40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 288 8. Brilliant Night

While walking, Khalil observed the surroundings. The rain was falling, and steam was filling the air from the promethium fire pit. The Titan's figure is still clearly visible on the other side of the horizon. This feast representing victory is still going on, and it can even be said that it has just begun.

Fireworks were launched, lighting up the sky, and the soldiers' songs mixed with low chants were carried by the breeze from the other side. It looked like the rain in Ullano would continue for a long time.

The raindrops fell on the shoulders, and the squirming shadows waited patiently for their arrival, chewing every drop slowly and swallowing it into their stomachs. Thirsty, but never greedy, it does not pursue rain that does not belong to it. Because of this, Khalil ignored it.

He has left the high platform and is now walking on the other side of the continent. The scene here is not very beautiful. How can a land that has been devastated by orcs and war be called beautiful? But it has a chilling air about it.

Therefore, beauty becomes irrelevant.

Of course, none of this has anything to do with Khalil.

Maintaining his hard-won rationality, he turned his thoughts back to the past, to the high platform.

To be fair, the Lord of Mankind is not a very good speaker, at least this time, he did not perform very well - he neither described the past with great emotion nor looked forward to the future ambitiously.

Compared to what the title of 'Emperor' should do and the dignity of his status, the words he spoke on that high platform were pitiful, but he did do what he should do.

He thanked the soldiers for their sacrifice and remembered the dead. When he said these words, his tone was very soft, not like the Emperor himself was speaking. Then, he got to the point of the problem directly.

He announced that he would leave the front lines of the Great Crusade and return to Terra to do something he should have done long ago. He also announced that he would hand over the title of Warmaster to Horus Luperkar.

He was convinced that the Wolf God could take charge of the overall situation on his behalf and do whatever he was supposed to do. He hoped that all the imperial troops would obey the orders of Horus as they obeyed him.

How many people will feel uncomfortable with this, and how many people will object to it in their hearts?

Khalil had no answer, but he could see the forced smile on Horus's face on the high platform. Most of the Primarchs sincerely applauded him, such as Sanguinius, Fulgrim, Rogal Dorn, and Robert Guilliman.

As for the group that disapproves, or in other words, completely opposes it.

Khalil stopped and turned around. A male lion was walking towards him from among the flattened mountains.

The luxurious armor crafted by Caliban's own hands has been wetted by the rain. The gems are shining, and the dark green emerald and silver shine with a misty light. Leon El'Jonson just broke through the rain curtain and came to him, with a sense of unreality and extremely complicated eyes.

Khalil was slightly surprised by his arrival - it was certainly not a secret that the Lions would oppose Horus ascending to the position of Warmaster. Most people could probably guess this, but why did he come? What about him?

In the end, Leon El'Jonson himself answered this question.

"Did you know anything about this beforehand, Khalil Lohars?" the Lion asked, staring intently at Khalil.

"Which thing? Do you mean Horus assuming the position of Warmaster, or the Emperor withdrawing from the Great Crusade?"

"The latter," said Leon. "His withdrawal means that the nature of the expedition will change to some extent, and the Great Crusade will be placed entirely into our own hands."

"Isn't it the same before?" Khalil asked back. “Isn’t victory in every war achieved by people’s own hands?”

"I'm not talking about the same thing as you are. He's a symbol and there are countless people who are filled with courage just by the mention of his name, knowing that he's fighting somewhere in the galaxy, just like them."

Leon El'Jonson spoke slowly to make his words sound more convincing. His voice was powerful, penetrating the rain curtain, and even faintly covering up the sound of fireworks exploding in the air.

"This is another level of fighting side by side. And now, he has announced his departure. Can't you see that the soldiers are haunted? They are celebrating, but they are also grieving the departure of the Emperor."

"You should have more confidence in them." Khalil replied meaningfully. "It's impossible for the soldiers of the empire to lose their courage because of this. Besides, he didn't really leave."

The lion frowned and stared seriously for a while, but did not choose to turn the conversation into an argument in which no one could be convinced. This thing was strange and not in line with his style, but Khalil could understand why he did it.

"The dust has settled, and it's impossible for him to change his mind." Kalil said softly. "There is nothing you can do but accept it, Lion."

".I accept this." Leon El'Jonson said slightly dullly. "But that's all I accept."

Khalil sighed and immediately changed the subject. He didn't want to talk to the Lion about it because it would end up being a loud argument, so he quickly brought up something else.

"So, what about Sir Luther? Don't you accept it either?"

Leon El'Jonson immediately narrowed his eyes, and after a moment, he slowly exhaled a breath: "Have anyone ever told you that your ability to change topics is really very blunt."

"I rarely do this." Khalil smiled slightly. "So, you want to talk about him? Or just hear about him from me?"

The lion didn't answer. He stood there, as stiff as a statue in the rain. Khalil looked at him with interest, wondering what kind of reaction the lion would give.

A few seconds later, Leon El'Jonson walked up to him and started walking side by side with him.

——

After a brief thought, Konrad Coates chose to raise his hand and moved a chess piece somewhere on the chessboard. Robert Guilliman gave him a look of extreme disapproval.

Horus Luperkar blinked and shook his head with a strange expression. He seemed to have got rid of the strange emotion before, and was shaking a generous wine glass in his hand.

Jaghatai stood beside him, shaking his head at the same rate, with a sympathetic expression. Vulkan simply raised his forehead and sighed repeatedly, obviously knowing what would happen next.

"Are you regretting your move, Konrad?" Guilliman asked in a deep voice, annoyed.

"No." The Lord of Night shook his head nonchalantly. "You are mistaken, Robert."

"Yes, I think so too." Angron folded his hands and nodded solemnly behind Konrad Coze. "You're wrong, Robert. Conrad has absolutely no regrets."

The Lord of Macragge raised his head and glanced at the Nucerians. He frowned and looked like he wanted to say something, but when the words came to his lips, he could not say them out.

After a few seconds, he simply sighed and laughed helplessly.

With this smile, Guilliman shook his head and simply moved his chess piece forward, returning it to the state of the previous move.

So, Coz immediately pointed at him, raised his arms and shouted.

"You're cheating! Robert!"

"Oh, I can't believe you were fooled." Angron shook his head sympathetically, and the Nucerian's expression looked a mixture of pleasure and gentle ridicule, which was very rare.

Guilliman looked at them in disbelief, spread out his hands, pointed at the chessboard, and then at them, without even saying a word.

Rogal Dorn, who was standing behind him, sighed heavily. Fulgrim shook the red wine glass in his hand, raised his head in pity and took a sip.

"You are really unlucky, Robert." Phoenix said softly. "These two are not good chess players."

"Robert Guilliman cheated?"

Leman Russ laughed loudly, and his voice came from the other end of the tent. Half a second later, he rushed over with a strong smell of alcohol. He was reckless, but also surprisingly deft. He didn't let a drop of wine spill from the wine glass in his hand.

The Fenrisian chuckled, and like a magic trick, he handed over a thick wooden wine glass from behind and thrust it into Guilliman's hand.

"Drink it and I'll forgive you. How about it, Robert! How about it?"

"Why should I ask for your forgiveness?" Guilliman asked, not knowing why.

"Well." Ruth touched his chin seriously. "Of course it's because you cheated."

"I didn't!" Robert Guilliman raised his right hand and waved it as if in protest. "Don't be deceived by Conrad, he is the one who regrets his move!"

"Then do you want to drink?" Ruth looked at him narrowly. "How about at least taking a sip? This is a special brew that I spent a lot of effort to bring from Fenris. I made it myself. Usually I don't give it to others who want to drink it."

Guilliman was silent.

After a few seconds, he picked up the wooden wine glass with difficulty. A painful grunt emerged from his throat, and just as he was about to take the first sip, a hand stretched out from the side and took the glass directly.

The hand was pale, the color of alabaster. Corus Corax then raised his head in front of them without changing his expression and drank the wine in one gulp.

"A blizzard in Fenris!" Russ muttered loudly. "Who is this?! Is this Corvus Corax?!"

Robert Guilliman stared at the Lord of Savior with his mouth open, feeling moved and worried at the same time.

Conrad Coates raised his eyebrows in surprise, but couldn't help but snicker - he was looking forward to the next development, how could he not look forward to it?

Corax almost never drank alcohol.

After a few seconds, Corvus Corax silently put down the glass and handed it back to Russ. The force was great, completely different from his usual movements.

His throat rolled up and down a few times, and the bright amber light spread around the tent under the influence of the cut glass, illuminating the pale face of the original body and the two blushes that were rising on it.

Rogal Dorn stretched out his hand to support him, his face serious, and he glared at Russ. Mortarion, who had been watching and did not choose to participate in the drinking game, snorted coldly, took out a glass bottle hanging on his belt, and handed it to Corax.

"Smell it, it will sober you up. You are too reckless to drink Leman Russ's wine." The Lord of Death said coldly.

"Don't do this next time, brother." Fulgrim walked behind Corax worriedly and rubbed his shoulders. "Ruth's wine is a thing more terrifying than any of the Titans' motor oil."

"I agree," Horus said. "The Cyclone Torpedoes are no match for Russ's Fenris brew."

"Almost comparable to the magma of Nocturne." Vulcan agreed. "This goes beyond wine, Russ. I think your talent at brewing is even better than my craft at forging."

The Khan stroked his long beard, smiled meaningfully, and said nothing.

The Fenrisian looked at them and laughed louder than ever.

"Barbarian." From the other corner of the tent, Magnus shook his head in disgust when he heard the laughter. "I really can't understand why Leman Russ always behaves so emotionally. Can't he be more mature?"

Sanguinius, who was sitting opposite him, did not make any comment on the words of the Crimson King. The archangel was focusing on a brass statue in his hand. It had not yet been carved with a face, but it already had a face. Approximate shape.

Magnus took one look at it and figured out who it was.

"Are you going to make another statue for Horus?" he asked doubtfully. "What number is this, Sanguinius?"

"Quantity doesn't matter," the angel responded gently. "So, what were you just trying to say, Magnus?"

"I want to talk to you about the think tanks." Magnus couldn't wait to put down the book in his hands.

The meeting is over and night is about to fall. The Emperor ended his preaching and even left the ground of Ullanor without stopping, rushing to the orbit. He did not want to waste any time.

The Primarchs knew that the technicians on board the Emperor's Dream had probably already begun making adjustments. They would soon free her from her tiny confines in low-Earth orbit and return to the stars again.

After this, the Emperor will return to Terra - they all know this, but no one wants to mention it at this time. They gathered in this luxurious Primarch-sized tent and briefly forgot some things through chatting and playing games.

Everyone has the right to escape, and everyone must have such a moment of escape. For the Primarchs, this is a rare luxury moment.

They are not like ordinary people who can go through life with an attitude of avoidance. They are born to bear certain responsibilities. But precisely because of this, tonight will become a bright pearl in their long memory.

Also, I’ll update it later, just have a meal first.