40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 251 22. Phoenix falls from the sky (4)

Conrad Coates stared at the sky with squinted eyes, silent.

The sky has darkened, and the sunset in the Lar people's world is as magnificent and disorderly as a scene in a dream. The sky is an almost illusory pink, and the clouds are overlapping and mixed together, and the swarms of Stormbirds and Thunderhawks are completely torn apart by taking off. .

The Primarch's vision allowed him to see farther than an ordinary Astartes, and combined with the zoom function of the helmet's eyepiece, Curze was able to clearly see the markings on the gunship at this moment.

They don't belong to the Midnight Blades or the Emperor's Children, they belong to the Word Bearers. The paint was gray with a hint of dark red, and the scriptures were all over the wings, densely packed, like gnawing by a swarm of insects.

The Lord of Night made no comment on the matter, having learned early on the necessity of silence. After a few seconds, he simply lowered his head and stopped paying any attention to the sky.

The Night Blades were cleaning the battlefield. They had captured another Lar city in the past hour. Under the personal leadership of the original body, this time was not considered efficient.

The corpses of the aliens were thrown into the fire one after another, with four arms and snake tails, extremely twisted. Curze looked at the fire closest to him and took a deep breath.

The breathing grille did not filter the air against his will, and he did not smell the stench of burnt flesh and blood. In fact, he smelled something fishy, ​​like old dead fish that had been placed in the cellar.

After a brief silence, Kurtz turned on the filtering function again.

He turned around and walked past the many corpses he had created with his own hands, and the broken limbs were ruthlessly crushed under his steps. He did not avoid their thoughts, his eyes were indifferent, as if he had stepped on garbage without any care or awareness.

A Night Blade without a helmet came up to him. This man's face was fierce and gloomy, and one of his eyes was a dull metallic gray. It was obvious that he had installed the metal prosthetic eye not long ago, and the rejection reaction caused the flesh and blood around the right eye to become red and swollen.

"What's the matter, Drasok?" the Lord of Night asked in a soft tone.

His fourth company commander lowered his head silently, his expression relaxed a little. It looked like he was mourning, but his voice was as heavy as swords striking each other.

"I apply for the Oath of Vengeance."

The Lord of Night narrowed his eyes.

"Have you thought about it?" he asked simply and clearly. "There's no turning back, Drathok."

"I've thought about it." The fourth company commander replied slowly. "My mind is clearer than ever, Primarch. I have found myself, I have seen the truth."

Konrad Curze slowly took off his helmet, not allowing himself and his heir to be separated by metal and eyepieces at this moment.

The oath of revenge.

After officially participating in the Great Crusade, a new tradition was born among the Nightblades. The Great Crusade was a war, a confluence of many, almost never-ending wars. Sacrifice or bloodshed are commonplace, and there is absolutely no way to avoid them.

After battle after battle, those who were still standing were determined to comfort the souls wandering in the darkness with more blood.

"In that case, I allow it." The Lord of Night replied majestically. "Dye your hands red with the blood of your brothers, Drasok, and you will not stop until the blood of your enemies has completely covered them."

"As you command," Karl Drasok hissed, and immediately turned away.

Generally speaking, not every Night Blade can apply for the Oath of Vengeance. Only those military officers or highly recognized killers can obtain this 'honor'. They usually ask people more senior than themselves to serve as witnesses of the oath.

Staring at the back of the fourth company commander turning away, Konrad Coates put on his helmet and turned away silently. He stayed away from the battlefield and found a rather remote ruins to stay temporarily.

The sounds of Land Raiders and Rhino troop carriers rumbled not far away. Curze listened to them casually and sat on a broken stone pillar.

His cloak moved automatically in the dark, the scarlet color slowly floating. The smelly sea breeze blows from the far side of the atoll city, very slowly, but never gentle. The Lord of Night tapped his fingers on his knee armor, listening to its dull echo, and suddenly spoke.

"Did your investigation reveal anything?"

In the darkness, two bits of blue light slowly lit up.

A giant wrapped in darkness walked out heavily. The water under his feet immediately froze, and it was an extremely dark abyssal ice, which was extremely ominous. The pale skeleton exuded a cold aura, and there was a little blue light escaping from the eye sockets.

"The Lal cities are very interesting," said Khalil. "They did not build cities based on geographical advantages, but based on certain laws."

"Principle?" The Lord of Night turned his head, tilted his head and observed the skeleton. His actions are very intimidating, especially when he is wearing a helmet. Unfortunately, the people he stared at were already immune to most fears.

Khalil spoke softly and answered Coze's question.

"Your brother Fulgrim issued a battlefield overview to me from the Emperor's Pride. According to the existing information, the cities of the Lars can almost be regarded as a certain star map. All cities are fragments. Falling stars, just waiting for a clue or something to completely link them together.”

The face of the Night Lord under the helmet became serious for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice became low: "Is it them?"

"I didn't smell that stench, nor did I see any suspicious signs." The skeleton said calmly. "The Laer people are indeed suspicious, but they are not paying attention to this place. In addition, Conrad, do you know where the gunboats of the Word Bearers are going?"

"Did you see their gunboats too?"

The skeleton seemed to smile.

"With such an overwhelming battle, I think it would be hard for me not to see it. They are going to the religious center of the Laer people. A temple city, or in other words, a huge alien church. You probably know the attitude of the Word Bearers towards the alien gods without me saying it."

"Are they going to burn that place? That's good, I will applaud to show my support." Conrad Curze said this with little interest. "I'm sorry, but I'm not very interested in the ruthless attack of religious exclusion of dissidents."

"Me too. But they are the Empire's legion after all."

"Do you want us to get involved?"

"That will depend on your opinion." Khalil raised his head and glanced at the sky that was getting darker and darker. "Darkness is our hunting ground after all."

"Let me think about it for a while." Konrad Curz said.

He took off his helmet again, and with the sound of mechanical operation and gas release, he turned his helmet over.

The eyepiece was scarlet, with gold and midnight blue stubbornly lingering on the edge. Everything was so gloomy and terrifying, but with an elegance and nobility that came from nowhere.

The Midnight Ghost bared his teeth in disgust and said in Nostramo: "Do they have to add such complicated patterns with unknown meanings?"

Khalil didn't speak, just smiled.

"I can see you smiling even through the mask!"

"Well, congratulations?"

Coz sighed very obviously, and poked the bat wings on the edge of the helmet with his fingers: "You should know that I don't really want to stand with the Word Bearers."

"Why?"

"I don't like religion." The Primarch said bluntly. "This has nothing to do with Lorgar. I just simply hate believers, especially such fanatical believers. Standing with such people, I will have difficulty breathing."

"It sounds like you have some kind of religious allergy." Khalil also tilted his head like Curz. "But you should be healthy, Conrad, you are unlikely to be sick."

At this moment, in the nearly inverted vision, he could clearly capture every bit of helplessness on Conrad Curz's face-it was a look of him trying to convince himself, quite helpless, and quite

interesting.

"Are you smiling again?" Curz asked with his eyes narrowed.

"Yes." Khalil nodded. "I can't help it. I can't help it."

"Tsk"

"What does tsk mean?"

"It means--"

Conrad Curze slowly stood up from the stone pillar, his cloak fluttering in the wind. He raised his hand and put on his helmet. The action was ordinary, but it was as solemn as a king wearing a crown himself.

"--You have succeeded in annoying me, Khalil."

"I can't bear such an honor."

The Lord of the Night ignored this sentence.

--

Fulgrim looked down at the burning ground solemnly through the porthole of the transport plane. It was dark, but the burning alien city could illuminate half of the sky. The Primarch retracted his gaze, closed his eyes, and meditated for the last time.

In fifteen minutes, he will go to the battlefield in person, throw away the cumbersome restrictions of strategizing, and kill the enemy as a warrior again. He has been looking forward to this moment for a long time. How can he not go to the front line in the conquest with the participation of the Emperor's children?

If it weren't for the fact that the three legions must have a commander to see the overall situation and issue orders, Fulgrim would not have forced himself to stay on his flagship for so long. However, among the three primarchs, who else could take on this responsibility besides him?

Lorgar Aurelion is a good speaker, but his military talent is not that outstanding.

Conrad Curze is a very terrible commander, but that is only based on the situation when he commands his own legion. He is a general with a partiality.

Fulgrim is different. In the pursuit of perfection, he has already knocked on the door of omnipotence without knowing it. Under his command, the joint action of the three armies was very successful.

In just two days, they completely dragged the world of the Laer people into a sea of ​​fire. If they attacked alone, it would probably take a month. Thinking of this, Fulgrim couldn't help but feel a little fortunate that he had found help.

He didn't feel ashamed of this idea. Maybe he would have in the past, but now there is no need. Always refusing help from others is essentially just a kind of paranoia, especially in war.

If he wants to use the blood of his offspring to build a staircase leading to the door of perfection, how lowly would he be?

The Chemos people would never let themselves become like that.

With such thoughts, he slowly opened his eyes. The specially made transport plane has been reduced in many places to fit his body, but some decorations that are considered "necessary" are still retained.

For example, an eagle claw flag and an eagle wing flag, they are gifts sewn by a group of grateful civilians, representing the gratitude of a world. The material is not precious, and the craftsmanship can be called cheap.

However, for so many years, Fulgrim has never let these two flags truly stay out of his sight. To him they were beyond honor.

"Kasuolong." Phoenix suddenly called out. The person he called was his first company commander, Julius Casoron, who was also the captain of the Phoenix Guard. I have followed him for many years and am very loyal and skilled.

"Primarch, I am here." Kasolon responded immediately. The golden eagle face on his helmet fluttered against the purple background, and his scarlet eyes stared closely at his original body. "What are your orders?"

"How should we win?" Fulgrim asked softly a question that should not be considered by Kasolon at all. The captain was stunned.

He had recently used a shuttle to return to the Emperor's Pride, and as captain of the Phoenix Guard, he was required to accompany the Primarch when he went on a campaign. Over the years, he has learned a lot about war.

However, what the original body was asking about at this moment was beyond his expectation.

"This does not seem to be a question I should think about, Primarch." Kasolon answered cautiously.

"You are one of my most important commanders." Fulgrim seemed to smile. “How to win should be at the top of your list of things to think about.”

Phoenix's shining lips and his half-smiling expression should have been attractive, as countless men and women who had screamed for him could attest.

However, his eyes were so calm and powerful.

Kasolon was speechless for a moment. He had no idea how to answer the original's question, which made the moment a little more awkward. Fortunately, Fulgrim did not continue to stare. He quickly looked away and turned his attention to the two eagle flags again.

"My brothers' legions have all rushed towards the religious center of the Lar people, Kasolon. According to some survey results, the Lar people are not a society where technology dominates the mainstream of thought. They believe more in religion."

"Such regimes are more cohesive, but also have more obvious weaknesses. Typically, their religious center is their center of rule. This is the decisive battle, my son."

Phoenix stretched out his hand and touched the two flags affectionately. His violet eyes truly began to burn, beautiful and intimidating, radiant and extremely sharp.

"And we will prevail," he declared. "We will completely eliminate the last chance of survival of the Lar people and drive this alien form from the human galaxy!"

There is one more chapter. ,

I'm late because I'm not in good condition, sorry.