40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 302 22. The show is on (5)

Conrad Coates lay on the railing, overlooking the scene below.

In the amphitheater, voices surged like waves, and almost everyone was participating in the discussion. They all wanted to know what kind of evidence Magnus would introduce to convince them.

People were divided into many factions. Some believed that no matter what Magnus said, they could not hide the fact that they were abusing psychic powers. Others believed that they might as well listen to what the Red King had to say first.

There is also a small minority who are very extreme and believe that all psykers deserve to die. Even Mortarion didn't think so. What's interesting is that if the person he is talking to thinks this is too extreme, they will start to use the name of the Lord of Death to try to get the other person to change their story.

"Sooner or later you'll break the railing, Conrad."

"It's made of steel." Curze turned back with a smile and shrugged at Rogal Dorn.

His words obviously had some kind of direction, but Dorn didn't say anything more. He just drank another sip of wine - of course not Russ's special wine, but the Macragge wine provided by Robert Guilliman. .

The primarchs in the box basically all chose this one, except for Fulgrim, who and Sanguinius chose the scented tea, and forced Ferus to join in.

To be fair, the appearance of Ferrus Manus holding the ceramic cup with his silver hands is really ridiculous, especially when he stands between Fulgrim and Sanguinius. This kind of image was born The contrast is really hard to resist the urge to laugh.

Dorn did not answer this sentence immediately. He turned his head to confirm Perturabo's position, and then turned back and continued: "You shouldn't make fun of him with me."

"Whose joke?"

"Who did you learn to ask questions knowingly?" Dorn frowned and asked. "This is not a good practice, Conrad."

"But it's hard for me to change it." Kurtz replied with a smile. "It's like Perturabo has a hard time talking to you in a normal way."

Dorn was silent again and began to think. After a moment, he nodded, accepted the statement, and moved on to another matter.

"What do you think Magnus will do?"

"I don't know, brother." The Lord of the Night turned his head, leaned on the railing and sighed, his voice becoming softer. "Only he knows what he will do, but, to be honest, I don't expect to be able to convince him and his regiment to change their attitude in this meeting."

"He is indeed stubborn. Many people have warned him that the subspace is not as beautiful as it seems on the surface, but he has always been stubborn and refused to listen to any suggestions." Dorn said.

His eyebrows were furrowed, and his usual serious expression looked a little more profound at this moment.

"I sometimes even suspect that he has performed surgery on himself and installed a filtering device in his brain to passively filter out all negative information about psychic energy or subspace. Otherwise, there is no way to explain his 'omniscience' Where does the special arrogance come from? Even Malcador never said that he knew everything about subspace. "

"ha."

"why are you laughing?"

"Nothing." Kurtz smiled and shook his head. "So, how long does our proud brother have left?"

"Eleven minutes," Dorn said, and after a one-second pause he corrected the time to the second. "Twenty-five seconds."

"That means we have eleven minutes left to chat, then, Rogge." Kurtz approached him mysteriously. "What do you think he's going to do?"

"I don't know." Dawn answered honestly.

"Don't be like this, give me a guess, any guess will do." Coz pressed the question relentlessly.

This was supposed to be an insignificant joke. If Perturabo or Leon El'Jonson were here, they would probably seriously criticize Curze's frivolity.

If Fulgrim or Leman Russ were here, they might follow Curze's words and continue the joke, or push it in a completely new direction.

But Roger Dorn was different. He thought about it extremely seriously. It took a full five minutes before he spoke again.

"The relationship between Magnus and I has long since deteriorated. Ever since Corax and I refused to allow the Legion to fight alongside the Thousand Sons, there has been a estrangement between him and me."

"He seemed to interpret my decision as a signal that I was on Mortarion's side, but that's not the case. I simply didn't want the Imperial Fists to fight a group of friendly forces who might leave the battlefield at any time. I believe you understand. What am I talking about, Conrad."

The Lord of the Night nodded expressionlessly - of course he understood, he had personal experience of this.

Nightblade lost nearly two hundred men in that side-by-side battle for no reason. He confronted Magnus afterwards, but the latter apologized to him in a rather casual manner and said, 'This is a last resort. for it'.

What's the last resort? Isn't it enough to just give a notice before retreating?

"He has already drifted away from us, and he doesn't seem to be aware of it. I didn't know much about him to begin with, and now I have to overturn a lot of it. So, if you insist on me giving an answer if."

Dawn sighed.

"All I can say is that I don't expect anything from what he brings up," he said seriously. "His attitude towards psionics and the warp is very arrogant, Konrad, and I don't think we're going to see anything good in a few minutes."

Minutes later, his prediction came true.

——

Magnus smiled and walked back into the amphitheater, with the guards walking in front of him, chests puffed out and steps in order. He himself held his head high, as proud as a victorious general.

The discussion even paused for a moment because of his arrival and this gesture. When the opponents saw this scene, they began to have some doubts about their previous ideas - maybe the Crimson King did have some control over something. What about some conclusive evidence?

Their discussion soon resumed, because Magnus was followed by a dozen servitors, carrying a huge instrument with modified mechanical arms.

The shape of this instrument is irregular. The obsidian base seems to have never been polished at all, and each corner seems to be able to extend and split into more faces.

A large piece of pale white gemstone is placed in the center of the base. Under the light of the amphitheater, the surface of both the gemstone and the base reflects brilliant and colorful light. As beautiful as the color of the Crimson King's one eye that changes every day.

On the golden platform, Malcador, holding a scepter, turned his head with an ugly expression and cast an inquiring glance at the emperor.

"If he is not allowed to try, he will not give up." It took a while for the Emperor to answer the Sealbearer's words, the brilliance of psychic power flashing from his eyes.

"Just let him do it, Malcador, at least once. With me here, it won't be too bad."

"You dote too much. My lord, I believe that Khalil Lohars will agree with me." The palmer said gloomily, and exchanged glances with Waldo Constantine on the side.

The expression of the leader of the Forbidden Army was equally gloomy - of course he couldn't tell what the instrument was used for, but he could definitely detect something from Malcador's sudden change of attitude.

In the venue, Magnus had already opened his arms and began to speak enthusiastically and seriously.

"Psychics are an unavoidable topic when we talk about the Empire."

He spoke slowly, his voice loud and clear, still using psychic amplification, echoing in the ears of everyone present. Even though the wooden pulpit had a microphone, Magnus chose not to use it.

"Attitudes towards psykers within the Empire vary, but can generally be summed up as caution, both in their use and their potential, prejudice, stubbornness, and even a stubborn belief that psykers should be The wizard was burned at the stake.”

Having said this, he paused for a moment and deliberately glanced at some of the people who had just spoken.

"Today, we have advanced so far that we can travel across the stars just to deliver food or drinks. We have such power, but still have such prejudice? This is not progress, and it is definitely not wise. But I can Understand what most people think.”

Magnus looked away and smiled again, looking kind and sincere.

"Psychic power has always been a talent that only a few people can possess. To outsiders, it seems mysterious, full of danger, and maybe even very attractive. But in my opinion, it is actually just another cognitive world. It’s just a means.”

"It is essentially the same as mathematics. It is a tool in the hands of us humans. But this kind of cognition must be based on the premise of understanding it, but many people do not have psychic talents at all, so how do they understand it? Speaking of? That’s why I created this instrument!”

"It! It can allow a person without any psychic talent to open a new door from scratch and get a new pair of eyes to observe a brand new world!"

He raised his arm again and gave orders to the servitors. Thick cables and supporting instruments were quickly transported from the other end of the theater. Under the watchful eyes of everyone, Magnus began to debug the instrument himself, his posture still relaxed, as if he had a chance to win.

In the box of the original body, Mortarion turned his head with an ugly face and expressed his emotions to his brothers. His voice was high and almost roaring: "He must be crazy!"

"But I think he is still very sensible, brother. Look at the energy of his long speech, I bet he is very excited now." Leman Russ chuckled and put down the wine glass in his hand, or to be precise, threw it away On the ground.

The fine wine in the cup spilled all over the floor, creating a darker red mark on the red carpet. The leader of the wolf pack didn't even look at it, and his right hand was slowly closing.

"This kind of sanity may be worse than madness," Vulcan said worriedly. "What does he want to do?"

"No matter what he wants to do, my father has no intention of stopping him." Horus spoke slowly and seriously.

As soon as he spoke, everyone's eyes focused on him. The Wolf Shepherd, who had recently succeeded him as Warmaster, was still wearing his fur, but at this moment, his face no longer had the gentle smile that was most common in the past.

"But this is by no means a good thing. We all know the dangers of psychic energy. Even those psychics who have trained for many years may have problems in a certain spell. Why does he think he can successfully create it? A psychic?"

"I agree." Alpharius, standing beside him, spoke immediately.

"I agree, but what are we going to do?" Guilliman asked with a hint of inquiry.

"Just wait and see what happens. Since he dared to push out this instrument and use it as a tool to reverse the situation of the meeting, it means that he must have gone through many experiments." Angron frowned and said.

The gladiator folded his arms solemnly, his muscles were taut, and his posture was calm, but somehow he was filled with a sense of danger. His hoarse voice also attracted the attention of many original bodies.

"That's not necessarily true." Ferrus Manus put forward another conjecture with a cold voice. Phoenix looked at him, wondering what Gorgon would say, but he didn't expect that he would end his speech right there. .

"Okay. Since that's the case, let's make a vote in advance." Fulgrim shook his head helplessly. “So, how many of us agree that the think tank system needs to be preserved?”

After the words fell, he took the lead in raising his right hand. Raising their right hands with him were Jaghatai, Sanguinius, Vulkan, Robert Guilliman and Alpharius.

"I would like to declare -" Guilliman immediately explained after raising his hand. "——I don't agree with Magnus's attitude towards psychic powers, but the think tank system still needs to be reserved. At least think tanks can allow us to seize many opportunities in the war."

"Indeed." The Fire Dragon Lord nodded, with worry still on his face. "I believe in the self-discipline of the think tanks, but I am worried about Magnus."

"Then the rest of the people are all opponents?" Fulgrim asked.

Horus shook his head, indicating that he was not taking sides and it all depended on how the Emperor handled the matter.

Leon Al'Jonson followed suit, earning a meaningful stare.

Leman Russ, Mortarion and Angron all expressed their opposition, as did Dorn. Perturabo followed him with a gloomy expression and raised his hands, also expressing his opposition, but his attitude seemed a bit... strangeness.

After almost everyone expressed their opinions, their eyes focused on the only two people left.

Konrad Coze, and Corvus Corax.

The Lord of Night and the Lord of Crows stood on one side of the observation deck together. Curze leaned on the railing leisurely and happily, swaying on his toes.

Corax was different. He stood upright, and his eyes under his black hair showed no emotion at all. They were completely calm, as if the eyes of the originals did not exist at all.

"So." Phoenix Shi Shiran stood up from the sofa chair, walked barefoot on the carpet and walked between them. He raised his hands, hugged them, and asked naturally and curiously: "Where are you two? What do you think?"

"I approve of the condemnation of Magnus," Corax said. “But the think tank system does need to be preserved.”

"What about you, Conrad?"

"Me? I'd better swing it for now and see what he does. I'll decide then." The Lord of the Night chuckled and shook his head. He escaped from the Phoenix's arms like a ghost and turned to look inside the theater. .

The moment he turned around, the smile on his face completely disappeared, leaving only a cold calm. It is as invisible as a huge glacier under the deep blue sea, but it is real.

This chapter is 4k.

The eldest brother is paralyzed and angry, the second brother is angry and paralyzed, fierce and cunning, cunning and fierce.

Question: Who are these two people?