles and throw away the rules. Could it be so easy to make a leader who poisoned the hive city suffer like this?

He couldn't help but laugh.

Yes, killing is easy.

Human beings are inherently capable of violence, let alone people like him. Violence can achieve the goal as quickly as possible, but what happens after that?

Mantas Skelevok climbed up shakily, interrupting Khalil's thoughts.

He glanced at Khalil, and then he actually pulled up a chair and sat down. In the process, his eyes glanced at Khalil's deliberately exposed right wrist.

He narrowed his eyes.

Khalil saw it.

Mantas Skolevok took a deep breath and slowly raised his hands, intending to find a solution to his dislocated jaw.

At this moment, a hand with a tattoo on his wrist stretched out and brushed his cheek with a cold temperature.

——The wounds and pain disappeared.

The tattooed Earl's cheek twitched sharply.

"Surprised?" Khalil asked.

".Somewhat." Mantas Skolywok replied in a low voice.

"Are you surprised by my power, or is it my identity?"

"A bit of both"

The tattooed Earl shook his head, feeling a little emotional.

At this moment, he relaxed strangely and leaned back on the chair. This change of attitude made Khalil smile silently.

He could probably guess what the tattooed Earl was thinking.

"You are still alive, Khalil Lohars," Mantas Skolywok whispered.

Khalil did not answer. He knew that Mantas had a lot to say.

To treat a dying man, he is willing to show him a little respect.

"You came here to ask me the truth about that year, right?"

Mantas Skolywok spoke slowly.

"Yes, it was the traitor who destroyed your family, considering he is already dead. So, I guess, someone has told you?"

Khalil still didn't answer.

Mantas calmly ignored the incident and continued his story. However, he was still thinking about the answer to this question rapidly in his mind.

"Your father Gaius Loharus begged us to pardon you at the cost of your family's treasure trove. The inhumane executioner asked at the last moment of his life to leave a way for his son. We promised. ”

Staring into Khalil's eyes, Mantas paused for a moment. He planned to take this time to observe all Khalil's possible reactions.

"Does that path mean throwing a seven-year-old child and two daggers from the Lohars family into the lower nest?" Khalil asked with a smile.

"You can't ask for more," Mantas replied calmly.

"The crime of murdering an earl should have led to the death of all of you. Even the traitor had his name erased. After that, he served as an unknown priest in the lower nest, which was far from the life that a noble should have. Far."

"But it's still better than people living in the next nest."

Khalil smiled and shook his head. "You don't know something, Mr. Earl. The traitor who was forced by you can still control the situation in the lower nest. Frankly speaking, he is still a noble, he is just living in the lower nest."

Inevitable - Mantas Skelework frowned.

He didn't get the reaction he wanted.

This means that all his speculations about Khalil Lohars will be overturned again. The other party is not here for profit. At least until now, this descendant of the Lohars family has not shown any desire to regain his name and status.

The more critical point is that Khalil Lohars survived.

This means that one of the families who participated in the conspiracy secretly protected him and trained him.

It also meant that, in their voices, the man Mantas Skelework must be a source of hatred.

Although it is true.

It was indeed Mantas who orchestrated the destruction of the Lohars family.

But why does Khalil Lohars seem indifferent at this moment? He could even still laugh easily. Mantas could tell that smile was definitely not a fake.

He couldn't help but swallow the saliva that still smelled of blood. Invisibly, the initiative of the conversation was reversed again.

"Are you confused?" Khalil asked softly.

"But, as I said, Mr. Earl, unless I speak, you will never guess the truth."

"You seem to be very confident, descendant of the Lohars family." Mantas said in a deep voice.

"Well I'm not really confident," Khalil said. "I just know what I'm going to do."

"what are you up to?"

Khalil smiled slightly and stood up. Silver light flickered on his wrist. He raised his hand, and the two knives were rotated and held in his hands.

Then he turned around and threw them out. The blade pierced the air with great force, letting out a dangerous scream. The thick wall was instantly penetrated, and the clicking sound of mechanical operation was heard.

Immediately afterwards, another wall suddenly flipped over, and a huge black machine appeared.

Mantas Skolevok's expression suddenly changed.

The nobles of Nostramo have many ways to communicate with each other. They can choose to send messengers, send letters, or use the convenient but undignified instant chat using the communication system.

Among all these methods, there is one that is only used in emergencies.

"You see, Mr. Earl, I know a lot of things. I know how you indulge in pleasure, I know how you murder each other. And this matter is undoubtedly the most interesting part of the things I know."

Khalil burst out laughing, his laughter echoing around the room.

"What are you going to do?" Mantas asked, leaning forward and grabbing the armrest with both hands.

This was the first time he had ever felt out of control, not even when he was being dragged down the corridor. A terrible uneasiness began to well up in his heart, eating away at his insides.

"What do you think?" Khalil asked. "What do you think I am going to do? Weren't you full of confidence just now, Mr. Earl? Don't you think that this descendant of the Lohars family is here to take revenge on you?"

"Is not it?!"

"No, no, Mr. Earl. You are not worthy of me going to war, no matter the cost."

Khalil turned around and slowly approached the machine: "The descendant of the Lohars family has died long ago. Mr. Earl, what is standing in front of you now is just a ghost."

"What the hell are you going to do, Khalil Lohars?!"

The ghost stopped, turned around, smiled softly, and a cold blue light lit up in his eyes.

He answered softly, and answered the count eloquently in another language that was completely different from Nostramo.

"I'm going to set fire to it, Count. I'm going to burn you damn bastards. I've had enough."

——

On a cold night, a voice suddenly sounded in Nostramo's upper lair.

It comes from afar, by ancient machinery hissing in the night. It passes through the gorgeous and gloomy palaces of the nobles, through the dark and bloody dungeons, and through the vaults filled with gold and silver treasures.

Eventually, it reached the ears of every noble.

At this moment, whether they were sleeping in bed or dancing slowly to soft music in human skin, they all heard this soft voice.

"My nobles."

"The monarchs in the Royal Court of Eternal Night."

"Good evening."

"Please remember my voice, and please be prepared. You can run away, resist, or hide. No matter what, I will end everything tonight."

"Of course, there's one last thing."

A slight laughter sounded, hovering in their ears, with a chill and madness that came from nowhere, and gradually expanded, like thunder.

"Remember, I'm here for you."

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