40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 293 13. Return to the Perfect City (End)

Angel Tai walked through the ruins, once again. His steps were firm and he never hesitated.

Hemot La Cruz walked in front of him, Battusa Narek behind him, and Khalil Lohars was at the end of the procession. The order in which they came was cleverly reversed. They came for the truth and are now leaving for the truth.

The Word Bearers are no longer afraid of the possible cruelty of the truth, he even longs for it - he must know who personally committed such evil deeds, and who made their original body become like that. A hypocritical and twisted clay doll.

Angel Tai couldn't guarantee that he could remain calm after knowing who it was, but he also didn't want to remain calm at that time.

He already had several guesses, and these possible candidates and their names connected scenes after scenes that were once commonplace but were now full of doubts, allowing the Word Bearer to maintain a calmness as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.

He's angry, but he's calm - because it's not the time to kill yet.

They stepped on the ice-like mist, their footsteps sounding like they were loading bullets into the magazine. But instead of a bolter, it's an assault shotgun.

Armor-piercing projectiles.

There was a sound of footsteps, and one bullet was pushed into the magazine, then another sound, and another one. Orderly, cold and ruthless.

They walked back at least twenty-six kilometers before reaching their destination. The mist and blazing red debris stopped on a bulge at the end of the road.

It was one of many inconspicuous ash heaps within the city, but since their path stopped here. Hermott La Cruz raised his hand and made another aquila salute.

He bent down devoutly and recited the name of the God-Emperor. When his hands touched the pile of ashes, his expression turned into a collection of rage inside the helmet.

The hermit began to excavate it without any hindrance, sinking his cold gauntlets deep into the ashes and scooping up a handful of ashes, repeating the cycle endlessly.

The bulge soon became flat under the digging of his hands, and after a while, it changed from flat to a deep pit.

Khalil didn't say anything to stop or help. He didn't need to stare to see the hermit's hatred, so it was better to let him channel it now.

Soon, something emerged from beneath the pit. The hermit stopped digging, stood up from the pit, and took down a heavy book from his waist.

It is not bound by paper pages, but by metal, with cold gray bumps on the four corners, which not only strengthens the book itself, but also locks the pages so that they cannot be opened and read.

A heavy chain stretched out from behind the spine of the book, making it hang from a handle. The grip is now in the hermit's hand.

Hemot lowered his head and raised his right hand high. A thousandth of a second later, it fell heavily.

"boom!"

With a muffled sound, a hole opened in the glass-like earth, and the true appearance underneath was also exposed. Hemot raised his head, took off his helmet with one hand, and hung it back on his waist.

He looked at Khalil, with obvious hatred on his face: "It seems that this is it, sir."

Khalil nodded slightly.

A few minutes later, they entered the world under the glass earth through the widening crack. It looks like an underground chapel, but it somehow survived the attack by the battleships that washed the ground.

But it is not made of stone, concrete or any steel, nor is it mud, wood or the more primitive straw hut.

The walls are constructed of human skin and internal organs, and the general frame is made of human bones. The specially roasted fat spreads stickyly between the bones, meat, and skin in another form to serve as a connection.

The benches for believers are made of wood, but the traces of eight-pointed stars are evenly carved on the backs of the chairs. A podium was placed under two huge pieces of stitched skin, with two candles exuding a rotten smell lingering on its corners.

Disgust, hatred and anger choked the throats of the Word Bearers, preventing them from speaking a word, not even Hemot Lacruz.

The hermit hugged his book tightly, and the sensors faithfully transmitted the trembling of his fingers to his gauntlets. They collided with each other, making a metallic echo, dull and annoying.

Khalil, however, remained calm - he had seen worse things a long time ago, and he was angry that it was not good to delay what he wanted to do.

He walked over to the pulpit, and the candle moved without any wind, trying to ignite itself. As soon as his eyes narrowed, the burning stopped, and then it immediately melted, turning into a collection of soft tissue and fat that covered the entire countertop.

He ignored the uncomfortable scene and began to observe the podium, but there was nothing unusual about it. The wooden base and metal surface were filled with a boring monotony. Khalil stared at it, raised his head, and observed the two pieces of skin again.

Their surface is tender and has not experienced any weathering. There was no trace of the small setbacks that humans should experience in their growth. The Word Bearers followed his gaze and soon discovered this.

Battusa Narek suddenly let out a dull cry, and he already realized what kind of skin it was.

Angel Tai held himself down silently and kept himself where he was.

The hermit's reaction was the calmest. He just held his book, opened and closed his lips quickly, and silently recited the scriptures.

Khalil narrowed his eyes, and his index and middle fingers began to rub against his palm unconsciously, not only because of the material of the skin, but also because of the thousands of victims' names and a few sentences on it.

‘.You should come here to look for some traces, Great Darkness. ’

'But it doesn't help. You cannot know who I am, nor can you see my face through the mist of the highest heaven. It's a cruel irony that you were supposed to be a god, but you chose another path. ’

'There is only one evil in the world, and that is ignorance,' Magnus and his Thousand Sons took these words to heart. I mention this to you here for no other reason than to tell you that there are some things that should always be under your control, but you actively choose to be ignorant. ’

‘When things have come to this point, you can’t blame anyone else except you. All living beings in the world have their fate, even me. But destiny is often chosen by oneself. Although I can play with the invisible thread, I cannot control the will of others. ’

‘If a person chooses to be omniscient, how can he become a puppet of fate? But you are different. You actively chose ignorance, chose to bear the worst evil in the world, and were willing to be a mortal. If you remain omniscient and give destiny a new chess player, how can I appear? ’

‘Therefore these people all died because of you, and I made this chapel out of them, and I hope you will like it. In addition, many people have already lost their precious lives because of your choice, and more will probably die in the future, and the people you cherish may be among them. ’

'So, I ask, when are you going to stop being evil? ’

Khalil exhaled slowly.

"I will kill you," he said quietly.

As the words fell, the church began to spontaneously combust. This is not his handiwork in anger, nor is it a supernatural power, nor is it a blasphemous formation, but some kind of program that has already been set.

The burning speed was extremely fast, and the three Word Bearers didn't even react at the first time. They wanted to save this place and preserve the evidence of someone's crime, but they couldn't do it on their own.

There is only one person here who can rely on the power of psychic energy to block the burning power, but he cannot do so.

This is a church.

Whose church?

Khalil lowered his head, his eyes lit up with two flashes of blue light.

He began to resist the last hatred and cry brought by the burning of the victims' bones. It's not difficult to do this, as long as he doesn't use his psychic powers for the time being and does anything other than suppress his instincts.

So, half a minute later, all the incriminating evidence was reduced to ashes, leaving only the shining cave made of glass.

"My lord." The hermit asked in a helpless tone for the first time. Khalil glanced at him without saying a word, his expression extremely silent.

Five minutes later, they were back on the ground.

"What should we do next?" Angel Tai asked.

"You guys go back." Khalil was silent for a few seconds before answering.

There was a flash of blue light in his eyes. If there were psychics here, they would probably recognize that he was communicating psychically just now.

"You return to the Law of Loyalty and find Lorgar Aurelion. But I can't go with you, so don't ask why."

".Then what?" Battusa Narek asked. "The incriminating evidence we have has been burned to ashes. We can't leave the Perfect City with this ashes and go back to track down the murderer."

"What you have to do when you go back is very simple, but there is no need to track down the murderer. He will show up on his own." Khalil shook his head and reached out to pull off his cloak.

The shadow escaped and twisted in the air. It was awakened, but what it did next didn't seem to be quite to its liking. It tried to express its dissatisfaction, but Kalil stared at it coldly, with a cold light shining in his eyes.

After a few seconds, it calmed down. Khalil handed it to Angel Tai and spoke seriously.

"Lorgar Aurelion is probably in an extremely dangerous situation now. You said that he will switch back and forth between sanity and madness. Well, this proves that he still has a little hope. Approach him with this cloak, Ange Er Tai, your primarch awaits your rescue."

The Word Bearer was full of doubts. He didn't understand the riddles, and he didn't understand what the cloak was - but he believed what Khalil Lohars said, so he reached out and took the cloak without fear or hesitation. .

It instantly climbed up his arm like a living creature and came to his back. A slight biting feeling came from his shoulder and neck, along with an extremely cold chill.

"I will save him." Angel Tai said firmly.

"Good luck to you," Khalil said slowly.

——

+ Luo Jia is in trouble. +

+I know. +

+Then why don't you dispatch the fleet? There's still a chance to turn things around, Neos, and it's not too late. +

+ Because I can't, Khalil. It's a dirty game, it has its rules, and I can't break them, or they will have the same reason. Do you know what will happen then? +

+You mean, you want to watch Lorgar Aurelion become their puppet? +

+Yes, saving him will cost more. So yeah, I'm going to watch him fall and we have to get to that future that we see. +

+No, it can't be done. I won't let it end like this. +

+What are you going to do? +

+Don't worry about it, my friend. It was my stupidity that created the future we are looking forward to now. Then, I have a sufficient reason to do anything I do. +

+As a father, I will thank you. +

+But you are not a father now. +

update completed.

By the way, does any reader know how to post a fan title (scratching his head)