40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 287 7. An inhumane, inhumane, efficiency-oriented workaholic

The rain curtains of Ullanor are trembling in the solemn singing. Hundreds of thousands of singers have been recruited from all over the galaxy. The skills they have cultivated throughout their lives are now shining brightly in the triumphal ceremony. They added glory to the triumphal ceremony, and here their skills were finally realized.

At this moment, some people were singing in a low voice, some were praising loudly, and some were humming vague songs with no intonation. Their voices together, under the coordination of some kind of power, rose to a higher realm. Complex, yet harmonious, everything is so perfect, so solemn that it almost makes people cry.

Amidst the singing, the soldiers of the Imperial Army took the lead in walking through the gray-white path that had been paved in advance and embarked on another obsidian avenue. Armored vehicles, tanks, and self-propelled artillery rumbled behind them, and the torrent of steel rolled in with unstoppable force.

The imperial flags fluttered at both ends of the road, towering to the sky, but they could only reach the tops of the Titans' heads. Hundreds of huge war machines moved forward, shaking the ground, majestically moving forward, and the sound they made was far louder than thunder.

The Phalanx Astartes followed, with almost all the legions showing up. Even Lorgar Aurelion, who refused to come, sent a part of the Word Bearers. Their armors were shining and their expressions were proud. Even those who were most indifferent to fame and wealth were puffing up their chests at this moment.

However, it wasn't just the ground that was occupied by imperial power, the sky was also obscured.

The clouds were dark, and the large presence above the orbit cast shadows downwards. Countless steel falcons flew across the sky in order, and the ammunition fired from the place where weapons should have been mounted exploded in the air like bright star fragments.

On the high platform, Kalil silently withdrew his gaze.

He couldn't comment on the situation, it wasn't his area of ​​expertise. Furthermore, he didn't think he needed to make any comments - even a blind man could probably tell what kind of event this was from the sound.

Moreover, the military parade is just a prelude to the triumphal ceremony, and the real highlight is yet to come.

He looked into the shadows and caught the figures of the Imperial Guards. They are meticulously inspecting the entire high platform with an unprecedented active attitude. Needless to say what this means, there is only one person in the entire galaxy who has such qualifications.

Khalil folded his hands habitually and silently let his thoughts go. Instead of standing with the Primarchs, he chose a solitary corner. The parade has begun and everyone has their place.

The Primarchs stood in the best position, their guards standing not far behind them, then the painters, the chroniclers, the officials and the servants

The corner that Khalil chose was not among any of them. The exquisite design of the high platform gave every corner a good view. In fact, there was not much difference no matter where he stood.

The so-called 'best' place for the Primarchs was actually just the closest to the Emperor.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but chuckle. It's not that he was laughing at it, but he simply thought it was ridiculous - yes, his sense of humor had never been normal, and it had already appeared when he was still on Nostramo.

After all, you can't expect a normal sense of humor from someone who greets a gargoyle.

"What are you laughing at?" A voice sounded from behind him, with a slight sound of the robe dragging on the ground, and the metal collision of the scepter as it fell heavily to the ground.

Khalil knew who this was without looking back. Although he knew, he was still a little surprised by his appearance.

"Are you here?" he asked without looking back.

"Of course a loyal servant like me would not miss such an occasion." Malcador approached him and laughed hoarsely. "He threatened me even though I didn't really want to come."

"Threat?" Khalil raised his eyebrows. "What did he say?"

"He threatened to auction off all my small collections. Da Vinci's manuscripts and Napoleon's portraits." The printer sighed and shook his head. "He didn't even choose the right plan. Who knows the true value of these antiques now?"

"Maybe I will bid." Khalil smiled slightly. "These are priceless treasures."

"It's just useless garbage, a slightly larger particle in the dust of history, not worth mentioning." Malcador said, and then he reached out and released the scepter.

A ray of light flashed on the surface of the golden eagle, and the scepter stood calmly on the spot. The palmer adjusted his stance so that he could lean on it and temporarily share some of his fatigue.

Khalil narrowed his eyes, lowered his head, and took a good look at Malcador for a while.

The latter did not refuse his visit and even took off his hood generously. That face was a bit older than the last time I saw him. He was so decayed that almost only his eyes still looked like the energetic old man he once was.

Khalil immediately took his hand seriously.

"What on earth are you doing, Malcador?" He frowned, almost angry. "It's only been a few decades, how can you become so old?"

"Oh, sir, I'm just a mortal, and of course I will grow old -" the palm-printer replied humorously, a smile fleeting, and after it ended, he immediately changed the subject. "——Of course, if you want to know, I can't tell you..."

"Then say it."

"Prying into destiny." Malcador replied softly. "And this is the price I paid. He was noticed by them and almost became a blind person. I am different. They despised me and tolerated my slight advances."

"Just for this?" Khalil couldn't hold back his anger after all, and his voice suddenly became higher. "Is this why you have toiled yourself into this state?"

"Before you accuse me, you should first look at what you have done before, Khalil." Makado laughed, surprisingly open-minded.

He took out the hand held by Khalil and used it to hold the scepter. The golden light flashed in his eyes. The hood automatically moved without wind, covering his white hair and decayed face.

The palmer spoke softly again.

"What we want to do does not tolerate any possibility of failure, so even if it costs more, I will spy on it. I know you will probably say, why not go to Konrad Curze and Sanguinius. Yes, I can indeed go to them, and they will be willing to help me. But who can guarantee that the future they see will be correct?”

"Then how can you be sure that what you saw is correct?" Khalil asked.

"I can't guarantee it," Malcador said. “But I don’t need them to be right either, in fact, quite the opposite, I need them to be wrong.”

Khalil was slightly startled.

"This is an insurance policy, my friend." Malcador told him gently. "As you might think, my mistakes prove them right. The more mistakes I make, the more right they become. Do you understand?"

"I don't understand," Khalil said. "But I respect your choice."

"That's enough." Malcador said softly.

He held the scepter and was silent for a brief moment. Khalil said nothing, just stood side by side with him.

The rain was falling and the crowd was roaring. The power and power of the empire reached its peak at this moment. Countless alien races have been destroyed, and most of the human world that was once separated in the old night has now been recovered.

Everything seems to be moving in a beautiful direction, hope shines at the end of the road, and people are full of expectations for the future. However, only a few people know what the future really looks like.

Malcador held his scepter sadly, his figure seemed to be swaying.

He had never been so emotional, never been so sad for a moment. He almost shed tears, but the one who holds the seal has no blood or tears. The will buried under his old and decaying skin forcefully erased everything, leaving only the calm.

Khalil slowly raised his head and looked up at the sky. He didn't know what the future would be like. He only had a vague premonition and a few words of perception. But it was enough, as it had always been. Eternal years pass by in a snap of the fingers. He has made it this far without any regrets.

But at this moment, there was an invisible golden light shining quietly in the rain curtain. A person who wanted to come but could not come chose to experience this short moment with his friends in this way.

This is a moment that only belongs to the three fools, and a moment that no one knows except them. All sacrifices begin here, all beauty passes away, no one can understand, no one can share, no one can capture.

There is only silence, only determination.

The chess game is undecided.

After a few minutes, the light faded, and Malcador closed his eyes and used his spiritual power to guide the choir to perform the climax of the military parade.

Millions of pairs of eyes looked towards the high platform at this moment, golden light burst out, the rain curtain was stilled, the promethium torches that shot straight into the sky were burning brightly, and the pale eye sockets of the orcs actually reflected the golden light.

The humid air in Ullanor suddenly began to change. A blazing sun slowly rose from the center of the high platform accompanied by strong winds. The emperor wearing golden armor appeared in the light. The Lord of Mankind is enveloped in radiance, not a god, far more than a god.

At this moment, primarchs, soldiers, Astartes, painters, chroniclers, officials, servants, and even the unintelligent servitors all stared at him, unable to look away. Out of tens of millions of eyes, only two were not looking at him.

After a few seconds, the Emperor finally spoke.

The sky was no longer gloomy, the stars were bright, and his armor shone brightly. Warm, but also eye-catching, people could hardly keep their thoughts and could only stare at him blankly, waiting for what he was going to say next.

The air trembled, the stars were silent, and his voice finally sounded in everyone's ears at this second.

he declared simply.

"We won."

Then the mountain roar and the tsunami swept over.

update completed.

Trying to write something epic