40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 283 3. Original body meeting (2)

Sanguinius looked away in surprise and gave Curze a searching look. The Lord of Night continued his evil smile and nodded.

"Yes, he 'recovered'."

"."

The archangel allowed himself to ignore the special accent of Conrad Coze for the moment. He breathed a sigh of relief and smiled.

"I was worried at first, but now it seems that this is unnecessary."

"Oh, it is still necessary, Sanguinius."

Curze casually stretched out his right hand and grabbed the archangel's left hand. The movement was sudden, but with a long-planned swiftness. Sanguinius was slightly startled, but did not stop his brother, but allowed the coldness to seep into his bones.

"It's better to worry about it." The Lord of the Night said softly, with a flash of light in his dark eyes. "If there's one, there's two, and sooner or later he's going to do it again. That's the kind of guy he is, brother, and he's never going to repent."

"Really?" Sanguinius lowered his head and sighed softly. "Thank you for your hard work, Conrad."

Kurtz didn't answer this sentence, he just chuckled and let go of his hand, floating away like a ghost. Sanguinius watched him leave, then turned around and saw the serious face of Rogal Dorn.

"What happened?" Nushi asked in a low voice. "There is some secretive atmosphere in your conversation that I don't quite understand."

"Your description makes Conrad and I sound like members of some kind of secret society, Rogue." Sanguinius chuckled, shook his head, and spoke to Khalil again. "Anyway, I'm glad to see you back, Instructor Khalil."

"Technically, I never left," Khalil said. "But I still want to know what I did in those eighteen years to make you all sigh like this."

"you"

Dawn frowned after spitting out a single syllable, and it was obvious that he had been pondering for a while. He was thinking, as if he wanted his description to not sound too harsh.

"You did something completely different from your past style. You refused to meet and discuss with everyone. Even if it was just a holographic projection conversation, you considered it a waste of time. You suddenly became an efficiency-oriented madman without any warning. .and"

"And what?"

"Also, you give the illusion that you don't exist."

Sanguinius took the words softly, and the archangel's expression became serious. This seriousness was different from his usual expression, and it almost looked like the cruel mask he would only wear during war.

"Even if I see you in person, this feeling will not disappear. It will even be oppressed with another kind of coldness. You seemed to have no emotions at that time, just a machine, or something worse."

Khalil nodded thoughtfully. Did his detached perspective look like this to others? This didn't surprise him much, but

"I have no idea--"

"—Caryl!"

A voice came from the other end of the high platform, loud and hoarse, with an obvious concern. A giant strode forward, wearing bright silver and dark blue armor. Thick steel braids spread out from behind his forehead, shaking in the air.

He approached them and stared at Khalil sternly, his eyes burning.

"Is the real Khalil Lohars standing in front of me now?" Angron asked in a deep voice.

Khalil didn't answer.

He just let go of some restraint, like permission, like a brief escape from the shackles. Angron's talent was fleeting and invisible to ordinary people. The gladiator was slightly startled. He did not expect that his spying would be successful this time.

He had tried three times before, and each time he had been turned away and given a cold warning.

"How?" Khalil asked gently. "Did you see what you wanted to see?"

".Enough." The Nucerian snorted dullly. "You seem paler than before."

"This sentence is not very suitable to say on such an occasion of reunion after a long absence." Khalil chuckled. "But, having said that, this is the first time I see you wearing this kind of ceremonial armor. How do you feel?"

"Terrible," the Nucerian replied hoarsely. "Robert is right, ceremonial armor is indeed not as light as power armor. I especially hate this cloak -"

He reached out and picked up a corner of the cloak behind his shoulders.

"—See? It's so heavy. I don't understand its function at all."

“It’s about expressing identity,” Dorn said. "Just like this high platform, and like my father trying to completely change the surface of Ullanor, in the final analysis, the role of this armor is to try to make you a symbol."

"Symbols are usually statues of gods." Angron narrowed his eyes. "Hello, Roger"

"Hello, Angron." Dorn nodded to him. "Long time no see, at least ten years?"

"Yes." Angron grinned at him, as gently as he could. He looked at Sanguinius again, who was looking at him with concern, his gaze unhesitatingly falling on those steel nails.

"Oh, don't be like this." Angron shook his head. "I told you they won't get any worse, right? They're just old injuries, nothing worth paying attention to."

"Not paying attention?" Sanguinius looked at him sternly. "Do you expect me to turn a blind eye to your occasional displays of pain? You can't ask that of me, Angron, it's not fair."

"What do I ask of you?" Angron muttered, throwing his head back. "I didn't say anything, did I, brother?"

The archangel looked at him seriously for a while, then suddenly stretched out his hand and pulled him over. It wasn't very powerful, but it didn't leave any room for rejection.

"Come with me, you bastard," Sanguinius admonished sternly. "I want to give you some common medical knowledge."

Angron looked at Khalil and Dorn with wide eyes and began to seek help to some extent, but he only received a helpless smile and a calm rejection.

The archangel pulled him away easily. Judging from the serious expression, Angron was probably going to face some situations that would be difficult for him to escape.

Donne looked at it for a while and then withdrew his gaze. He was one of the few people present who was not wearing armor like Curze, and he was still wearing the iconic Archon uniform, with every button buttoned tightly and meticulously.

Stubborn stone turned his head and looked at Khalil with a strange look that he rarely showed. After a while, he spoke.

"Have you talked to him?" he asked seriously.

"Who?" Khalil asked knowingly.

"Who else could it be?" Dorn shook his head. "Lord of Mankind, the Emperor, who else could our father be?"

"You sound a little angry," Khalil said, keenly catching some of the resentment hidden in Dorn's words. This is not easy to do unless you are familiar with Rogal Dorn.

"Not angry, but confused about what he is going to do." Donne corrected him. "He should have told you, Khalil, I'm sure he's told you about it."

Yes, he did say that.

Khalil chuckled: "I probably know what you are worried about - so, he didn't disclose this matter to others?"

"He didn't even reveal it to me. I just guessed it." Dorn folded his hands and touched the medal hanging on his chest with his right hand. A rare melancholy was born on his face under his short gray hair.

If there were a painter here, he would probably kneel on the ground immediately and thank God for this gift - how could Roger Dorn show a third expression besides seriousness and calmness?

"He should have his own considerations." Khalil blinked and began to excuse the emperor. "I believe he should have his own considerations."

"It's no use just believing. What he wants to do will cause the empire to tremble. He must come up with a convincing enough reason instead of-"

Dawn stopped talking and took a deep breath.

"——Rather than keep silent like before, or simply use a great speech that does not reveal any information to make us excited and temporarily forget what he is going to do."

Khalil raised his eyebrows in surprise. He didn't expect Rogal Dorn to say such a thing. What's even more surprising is that Dorn is still continuing and has no intention of stopping.

"And, I know, he will definitely do this. He will definitely explain to us in detail some things that he has already thought about, make some decisions that we cannot accept, and then force these decisions on us. Accept. If someone says no, he will force it with his eyes. If the person still refuses, he will look disappointed. You see, he has so many ways to communicate with us, but he just doesn't want to speak clearly."

Khalil silently packaged this long message and sent it to someone. The answer he received was a sigh and a helpless warning.

+If you are really free and have nothing to do, I can temporarily arrange a position for you to inspect the entire army, Khalil+

+Really? It is an honor, my great, wise and eloquent Majesty. +

The Emperor hung up the communication, quickly, firmly, without hesitation. Dawn took another deep breath, and Khalil thought he would continue, but he didn't. In fact, Donne even spoke up to remind him of another thing.

"It looks like Conrad wants to introduce you to some people."

Khalil raised his head and looked forward. He saw Conrad Curze, and another tall figure.

The latter was wearing pale armor and an ancient-style respirator. A gray hood shrouded his long, withered hair. There was an obvious curiosity in his amber eyes, and he was staring here. .

"That's Mortarion." Dorn explained to him softly. "The Lord of Death, a man who doesn't like to talk much."

Khalil nodded slowly.

update completed.