40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 298 18. The show is on (1)

"He looked confident," Conrad Coates said casually.

He was tapping the vermilion railings of the box with the fingers of his right hand, and they fell one after another, turning the railings into a dull instrument.

The monotonous sound resounded throughout the entire observation deck. For some reason, this sound reminded Corax of the mine and the sound of iron picks and stones torturing each other.

He lowered his head and looked toward one of the many entrances to the amphitheater. He saw Sanguinius, Fulgrim and today's protagonist, Magnus the Red.

Their guards followed not far behind them. The Blood Angels and the Emperor's Children held their heads high, but the smaller number of Lion Guards seemed a little less confident and even slightly uneasy.

Corax narrowed his eyes and looked at Magnus again, seeing a vague pain on the latter's face - it was obvious that the Crimson King felt that he had been betrayed.

"If you really think so, it only proves that you are too naive, Magnus." The Lord of the Night, standing beside him, whispered, and he also caught the look on Magnus's face. Dark, and his tone sounded anything but sympathetic.

Corax glanced at him, folded the empty bag of dried eels, and put it into his right sleeve. He poked it gently with his fingertips. The bag made of special material did not make any sound, only the feeling of depression was returned from the fingertips.

The original bodies came to the center of the field, with the golden high platform above their heads. The Imperial Guards, holding genuine killing weapons, surrounded both sides of the high platform, killing in solemn silence. A skinny old man in black robes, holding a scepter, stood in the center of the high platform, looking down seriously.

There was a bright light beside him, waiting quietly. The owner of the light was sitting on the throne, with an eagle flapping its wings behind him. His face is blurry, and even with an extremely disrespectful gaze, you can only get a little bit of the light.

Or a pair of golden eyes, or lightning, or a sun.

The three Primarchs in the field began to salute silently, while their guards took a knee. Sanguinius spoke first, his voice soft yet powerful enough to carry throughout the theater without the aid of any amplification equipment.

"Magnus has arrived, Father."

There were no greetings, no honorifics, no proud titles like 'Lord of Prospero' and 'Red King', just a simple 'Magnus has arrived'.

The venue was immediately filled with noisy waves. Anyone who could appear here today was definitely not an idiot. They could all see something from Sanguinius's attitude. Magnus was naturally no exception. His remaining single eye was burning with a red-orange light at the moment.

After half a second, the emperor slowly spoke.

"Thank you, my son. Rise up, guards. No one needs to kneel today."

Before he finished speaking, the sound of the waves in the amphitheater had stopped. There was silence, and the scene was almost absurd. Everyone turned their attention to the emperor, waiting for his next words. But he didn't say anything more. Instead, Machado walked down.

The bearer held the scepter in his hand and arrived in front of the three original bodies slowly like a real old man.

Cozz grinned suddenly, and his deep laughter circulated quietly in the darkness of the observation deck. Corax looked at him in confusion, the question not yet asked but the explanation already coming.

"There is a good show, dear Raven." The Lord of the Night smiled happily, turned his head and gestured to him. There was an obvious bad expectation on the pale face of the dead man.

Corax looked at him, and somehow, he suddenly saw the true emotions behind this smiling face.

"Are you worried about him?"

"Of course not." The Lord of Night turned his head and lay on the railing. "Of course drama is best when you see it, and whatever Khalil Lohars is doing, I can't see it right now. So why should I worry about him?"

Corax shook his head and said no more.

At this time, off the field, the three original bodies placed their right hands on Malcador's scepter and solemnly and briefly swore an oath. No matter what the tone is, no matter whether the rhetoric is gorgeous or not, these three oaths can be summed up simply.

They swore an oath to be honest with everyone at the Council of Nicaea, and to speak the truth as they knew it under the Emperor's gaze, without any deception or falsehood.

After that, there were another tedious ritual steps, which made people sleepy, until the last servant belonging to Malcador sealed an oath belonging to Magnus with hot wax. The matter has just ended.

There were three scrolls in total, recording the oaths of the Primarchs, with the Emperor's mark on the top as witness. Malcador nodded to the servants, and they raised their hands above their heads and slowly left with the scrolls. Then, the meeting really started.

"Then, the Nicaea meeting will officially begin from now on."

Malcador raised his scepter and let it fall gently to the ground. A strong tremor immediately spread throughout the theater, and with a flash of light, the face of the person holding the seal was completely obscured by the golden light. He was not speaking for himself at this moment, but for the person behind him.

"Red tape is meaningless, so I'll be more direct. The main content of this meeting is only one thing, that is, the think tank system. We are here across the galaxy just to completely solve this problem."

The palmer paused for a moment and gave everyone some time to discuss with each other.

"For a long time, the discussion of psychics and witchcraft in the Empire has been clearly divided into two camps. One side believes that the term "witchcraft" is ignorant and short-sighted, just another form of persecution in the new era, forged by fear and ignorance." "The other side believes that psychic power is extremely dangerous and should never be fully trusted. It should be controlled or even banned. Now, everyone, you can start debating with each other." Amid the exclamations caused by his words, the Sigillite slowly raised the scepter, the Skyhawk's eyes lit up, and his voice swept through all the noise at this moment, resounding in everyone's ears. "Who will speak first?" "I will." A voice said. The speaker came from the Space Wolves' box, named Osherwodmek, a rune priest. In the primarchs' box, Leman Russ grinned. He raised his head and finally drank the first sip of wine after arriving in Nicaea, but he did not drink it all at once, but just tasted it. Mortarion snorted lightly: "You owe me one, Russ."

"What?" The Fenrisian looked at him. "What do I owe you?"

Mortarion stared at him, and the silence stretched for a few seconds. Russ laughed and patted him on the back, causing a sound of glass jars colliding with each other.

"Okay, okay, I owe you one - thank you for giving the opportunity to Oshervodmek to speak."

"So, what is he going to say?" The Lord of Death asked again, and watched Oshervodmek walk through the stairs, the boxes and the recorders sitting on the sidelines to the Emperor's platform.

There was a wooden pulpit there, which could even accommodate the Primarch, and it was more than enough for him. The Rune Priest raised his hands rudely, pulled open the sliding door of the pulpit and walked in.

He raised his head and began to speak, his voice was by no means friendly - although the wolves of Fenris were not related to the word friendly, there were not many moments when they looked so ferocious as the Rune Priest at this moment.

He didn't seem to be here to make accusations, but to kill people.

"You'll know when you listen." Russ shook his glass and took another sip.

"I am Osherwodmek of the Space Wolves." The Rune Priest stood in the pulpit and raised his hands, showing everyone the tattoos on his arms.

"I once fought with the Thousand Sons of Magnus the Red, Shrike or Achor, you can check it yourself, I'm too lazy to repeat it. What I want to say is that everyone in the Fifteenth Legion is an evil wizard. They abuse witchcraft and magic wantonly. In the presence of the Emperor and Leman Russ, I swear that everything I say is true."

The theater was in uproar again. Osherwodmek's accusation was simply appalling, but this was just the beginning, far from the end.

Magnus's Lion Guards looked at the Rune Priest in shock and anger, as if they had a history with him, and they never expected that Osherwodmek would stand here today and accuse them.

"Does anyone support him?" Malcador raised his scepter sternly and touched it to the ground again to stop the noise. "Does anyone support Osherwodmaker's accusation against the Fifteenth Legion?"

"It's your turn, brother." Russ stopped laughing and stuffed the wine glass to Mortarion. "How about it? Take a sip?"

Fenrir's special wine, which belonged to the Wolf King, created ripples in the wooden wine glass. The Lord of Death looked down at the wine glass, then looked up at him, and actually reached out to take off the respirator.

"Oh?" Russ looked at him in surprise.

"I'll just take a sip." Mortarion said coldly, and he really took a sip as he said, and handed the wine glass and respirator to Russ, indicating that he would keep them temporarily.

He walked to the observation deck, and Curze and Corax made way for him. Then, the voice of the Lord of Death immediately resounded throughout the theater.

"I support what Osherwodmaker said," he said, and was not surprised to see Magnus's angry eyes. A smile slowly appeared on that pale face, without any malice, but surprisingly cold.

"I'll say it first, Magnus. What I say next does not contain any prejudice or targeting against you, you can be prepared."

The Red King snorted coldly, as an answer to this sentence.

——

"What's going on?"

A man with an octagonal star engraved on his forehead waved his arms timidly. In front of him was an open sarcophagus, in which lay a giant, his hands and feet were pierced and fixed, and his face was as pale as a ghost.

"Why is he vomiting blood?" The man shouted in panic.

"Don't worry!" Another woman pushed him away viciously and closed the stone coffin. "Go and inform the master! The life of the first born is passing away!"

Yes, code.