40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 264 35. Judgment Day (4)

Khalil opened his eyes and left the country built with his power. He couldn't stay long, the place welcomed him, that was the problem.

It was so welcoming to him.

It was almost crying and begging him to live in it forever, promising all conditions and giving supreme power.

True to form, Khalil put it behind him.

In the dark hall, the Raven Guards slept quietly. There are more than 60,000 people, a huge number, but it is still too few compared to the legion unit. This can also prove the authenticity of something - Horus is deliberately controlling the number of the 19th Legion.

for what? Is it easier to control? Khalil had the answer, but he didn't bother to tell it.

The Primarchs were extremely emotional beings who were endowed with extraordinary strength and intelligence, but this was not enough, far from it. These two things can always be abused, the only difference is the degree of abuse.

Horus Luperkar, the glorious Wolf-god, was the epitome of brotherhood and the man who single-handedly created the current Terran Raven Guard. Two extremes, two opposites, two completely different examples.

Primarch, Legion.

Legion, Primarch.

Two mirrors, mortals bearing the Primarch's blood reborn as Astartes, with faces similar to their father's, they should have been closer to Corax in some places. However, as things stand, they are actually more aligned with Horus.

You have to admit the absurdity of it, and you have to be embarrassed by the situation that Corus Corax found himself in.

Among the Primarchs, he was the last to return, and he was an idealist. His ideal may be successful on one or two planets, but if he looks at the entire galaxy, it is a stupid joke that is out of reach.

The life of every idealist is a constant pain, and the gap between imagination and reality is so large that they suffer heavy blows again and again. In this process, some people will change, some will go crazy, and some will end up committing suicide by drinking bullets.

Which one does Corus Corax belong to?

Khalil didn't have an answer, and he didn't bother to think about the answer. Or rather, he didn't have the means to think about the answer.

He just looks, he can only look.

He saw the Raven Guard stand up.

Corus Corax said it was a trial, and yes, it was. But in his context, judgment is placed after trial.

Those who fail the test will spend the rest of their lives atoning for what they have done. They will not die, their honor will not be erased, and neither will their names.

They would simply be forever removed from the Primarch and the Legion.

To the Raven Guard, this is worse than death. Corax's kindness was to some extent the last poison they wanted to drink, but they had no choice. That's how cruel things are.

When a Legion is branded as another Primarch this is what is bound to happen.

This isn't right.

Khalil frowned, and his perspective of the world seemed to be covered with a veil.

From this perspective, time becomes useless, and his own perspective of observing the world begins to become detached and indifferent, as if he is an audience observing other people's lives from a third-party perspective.

Everything no longer has a sense of reality, but has become a simple description that can be explained clearly in a few words.

It wasn't until the bell rang in his ears that he understood what had happened.

War, he has experienced too many wars.

The dead were countless, and every war was beyond his previous understanding of the word, whether it was the Astartes, or the Auxiliaries, or those who refused to surrender. Every dead person was in his mind. roared.

The Zorosian sergeant had to cross the line between life and death to hear their call, but he did not. Their calls, pleas, and screams are all clearly audible. Under the influence of power, they roll in, more terrifying than a tsunami.

He lost his clear grasp and scale of every day he experienced, and he began to observe everyone and everything with a completely detached attitude. Even if he wanted to say something or do something, he couldn't.

Is this the price? Or, the revenge of the dead?

In a meaningless period of time, he saw the Raven Guards rise up, another sermon from Corvus Corax, and the departure of the Raven Guards a few days later.

He also saw the slightly doubtful look in Conrad Coates's eyes, heard his questions, and his own answers.

"War changes anyone, Conrad," he heard himself say. "You have learned that no sacrifice is allowed compared to what we are fighting against."

Konrad Curze was silent for a long time, and the Lord of the Night used his talent again. After that, he said nothing and just smiled sadly.

Time stretched out again, and Khalil tried to stay here, he tried to explain to Konrad Coze, tried to say something.

Unfortunately, he couldn't do this.

Khalil sighed slowly and turned his head. He saw a ray of golden light emerging from the darkness and the heavy sound of the scepter touching the ground.

"This is their judgment on you. As a god, you have failed them." The man in the golden light said. "I said you should use your power with caution, but you just don't listen. Look at what you look like now, Khalil Lohars, are you satisfied?"

He paused for a moment, then spoke again with a slight rebuke.

"Corax's problem can be solved by himself. You can just make one or two suggestions instead of personally helping. The curtain is the curtain. It is not tolerant to them, and naturally it will not be tolerant to you."

"Are you complaining?" Khalil asked.

"Sounds like it," said another.

He held his scepter tightly, his silver hair streaked across his old face, and his eyes were as sharp as an eagle. "But you deserve the complaints, Khalil Lohars. You did a stupid thing."

"Have I not done enough?"

"It's not as stupid as this one." The person holding the seal said. “How much of your humanity is left?”

Khalil didn't answer the question and just lowered his head. Following his movements, the surrounding environment suddenly changed, and the broken glacier was revealed again.

Most of the ice that can be called the land has disappeared, and only the piece where the three people are standing can still be called complete.

"It's already happened." Makado seemed to be amazed, and then shook his head as if he was sighing.

"You should really accept my original proposal, stay on Terra, stay away from the war, and provide help to the Great Crusade in another form. Going to the front line in person like you will only weaken the power you hide under your skin. Expanding more and more.”

"Yes." Khalil narrowed his eyes and nodded. He was observing his right hand, and there were already faint cracks on his palm.

The man in the golden light walked out and grabbed Khalil's wrist without any doubt like a doctor. He wears a laurel wreath on his head, has dark skin and frowns. After a moment, a golden light shone in his hand, and under its illumination, the cracks were repaired a little.

"There is only so much I can do," the Emperor said solemnly. "If you do it again, you will become a god."

"I would be more cautious, dear doctor."

"Do not make jokes."

Malcador raised his scepter and tapped the ground.

"The future is still unclear, and what you do may make it a little better, but it may also make it a lot worse. Personally, it would be foolish of you to use your power to save a group of Grand Astartes." Extremely. Look at what you get, is it worth it?”

"If this group of Grand Astartes can kill one more enemy and save one more human in the future, will my behavior still be stupid?"

"Equally stupid and not worth it." Without any hesitation, Malcador nodded. "Your endless self-sacrifice complex is no different from the shining emperor standing next to me. They are all external manifestations of mental illness."

"You two are equally stupid and crazy. It's obviously not the time for you to take action frequently, so why don't you save your strength? The darkness of the future has already stretched out its tentacles to us in some way. "

The palm-bearer suddenly stopped lecturing him and shook his head helplessly.

He already knew that his words were meaningless, and the only reactions given by his glittering emperor and the god in human skin to his words were two similar smiles.

An apologetic but unrepentant smile.

".Do you know how long it has been?" asked the person holding the seal.

"Six years? Seven years?" Khalil raised his eyebrows and guessed with some interest.

"No." The Emperor answered. "It's been a full eighteen years."

Khalil's smile finally disappeared from his face.

"Eighteen years?" He frowned. "Why is the backlash so serious?"

"Because you rejected them too many times, all the dissatisfaction and some kind of call from the power itself were added together to form a bomb." Malcador answered his question with a sigh.

"Its fuse was even lit by you yourself. You awakened the dead from their sleep, but you only awakened those you were willing to awaken. What about the rest? They also have dissatisfaction and hatred. Your hatred. And you—"

"——And I won't refuse anyone who comes." Khalil narrowed his eyes. "So, this power has taken revenge on myself."

"It is now the nine hundred and sixty-fourth year of the thirty millennium." The Emperor began to explain calmly.

“Conrad Curze governed Nostramo very well, and there were many collaborations between him and Robert Guilliman. There were many worlds in the Ghoul Sector that belonged to Nostramo inexplicably. Next. You now have three foundry worlds, twelve agricultural worlds, and twenty-three mining worlds.”

Khalil was silent for a moment and rubbed his face: "How did he do it?"

"Because he also has in-depth cooperation with the Mechanicus." The emperor shook his head. "Conrad Curze has made good use of Nostramo's unique environment, but that is not the most important thing now. It's time for you to return to the real world, Khalil."

"Over the years, your excessively detached perspective has accelerated the efficiency of the Night Blades' conquest, but it has also caused wavering and doubt in your anchors. You need to stabilize them."

"Your description of them sounds like you're describing tools."

The Emperor twitched the corners of his mouth and seemed to smile: "Tools can be used or not. Wake up, you are in the orbit of the planet Kur, and the Ultramarines and Robert Guilliman are also there. ”

He sighed with a complicated look on his face.

Yes, a whole lot of work. Judgment Day is more than just the judgment of the Ravens.