40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 358 78. From the deepest depths of darkness

Faster. Mortarion told himself, hurry up - and then he clenched his hands, and the scythe became an extension of his arm at this moment. A thousandth of a second later, Mortarion could faintly feel the real feeling of cutting through flesh and blood. .

Just a little bit, but it was enough for him. Immediately afterwards, he smelled a smell that could only belong to rotting corpses, and then there was some kind of scream, some kind of scream that should not have been born but was born anyway. does not belong to nature but comes from

Nightmare.

Yes, from a nightmare.

Mortarion withdrew his scythe, and the two sliced ​​corpses fell limply to the ground. The rotten and rusty power armor embedded itself into the flesh due to the weight and gravity, and half of the diseased lung fell out. , and the owner of the lungs is not completely dead yet.

In fact, he was staring at Mortarion, muttering something unintelligible.

"You will be born again, Father, you will be born again."

Mortarion listened patiently, then raised his foot and crushed his skull.

The last traitor on the Endurance died.

This was a good thing, but he found that his hands were actually shaking. Staring at his hands, he slowly closed his fingers and held the scythe. The force was strong enough to calm the tremors.

Stop shaking. Mortarion thought. I just did what I had to do and what I had to do.

But his warning failed, and he could not stop the trembling. Mortarion then thought of a reason that could explain this - he had realized where the outcome of this war would go.

No matter what, they're not going to win.

Horus Luperkar is a bloodthirsty wolf. Unlike Leman Russ, his savage fangs are hidden and will only be revealed when he really needs to drink blood. And once he bites something, he never lets go.

Now would be a great opportunity to give him something to bite.

Think about it, most of the ships of the United Fleet are trapped in that huge supernatural vine. Unless Horus is suddenly hit on the head by something and becomes an idiot, he will definitely let the fleet start. Aim and fire.

Like roll call. Mortarion thought casually with extreme indifference. That bastard will kill all our people one by one like a roll call.

He lifted the scythe, turned around and asked his seventh company commander Nathaniel Gallo: "How is the emergency repair in the sixth hangar going?"

"They replied two minutes ago, and it has reached the final stage." Jialuo said meticulously. "But I think they probably need a few more minutes, it's not an easy job."

"Indeed," Mortarion said.

He raised his hand and held the sickle in front of him and looked at it carefully. Something ran through his heart like running water, and he inevitably thought of the face of Horus Luperkar that appeared in the holographic image.

That face was completely different from the Horus Luperkar in his impression, but it was extremely similar. In terms of appearance alone, there is no difference, even the details are exactly the same as before.

Horus was still as handsome as a carefully carved statue. He didn't look like he had grown naturally, but rather seemed to have been shaped into his appearance by some kind of material. Handsome, gentle and convincing.

But the real difference was not in the face, but in his eyes, and there was something in those eyes that made Mortarion shudder.

Even now, just thinking about it, the Lord of Death feels like he is being tortured by a gust of cold wind.

He narrowed his eyes and asked Gallo another question: "How do you think Typhons instigated so many people to rebel?"

It was obvious that Nathaniel Gallo was becoming a little disturbed by his question.

"I don't know, the original body." The seventh company commander, the 'combat company commander' answered his question.

He is of Terran descent, not Barbarus. Many Death Guards of Barbarus descent will call him "Ichisugaro" with a bit of sarcasm. This is of course not a good nickname, but it also reflects him to some extent. one-sided character.

Anyone else might have considered the question before speaking, but Garro would have answered immediately and told Mortarion outright that he didn't know.

Mortarion smiled.

"I don't know either, Garro." He told his company commander, with a hint of frustration in his tone that was not so easy to detect. "I always thought I was a good Primarch, but now I find that that doesn't seem to be the case."

"Primarch?" Garro called him dryly.

Mortarion cast his gaze and saw a look of confusion on Garro's face. He wore blood-stained armor, and beneath his feet lay the broken corpses of his former brothers.

Then he told Mortarion sadly but firmly: "The answer doesn't matter."

The Lord of Death was silent for a long time before agreeing with him.

"Yes." Mortarion nodded. "The answer doesn't matter."

He began to call the person in charge of the emergency repair work in the sixth hangar. The leading technical sergeant was named Amutli. He was a very stubborn and reliable man.

He shouted at the top of his lungs and told their original body unceremoniously on the channel: "It's done!"

"Really?" Mortarion asked.

"Really! The transport planes and shuttles are all ready and ready to attack at any time!"

"How many?"

"Forty-six!" Once again, Amutli answered the original's question in a loud voice. "It's enough to hold all of us. We're almost dead anyway!"

"He doesn't understand what he is talking about, the original body. Amutli is a little mentally disturbed today." Nathaniel Gallo quickly added before Mortarion could speak.

The Lord of Death glanced at him calmly, shook his head, and did not react violently to the technical sergeant's words.

"We'll meet you guys in the hangar right away, sergeant." He said calmly. "But I want you to check all the planes again before we come."

"Okay," the sergeant said shortly, and immediately asked a question. His tone reminded Jialuo a little bit, and the seventh company commander could even imagine his ugly face with those gray eyes staring at him.

"Where are we going, Primarch?"

"Can you see the porthole?" Mortarion asked him.

"certainly."

"You can see those vines too, right?"

"Yes."

"We have many ships trapped by them, and the Endurance is no longer a suitable ship for combat." Mortarion said, looking down at the ground.

On the dark black metal deck, there is a carpet of bacteria swaying gently. This is just an appearance. In fact, Endurance is collapsing and transforming. From the appearance they were familiar with to another appearance, no one said it clearly, but everyone could vaguely notice it.

"So we need to find a ship that moves quickly and has strong firepower, and uses it to help the trapped ships and get them out. But before that, we have to find a way to identify those ships that are still loyal to the empire. ships, as well as those that have been completely controlled by the traitors."

"Understood, Primarch," Amutli said, his voice returning to his low, normal tone. "We'll wait in the hangar."

Mortarion hung up the communication, turned to Gallo and said, "We are all a little mentally disturbed today."

Nathaniel Gallo was stunned for a while before he remembered that this was the original body's reply to what he just said. He wanted to say something else, but Mortarion turned away.

Two Death Guards passed by him and bumped into him. One of them reminded him in a half-joking tone: "It's time to go, stay tuned. Be careful not to fall behind."

"Shut up." Jia Luo said impatiently and followed quickly.

He had begun to agree with Mortarion's words in his heart.

——

"Horus again?" Vulkan asked.

"Horus again," said Athelus Numean.

The Salamanders' First Captain didn't seem to like the news very much, as he kept a straight face as he spoke. Vulkan pondered, reaching out and holding the war hammer he put aside, the Thunderhead.

This subtle movement caused a heavy murderous look on the face of the company commander, and then he asked: "Reject?"

"No, not yet." Hearing this, the Fire Dragon Lord shook his head, his eyes full of concentration, as obvious as an overflowing spring. "I have to find out what he's thinking, Artiles."

"It's dangerous to talk to him." The first company commander said tactfully.

"I know." Vulcan said. "but."

He lifted the Thunder Head, turned it around, and put it aside, frowning.

"It seems that you have made up your mind." The company commander sighed.

"I rarely really make up my mind about something." Vulcan replied seriously.

Then Athelus Numeon said nothing more. He nodded to his primarch and walked out of the command room once more.

Vulkan stood there, stroking his weapon, and waited for Horus. This incident reminded him of Ullanor for no reason. It was strange, but also natural, as if it was an instinctive reaction.

It was raining that day, and there were deep pits on the ground. The promethium flames burned the orc corpses and remained in the rain for a long time. Military formations spread across the land, and people looked up to the Emperor and the Primarch, ready to hear the words of the Lord of Mankind. The future of mankind is clearly visible, and it is a broad road.

It was a beautiful day, in every way.

So, since when did things become like this?

"Brother," Horus's voice rustled out from the cogitator before him. "Did you see that?"

No need to ask, Vulkan knew what he was referring to.

"Don't call me that, I saw it." Vulcan said. "So? Why are you calling again?"

"I just want to tell you that you can't win." Horus said with a slightly amused smile. "The final winner of this war must be me, do you understand?"

"It's still unclear who will win," Vulcan replied. He frowned, but tried hard to maintain restraint.

He actually had no hope of winning. Any rational general could easily judge the direction of this war. He was offended by the attitude displayed by Horus.

He didn't understand - why could you face the death of your brothers' heirs so easily, so naturally?

You're murdering them and you seem happy?

Yes, in a daze, Vulkan inevitably thought of this thing as Horus again. He always had to remind himself to realize this, which was painful and necessary.

"You can't win." Horus suddenly changed his tone, stopped chuckling and became very serious.

"This war is just a microcosm of the future. I have many ways to break down the resistance I may encounter, but you have no solution. If one of the two sides in the war has weapons that the other side cannot cope with, then who will fight in this war? Win, Vulcan?”

"Father will put an end to your ambitions."

"You are wrong, it is I who will put an end to him," said Horus. "I will completely tear apart his lies and show everyone the face behind his mask."

"But I won't kill him, because he is my father after all. Even if he is a liar, I will make sure he lives. You too, I will not let any of you die, the empire and humanity need us."

"The war you started will not let things develop the way you said." Vulkan clenched his warhammer and said in a deep voice. "You understand? And I don't like the tone of your voice. You're acting like you're really Horus, but you're not, you're just a monster."

"A real monster is better than a hypocritical liar. Maybe I will make the galaxy bleed, but that is better than letting humans be deceived in his lies." Horus suddenly said in a tone full of hatred. "You are the one who doesn't understand, Vulkan"

"you--"

"——There is no need for us to continue discussing this issue." Horus interrupted him. "You can't convince me, and I can't convince you, we are one of the few stubborn people in the galaxy, all of us, so let me tell you what I would do."

Vulkan silently began to prepare to listen.

For some reason, a scene appeared in front of him. Whether it was a figment of his own imagination, or some kind of blood connection between brothers. In short, he really saw certain things, and these things made Vulkan shiver all over.

He saw the thing wearing the skin of Horus standing in the darkness and whispering to a tall corpse. The darkness was not the darkness that humans are familiar with. It did not come from night, but from terror.

"The playtime is over," said Horus. "First, I will give the order to fire."

Dozens of warnings popped up on Vulkan's meditator array in an instant. They were extremely bright red and quickly occupied his field of vision. Deadly cannon fire passed his fleet and shot straight to their rear.

"You bastard!" Even though he was well prepared, the Fire Dragon Lord still yelled angrily.

Horus ignored him and continued to speak, calm to the point of being otherworldly, completely transcending flesh and blood and mundane things. There was power in his voice, a power that people could not disobey, deny or doubt.

Where does that power come from? Vulkan gripped his hammer tightly.

"I will reduce your physical strength, and I will send destroyers to harass your ships that are too busy to take care of themselves. I will let the cruisers follow closely, biting your flesh and blood like hounds. Then I will let the main ship open fire and shoot you. , turn you all into space junk.”

"My tactical intention is very simple and direct, and you can't resist, especially you, Vulkan. Your fleet can't do anything but watch me create a massacre. Because you have always been like this, you can't do anything. I can’t do it, I seem to be strong, but I like silence.”

Horus stopped his voice coldly and took a gentle breath at the other end of the channel.

".Try to struggle, brother, while you still can."

He hung up the communication.

Also, code.