40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 356 76. The End of Destruction (End)

As the saying goes, manpower will eventually be exhausted. Throughout the ages, countless people have personally proven this. They used their lives and extinguished ambitions to prove that human power is indeed incomparable to natural disasters.

Perturabo had different opinions on this, and he even had the most direct evidence to refute this matter.

Emperor.

He can enable human beings to overcome natural disasters, overcome the greed and viciousness in their nature, unite as one, break out of Terra, fly into the universe, and regain their former glory.

He proves that human will can conquer anything, as long as you are determined enough.

Or crazy enough.

And the Lord of Steel, he has both.

The pain that tortured him could not make him succumb, and the painful feeling of killing his offspring with his own hands did not change his expression at all. Even if he was buried and devoured by the fungus released by the enemy, he could not stop resisting.

Perturabo breathed in the virus-laden air and slowly began to stand, his war hammer providing him with a huge help. Sensing his resistance, the germ blanket closed in dissatisfaction and pulled him, trying to make him kneel down again.

Their surface seemed to be sticky and corrosive, and they had already chemically reacted with the coating of his power armor in just a short moment of contact, causing the armor's surface to hiss and emit green smoke. Could it be worse? Perturabo was in no mood to care for the time being.

He ignored all these matters.

So the creep changed its strategy, and a heavy weight spread from the top of his head, forcing him to bend down suddenly and almost fall. They are squirming, and although they cannot speak, they are using their actions to express the most genuine malice.

Perturabo held his breath, grabbed the war hammer with both hands, stood firm, straightened his knees, and struggled with the creep.

This was not easy. Only a tiny bit of air could pass through the swollen throat and enter the painful lungs with his full breath. Fortunately, the high temperature throughout his body continued, which meant that his immune system was still functioning.

It only takes a while before he can break out of this state, probably.

Perturabo began to think.

First, he thought of the shape of that thing - a large colony of flies, which was definitely not the shape of flies that should be born in nature. Just looking at it made people feel instinctively disgusted. And no matter how much he destroys, the flies themselves increase.

This may be because there are too many insect eggs in the corrupt scenes on the bridge. The humid environment and supernatural forces accelerated their birth, which led to this situation. However, it is possible that this is just an appearance.

The number of fly colonies cannot be reduced because he did not cause effective damage to that thing.

Perturabo narrowed his eyes - physical means could not cause damage to such a thing, he should have noticed it earlier.

But I'm afraid it would be useless to detect it in advance. The think tank system within the Iron Warriors has long been banned.

Then he began to recall what the thing had said. Admittedly, this matter was not very pleasant, but he needed to think rationally and calmly.

The thing mentioned two names, Loving Father, and Rotigos. These are obviously two different things. It spoke of the former in a respectful tone, but in a very different tone when referring to the latter.

The name Loving Father is very interesting. Why is it called this? Could it be possible that such a monster also has a father?

Perturabo thought for a while, and his back began to straighten up. He remembered again that the thing said it was leaving - why?

He didn't even have enough strength to stand at that time, so why did he leave at this point and give up the victory? Perturabo frowned and began to dissect every word it had said, quickly finding the answer.

hatred.

It mentions the word several times.

It said he was filled with hatred and mentioned a 'breaking point'. Is it possible that too much hatred will lead to some kind of irreversible situation? It also says that its existence is a kind of destruction of the present. How should this sentence be interpreted?

never mind.

Perturabo slowly closed his eyes and cleared his mind.

There was no need to think about it anymore. That thing was undoubtedly his enemy, the enemy of the empire and humanity. If it thinks that hatred will bring bad results, it will not hesitate to leave or avoid it.

As if instinctively, Perturabo thought of Eltrus.

He doesn't hate him.

He thought of those who had died as a result of the Eleven Slash.

He didn't hate them, not at all.

He thought of Damex, who had become increasingly estranged from him before his death, Calliphon, who once thought he was a monster, and Olympia, who raised the flag of rebellion and civil strife.

Did he hate these people and this place?

No, the answer is a resounding no. It was as clean and direct as the answers calculated through mathematics. He didn't hate these, he hated someone else.

He hates himself.

That's the way it is.

He hated himself for not realizing the meaning of war earlier. He must carry out eleven killings and lead the legion to the most dangerous battlefields again and again, but he did not want them to gain honor.

He hated himself for saying that he would expel Eltros from the Legion the last time he saw him. He hated himself and Damex for drifting apart, hated himself for making Calliphon feel afraid, and hated himself for preventing Olympia from remaining peaceful and a symbol of the empire.

So, essentially, he hates himself.

Perturabo opened his eyes. He was no longer where he was. The creep and putrid air disappeared, and the main bridge of the Ironblood disappeared, replaced by a wasteland.

It was incredibly desolate, covered in a thick layer of white ash. Perturabo knelt down and picked up a handful. He soon realized that these things were ashes.

He raised his head and glanced at the sky again, and frowned at the burning dark red color. At this moment, an icy wind blew by, bringing with it a burning smell.

He had smelled this smell before.

The Lord of Steel clenched his war hammer and looked around, and he saw a figure on the rolling hills not far away.

He walked forward without hesitation. The man didn't seem surprised by his arrival, but he didn't choose to look back. The cloak of a living creature floated, and the faint wails of the dead loomed in his shadow.

Gritting his teeth, Perturabo managed to maintain his composure and called out his name.

"Khalil."

Then came a question, a question that was asked knowingly.

"How will you be here?"

"Actually, if nothing else happened, I should have stayed here," Khalil said. "But you should rather ask another question."

He finally turned around, the skeleton mask firmly on his face, his eyes deep.

"What?" asked Perturabo.

"Why are you here?" Khalil said. "Just think about this and everything will fall into place."

Perturabo was silent for a moment and did not answer - of course he knew the answer to this question, but wouldn't the answer be a little ridiculous?

Can you get rid of that evil spell and come here just because of hatred?

When he didn't answer, Khalil seemed to smile. Perturabo had no evidence and could only surmise from the slight laugh.

This laughter also woke up Perturabo, who immediately put the previous matter behind him and began to quickly move on to another matter.

"Where are you now? Nostramo? Set sail back to Terra to warn the Emperor that Horus has betrayed. And Typhon of the Death Guard. No, Typhons. According to my speculation, there may be Some of Mars' power also rebelled with Horus. This is the worst possible theory, but you must tell the Emperor all of this."

"He knows," Khalil said softly.

He, Konrad Curze, and the Night Blades were pretty much the only ones in the galaxy who spoke like this. Whispers softly, like whispers in the evening breeze. As always, the sound sent a chill through Perturabo.

"What?" he asked. "What's the meaning?"

"He knows the news about the Horus Rebellion. In fact, he also knows more things. For example, Lorgar and Alpharius followed him and rebelled together, and the Word Bearers are now ravaging the five hundred worlds of Ultramar. , extinguishing every star, sacrificing them to the evil gods of the warp to raise the storm."

"There is no god in this world!" Perturabo snapped.

"It's true. There really shouldn't be gods in the world we live in, but here -"

Khalil bent down, reached out and grabbed a handful of ashes, letting them fly away in the wind. Large tracts of dead souls loomed quietly in the wind.

"--no the same."

The tall skeleton slowly straightened up.

"This is the Warp, Perturabo," Khalil warned him solemnly. "There's anything here, gods, demons, angels, monsters. You can throw in here anything from a fairy tale you've ever read."

Perturabo was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly took a deep breath: "Did Luojia and Alpharius rebel?"

"Yes."

"What are the Word Bearers doing in the Five Hundred Worlds? Making sacrifices?"

"Yes."

"Where is Robert Guilliman?" asked Perturabo. "He just received the order not long ago. Horus asked him to go with Luojia to deal with the so-called Orc Empire. I guess that empire doesn't exist at all, right?"

"Indeed." Khalil smiled genuinely, this time, his laughter was very obvious. "It was just a cover-up, a trap. His real purpose was to allow the Word Bearers' fleet to gather in Calth legitimately."

"Actually, some time has passed since the Battle of Calth. The sun was sacrificed, and excessive radiation destroyed the ecological environment on the surface of Calth, forcing those who survived there to move into the cave system beneath Calth. Robert Guilliman is now pursuing Lorgar with a fleet."

Once more, Perturabo tightened his grip on his hammer. He is now very grateful that he forged it. It is no longer just a weapon, it is also a force that supports him to continue moving forward, as powerful as the hatred surging deep in his heart.

"Now, let's talk about you, Perturabo," said Khalil. "You are here, which proves that you have broken through some kind of boundary. Things should not be like this. It is a pity that the place you are in is not stable, and the curtain of reality there has been shaken."

"So?" Perturabo ignored his explanation and focused on the only thing he cared about now. "How can I leave?"

This time, it was Khalil's turn to be silent.

Taking this opportunity, the Lord of Steel took a good look at him for a while. He found that Khalil Lohars looked different from the last time he saw him.

The cloak became darker and darker, completely separated from the material that the cloth should have. It even looks more like a pure shadow, swallowing up any dim light that passes in its path. And that armor.

Perturabo once commented that it was not practical. He later learned who forged the armor, but this assessment was still not retracted.

Because it is true that if the wearer of this armor was not Khalil Lohars, it would never be practical.

Nowadays, it is no longer as clear-cut as it used to be. The colors are mixed together, surging like a whirlpool.

But the biggest change is the broken crown floating above Khalil's head. This thing never existed before. It was dim red in the darkness, just like the sky and the burning fire not far away.

"There is only one way to get out of here." Khalil finally spoke slowly, his voice dull under the mask. "You must make an oath to leave here. These are the rules, and even I can't change them."

"Oath? But last time." Perturabo took the initiative to stop himself.

He had realized that he wasn't here the last time.

"Okay, swear." The Lord of Steel clenched his fists. He no longer had a fever and his physical strength was much better. "What type of vow?"

"You will know, but before that, I need you to promise me something personally."

Perturabo frowned.

"Don't mention this to anyone." Khalil said slowly, raising his right hand and grabbing the mask on his face with his fingers.

The slender five fingers began to exert force, and muffled sounds like broken bones began to be heard continuously. One after another, angry flames burst out from the eye sockets and the gap between the mask and the skin, rising high, and the substantial and huge pressure even Making Perturabo take a step back.

The mask resisted moving away from him, but Khalil's will was strong. The whole wrestling process lasted for a long time, and the mask was just taken off.

And the face underneath it.

Perturabo was speechless and forgot to speak for a moment.

"Now you can swear," said Khalil Lohars. "Make an oath to me and there won't be much of a problem."

"your face--"

"——That's not important." Khalil interrupted. "Whether it is broken or not is my own choice. Even if I had to do it over again, I would still choose this way."

"Swear, Perturabo, and return to where you belong. Remember, do not be an enemy of Horus for the time being. You cannot defeat him."

"But what should I say?" Perturabo asked slightly confused.

This was the first time he showed such emotion. Facing such a face, he couldn't help but feel confused. All of this was too heavy and confusing, almost like a scene in a nightmare, and Perturabo couldn't see any logic in it.

In fact, it's a miracle that he still retains his sanity.

"About hatred, about revenge." Khalil replied heavily, and Perturabo noticed that his breathing was quick. "You can even just say one sentence"

"What words?"

Looking into his eyes, Khalil said word by word: "I will take revenge."

——

After calling Perturabo with Vulkan for the fifteenth time, Mortarion heard a rustling sound coming from the communication channel. His pupils shrank and he immediately held his breath, trying to figure out what the sound was. True or false.

After a few seconds, the voice belonging to the Lord of Steel finally sounded in the communication channel.

"I'm fine," he said hoarsely. "I will immediately assess the damage and current situation, and orders will come shortly to prepare."

update completed.