40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 296 16. The lighting team is preparing

Perturabo stared silently at the huge amphitheater in front of him, his expression as cold as ever.

It was originally designed by him, and the original idea was to be used as an arena. But the Emperor apparently had other ideas for the hollowed-out volcano, so the Lord of Mankind took over and made some other changes.

Perturabo was curious as to why he did this, but unfortunately, he was too lazy to dig out the reason now.

This was not because of some ridiculous theory of "the Holy Will is unpredictable", Perturabo just suddenly understood that there was no point in doing so - if the Emperor had requests or suggestions for him, then he would naturally speak up.

Rather than racking your brains and trying to dig out insignificant details from every word of the Lord of Mankind, it would be better to do something truly meaningful.

"Abo?" A voice came from his side, interrupting his ocean of chaotic thoughts.

It was Calliphon, tyrant of Olympia, his sister. Perturabo lowered his head silently and saw a worried face.

"What's up?"

He spoke calmly, as if they were not in a bustling amphitheatre, but somewhere on the outskirts of Olympia. The people who were making the noise were not the most distinguished figures in the entire empire, they were just birds or singing cicadas.

"Why don't your brothers come to you?" The female tyrant clenched her cane worriedly. "We've been here for eleven minutes."

Yes, why?

Perturabo raised his head and looked to the left of the box they were in. He did not close the door, nor did the door of another box not far away from him.

He could see Horus Luperkar and Jaghatai Khan talking seriously at a glance. Leman Russ was standing by the railing with a glass of wine, but he didn't drink it, just shook it.

Sanguinius and Fulgrim sat together on the two sofa chairs. It was an expression worthy of being recorded by an artist. Due to the angle, he only saw these people, but he knew that others were also there.

Except for Lorga and Magnus. The Word Bearer, who had become increasingly distant and silent in recent years, stayed with his heirs, and the Crimson King was once again late, for reasons that were neither new nor interesting.

Perturabo narrowed his eyes and clenched the palm of his right hand instinctively. After that, he just answered Califon's words.

"Don't think too much, Olympia's only tyrant. They don't come to me just because you are here."

He softened his tone as much as possible to make his voice less harsh. He tried his best to do this, but with little success. His voice still sounded low and cold, like two pieces of steel colliding with each other in a forge.

Callifon heard his efforts, looked at him in surprise for a moment, and then laughed.

"So, it was me who prevented you brothers from reuniting? I'm so sorry, Abo."

"."

Perturabo shook his head slowly, looking very serious: "I don't like this joke, Califon - but it doesn't matter, I have to leave for a while now, and I have to talk to them about something."

"Go, brother." The female tyrant whispered.

Her tone was quite intriguing, as if she were the Primarch and Perturabo was the old mortal who had only left Olympia once in his life.

Perturabo nodded to her and gestured to Frix, who was in charge of the guard. The city-breaker tapped his breastplate solemnly and swore silently.

Half a minute later, he appeared in the box.

The Primarchs seemed unsurprised by his arrival, those who were talking to each other greeted him with a nod or a smile, others in a more indifferent manner.

However, Perturabo never expected that the first person to talk to him face to face would be Rogal Dorn.

"I heard about what you did in Olympia." Donne spoke slowly. "I have to say, I'm surprised by your kindness, Perturabo."

"Mercy?" The Lord of Steel smiled coldly. "Are you trying to insult me, Dawn?"

——If time could be reversed, perhaps Perturabo would give another answer to this sentence. But it was impossible to turn back time, and it was impossible for him to stop himself from blurting out this almost provocative sentence to Rogal Dorn.

He thought he could be calm about everything now, but he was wrong, and he didn't even know why.

He just couldn't keep calm in front of Rogal Dorn.

"I never meant that." Dawn frowned, apologized seriously, and tried to continue the conversation again. "I apologize if my words made you uncomfortable, brother. But what you did on the Olympia—"

"——Don't mention it, Rogal Dorn." Perturabo squeezed out a few words through his teeth, his tone as cold as if he was being cut with a knife.

"Say something else, or just let me go, and yourself. This is not a place for brotherly love. We all know what we are here for today."

Dorn looked at him silently for a while, nodded, and left. Conrad Coates' voice came from the side of the large external observation deck a few seconds later, with the carelessness he usually carried most.

"It's such a pleasure to listen to the conversation between you two, brother." He said with a chuckle.

The Lord of Steel frowned and walked over. He glanced at the Lord of Night who was testing the durability of the railing with his back, stretched out his hand and pulled him up, his movements were quick and powerful.

"Can't you be more serious, Conrad?" He frowned. "I can't believe no one stopped you from being so imageless."

"Actually, there was, but he gave up. Besides, I'm scary when I'm serious." Curze smiled softly. "So I don't usually have a straight face, don't you think it's better?"

"I don't think so."

"Then you really have no sense of humor at all." Curze smacked his lips and patted Perturabo's shoulder in disdain, the force was not strong, but quite mocking.

Vulkan, who was standing not far away, widened his eyes. He instinctively felt that Perturabo would be furious next, but the Lord of Olympia did not do that.

He just sneered and grabbed the wrist of Curze's hand and threw it off his shoulder.

"It's better to have no sense of humor than to have a weird sense of humor." Perturabo imitated Curz's tone and spoke softly. "Where is Caril Rohals?"

"Why are you asking this?" Curz yawned listlessly, with an obvious sleepiness on his face, but Perturabo didn't buy it.

"How could he not attend such an occasion?" He frowned. "Or is he up there?"

"What up there?" Curz shrugged knowingly and deliberately prolonged his tone. When Perturabo finally showed that he couldn't stand it, he laughed happily and gave the answer.

"No, he's not in that glittering box. Our Nostramo eyes can't stand such a splendid place."

"You mean, he's not going to attend this meeting?"

"Hey, brother, why do you care so much?" Curz approached him, hooked his arm around Perturabo's neck, and asked in a tone that was almost like a whisper without emotion.

His hands were completely cold, like a corpse that had been dead for a long time. The air he exhaled was like the night wind blowing past the target, cold and dead.

Perturabo felt a little uncomfortable, but he held it back. After a few seconds, the Lord of Night let him go and smiled again, as if everything was normal.

"Okay, Abo--" He winked at Perturabo. "--I know you are curious, but I can't tell you the details. This is a secret, do you understand? Just like your attitude towards your sister, it is a secret."

The Lord of Steel snorted coldly and walked away.

Curze looked at his back and judged from his steps that he was not really angry, so he simply put his heart at ease. He narrowed his eyes, leaned back again, and leaned on the railing.

In the darkness beside the observation deck, another pale man was staring at him.

"Corvus Corax." Curze spoke slowly, calling out his name in an aria-like tone. "Why do you always like to run to someone without saying a word?"

"Every time?"

The Lord of the Savior Stars walked slowly to his side, took out a bag of sand eel jerky from his arms and handed it to him. He shook his head, seemingly not agreeing with Curze's statement.

"Not every time, I won't approach others in this way, it will scare them."

"What? I won't be scared?" Curze glared at him, took out a piece of jerky from the bag and swallowed it in one gulp.

"At least you know I'm in the shadows," Corax said slowly. "Others don't know, and they won't be prepared in advance."

"Then I should feel honored?"

"If you feel honored by this, then I will too." Corax made a rare joke, but he didn't give Curze time to laugh. As soon as the topic changed, the Lord of the Savior Stars became serious. "How long will the meeting start?"

"Soon." Curze squinted his eyes. He saw Sanguinius and Fulgrim stand up from their chairs. He knew what they were going to do, so he quickly gave an answer. "About ten minutes, brother. Then we can hear Magnus and his long speech."

"Will he really talk as long as you say?"

"Probably." Curz shrugged noncommittally. "After all, he hasn't realized what this meeting means. If he did, he wouldn't be the last one to come."

Corax nodded thoughtfully. He didn't ask about Khalil, but silently stretched out his arm and handed over the bag of sand eel jerky again.

Yes, code.