40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 486 4. The person destined to die by the blade

Tujia has loved the night since many years ago. It's not that he likes the dark, he just likes the sensations the night brings.

Yeah, it feels like.

For example, stay in a cheap hotel room and read the local newspaper, carefully scanning every word that smells of ink, preferably with a handful of cheap organic candies at hand.

As the strange taste of the candy slowly explodes on the tongue, the words in the newspaper usually combine into some not-so-nice words.

Fighting, vendettas, appalling corruption. Who was hanged for stealing in the East End, who was executed for treason, which factory closed down, and the workers had nowhere to go. This was the normal state of the empire, and it was considered a good normal state.

No matter where Tujia goes, as long as the world still has a certain order, this kind of thing will happen all the time.

However, the words in the newspaper occasionally become other words. For example, some news, some news coming back from the dark front of the stars.

The newspapers would say that the Empire had won another victory, that another world lost in the Dark Ages had returned to the light of the Star Torch. Tujia knew that, usually, such things were true, just a little late.

Or a lot of points.

There is no way, this kind of news is sent out by Terra's government affairs department, and goes through many checks before reaching the local government, and then they will go through more checks. When this news finally hit the newspapers, the planet may have been returned to the Empire for more than ten years, or even decades.

Moreover, newspapers withhold details. Important details.

How many people died for this? What sacrifices did the Imperial loyalists make to bring this world back?

Where is it? Is it the Sun Star Field, the Hazy Star Field, or the more distant dark stars? Or the five hundred worlds of Ultramar that have been lost for thousands of years without any news?

Of course, there is the most critical point.

How did the light of the Star Torch shine into the world again?

Many times, Tujia wanted to cross a certain boundary and use the little authority and resources he had to figure out this matter, but he did not do so in the end, even though this matter was very important to him.

He couldn't break the law, and the only code he had.

Moreover, the night can provide him with many kinds of feelings, and not every night can be spent safely in a cheap hotel to investigate the local customs. There were also nights when he would inevitably get bloody.

Exactly at this moment.

Tujia lowered his head and glanced at the body closest to him.

Although it was covered in blood, there was only one wound, located in the throat, and the wound area was not large. The skin at the wound was not turned over, but it was very deep. This means the killer slit his throat rather than hacking it open.

When this corpse was alive, he was a strong hive man. He owned a large-caliber automatic gun, and the index finger of his right hand was even on the trigger.

Tujia looked at the other body.

Compared to the first one, it was much more miserable. Its left hand was neatly divided into two parts starting from the elbow, and the fracture was as flat as if someone had used a single-molecule miner to process it. There was a straight cut on its abdomen, and its internal organs slipped from it, steaming in the night.

It still only took two cuts for the killer to turn him into it.

Tujia withdrew his gaze and took a rough look around. Corpses all over the ground surrounded the church. They probably had this idea during their lifetime, but failed to achieve it. Instead, they achieved this goal after death.

Sadly, they didn't even get to splatter their blood on the church door.

"I do not understand."

"What don't you understand?"

"You—" Hive Man Gore took a deep breath. "—Who are you, priest?"

"I am a friend of your father." The priest with blood on his hands replied.

He stood up straight and was tapping his waist with a bloody hand. His expression looked very calm, and Tujia glanced at him and judged with just one glance that this priest definitely did similar things often.

That kind of calmness is called taking it for granted and not taking it for granted.

"My father was just an alcoholic bastard who worked in the Moran family's factory until his death. How could he possibly know someone like you?" Gore asked unacceptably.

It's a miracle that she still retains her sanity now, Tujia thought. Even if she was a small leader, she might not have seen such a level of massacre. No, probably never seen it at all. Although there are many murderers in the hive city, murderers like this

He glanced at the priest again.

"What kind of person am I?" asked the priest. Behind him was a well-maintained chapel, but his hands were stained with blood. The blood came from the broken corpses that surrounded the entire church. They stared at the three remaining survivors with ferocious faces.

"How do I know?" Gore asked.

She was trembling, covering her bald forehead, stroking her fingers back and forth on her braids comically. The expression looked like that of a mentally retarded child who had been deformed by chemicals, or a poor worker who had injured his brain in an accident.

It's not her fault. Tujia thought.

Then, he realized that he might be thinking too much tonight. But he said nothing and remained silent. He continued to listen to the conversation between the bloody-handed mass murderer and Gore.

The other party obviously knew what he was doing, but he didn't care.

"You don't have to know," the pastor told Gore. "Mr. Graham made a bad decision and he must pay the price."

Gore turned his head and glanced at the horrific pile of corpses. She asked dryly: "Has his price been paid?"

"Not yet." The pastor replied calmly and patiently. "There are some blood debts that even death is not enough to repay."

"Emperor" Gore sighed deeply.

"He's not here, at least not yet." The priest smiled. "It's time for you to go home, Gore, and come to church next Thursday."

He raised his right hand and pointed in a direction. Gore nodded absentmindedly, turned around subconsciously, and was about to walk in that direction, but Tujia stopped her at this moment.

"My gun."

The hive man turned back blankly, glanced at him, and threw his gun back without hesitation or refusal. Tujia took it with one hand and put it into the right pocket of his coat.

Gore just slowly stepped on the corpses and left. Her boots stepped on the flesh of the dead people. The sound sounded like she was beating the completely frozen meat with a wooden stick.

Watching her move away little by little, Tujia never took his right hand out of his coat. He didn't even move. He still stood there, about ten meters away from the pastor.

The priest's eyes sparkled in the darkness, and the glimmer of light was almost like the wind blowing by on a cold moonlit night. Tujia looked at him and swallowed a mouthful of blood-smelling saliva.

Finally, he slowly took his hand out.

The priest nodded kindly and approvingly, and then turned around.

"Come with me," he said, and walked toward the open side door of the church.

Through the gap, Tujia saw the light of the candle. But about ten minutes ago, before he and Gore ran out of the church in fear, the candles had all been extinguished.

He stood there and did not follow, but asked a question: "Where are these dead people?"

"Someone will take care of them," the priest said, opening the side door.

The light of the candle swayed and spread from inside, casting a dim light. His shadow was stretched very long, forming a sneaky and elongated shadow on the white floor tiles in front of the church door.

Tujia looked down at the shadow, then up at the priest himself. He put his hand into his pants pocket and held a crumpled piece of paper between his index and middle fingers. He curled his fingers and held the piece of paper in his palm, then took out his hand and walked towards the church with his fist clenched.

The priest stepped aside to make way for him. After he entered, he gently closed the side door. It seemed that no matter what he did, he did it quietly, and even his breathing was so soft that it was almost undetectable.

Only then did Tujia realize that his back was completely wet with cold sweat.

The priest walked past him, his steps so light that he made no sound. He walked to the front of the pulpit and then slowly sat down along the small steps. He leaned against the pulpit, his hands still blood red.

Tujia stared at the bloody hands and remained completely silent. He still doesn't understand where the two straight knives, which are not too short, have gone.

The priest looked up and gave him a smile.

"You probably have a lot of questions to ask, Mr. Investigator? And tonight is still very long, and my week is completely over. Therefore, I now have a lot of time to answer these questions for you. What do you think? "

".I suggest we start by exchanging names." Tujia said stiffly.

"You are right, sir," replied the minister, smiling. "My name is Horst, but people prefer to call me priest. What about you?"

"Tujia."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Tugea. I hope you didn't have too bad an impression of District 2 in Litatra. It's a small place, but it's a nice little place."

"It's quiet, and nothing like today has ever happened in my memory. In fact, Mr. Graham, who is still paying the price, has almost never been to the Second District in the past."

"There is nothing for people like him to exploit here, and his boss, or master, doesn't look down on the little money we have here."

The man who called himself Horst put his hands together and made a crisp sound.

"So they're here for you." He looked at Tujia unblinkingly. "Do you know why?"

If only I knew.

Tujia licked his lips before answering his question in a hoarse voice.

"No, I don't know the reason, and I don't understand why a noble would publicly target an investigator. No matter who gave the order, this is considered treason."

"I know," Horst said.

Tujia's cheek twitched.

"I know the reason." Horst repeated, holding his knees and slowly standing up.

Seeing him like this, Tujia couldn't imagine what method he used to kill all those people. Even if that number of surrounding people were equivalent to the unconscious living dead, with just two double swords, they would still have to kill at least two Terras.

Horst stretched his back and walked towards a pamphlet that was thrown on the ground. He bent down to pick it up and walked towards Tujia.

Just like last time, he thrust the booklet into Tujia's hand. Strangely, the blood on his hands that had not yet completely solidified failed to leave any traces on the book.

"Turn over to the second page." The pastor took two steps back and said.

Tujia did as he was told. He turned to the second page and saw a line of small words as bright red as blood.

All those who believe in Him and those whom He favors will surely perish by his sword.

Tujia raised his head and asked, "What does this mean?"

"The meaning of this sentence is that people like me are destined to die by another sharp blade." Horst replied with a smile. "This is the first question I have to answer for you tonight, Mr. Tujia."

"But I didn't ask the question."

"You've got the question written all over your face, I can see it. You wanted to know how I killed those people, and now you know. At least, you got part of the answer."

Tujia took a deep breath, once again using this behavior to relieve his oxygen addiction, but Horst spoke before him.

"Then, the second question." The pastor suppressed his smile. "You want to know the truth about this church, and who I am, right?"

Tujia did not speak, but remained silent. He clenched his right fist tightly, then let go. The ball of paper fell to the ground and was quickly blown away by the breeze. I don't know where it drifted to. Then he reached into his coat pocket and grasped his gun.

The bullet had been replaced, and he felt Gore had done it. He would thank her for it, but he wasn't sure the bullets would be useful against the thing in front of him. Therefore, that thank you will probably be taken to the grave.

"Mr. Tujia?" Horst looked at him inquiringly, his eyes unblinking. "what are you up to?"

Tujia suddenly realized that he had not blinked, not even once.

He tensed his muscles and said slowly, "What I do depends on your next answer, Pastor."

"how is it like--"

"——I am the one who asked the question!" Tujia shouted sharply. He drew his gun.

Horst smiled, his smile full of appreciation. He raised his hands and took another step back to express his agreement.

"Okay, just ask," he said.

"Are you loyal?"

"Yes." Horst replied immediately. "I am completely loyal to the Emperor, the Imperium, and Humanity."

"who are you?"

"The low-ranking priest of the Imperial State Church, Horst Endro." The priest replied politely.

"Why should a priest kill them all?"

"I have already answered this question, Mr. Tujia. I am His believer, and therefore I shall perish by the sword."

"Who is He?" Tujia asked.

This time, the pastor didn't answer immediately.

His face gradually calmed down, and his smile and anger were taken away by the cold wind. The muscles that made up his expression lost their activity little by little, turning his unremarkable face into a stiff, lifeless mask.

The flickering candlelight illuminated his eyes very deeply. A candlestick burned behind him, but his shadow only existed at his feet, as small as the tip of a needle.

Tujia's heartbeat was getting faster and faster, no, maybe it couldn't be said that way. Not getting faster, but gradually approaching the limit.

He felt dizzy, his heartbeat filled his ears, and a huge pressure from nowhere rushed through his mind, oppressing his vision and forcing his vision to become blurry.

There was pain in his abdomen and right shoulder again, and the wounds probably collapsed. He didn't know what Horst's suturing skills were, but judging from his superb butchering skills, his medical skills were probably not much different.

It didn't help, as the blood soon stained the bandages and his clothes, and began to slide along the rough fabric of the coat to the ground, shattering into pieces.

Tujia gripped his gun tightly and struggled to put his thumb on the hammer. It took him several attempts before he lowered the hammer.

He asked no questions, he had no energy left to speak. However, he didn't need to do this, everything was contained in his eyes.

Those hungry green eyes were staring intently at Horst's lifeless face, trying to get answers.

To get an answer that was enough to put him to rest.

Horst opened his mouth and spit out a string of strange hissing words.

At this moment, violent thunder roared in Tujia's ears.

He fell hard to the ground and heard nothing more. His gun flew out of his hand and skidded far across the tiles. Severe pain overwhelmed him like a wave, but Tujia only thought about his gun.

This will definitely leave scratches. he thought ruefully.

——

"He's brave. But it's so funny," Horst said.

"What's so interesting?" asked another person, his voice very cold.

Horst folded his hands indifferently, leaned against the wall of the church bell tower and shrugged. The night wind blew by, and the smell of blood had completely disappeared.

"You know, what else could it be? Just lamenting the endless coincidences."

"What coincidence?" the man asked again.

"Really? Do you really want to keep asking questions like this, knowingly?" Horst asked.

With a cold smile, a giant walked out of the darkness.

He was wearing a set of exquisite power armor, mainly black, with deliberately left silver lightning that jumped like a living thing, extremely conspicuous. A bright yellow ferocious bat wing reflected the night on the left shoulder armor, and a black blood-stained sharp blade was engraved on the right shoulder armor.

"There is never a real coincidence, Horst." The giant said. "This fragment has spent eleven years peacefully under your care, but it happened to become active the moment this investigator set foot on Litatra."

"And those who are chasing him and know his whereabouts very well." Horst narrowed his eyes and reminded him.

He seemed to have something else to say, but the giant shook his head and knew clearly what he had hidden.

"As soon as you sent the signal, we came. And now, we are still in the shadows."

As he spoke, he retreated into the darkness.

"Keep watching, Horst. Let the investigator find out everything himself. He has the right to know the truth. Besides, I don't want to alert the enemy."

"As you wish, sir." Horst said.

No more answers came from the darkness.

Horst didn't care, just looked into the distance, raised his right hand and waited.

After the first beam of light appeared on the horizon of Litatra, he waved his hand and rang the bell. The heavy bell sound drifted away with the rising fish belly white, spreading continuously in the low-rise building community, announcing the dawn of the next day.

And outside the church, there was no corpse.

Horst lowered his head and loosened his right hand. A piece of gray paper that was used to wrap candy trembled slightly in his hand. With the light of the early morning, he clearly saw the line of crudely printed small words.

[The glory of dawn is a gift from the Emperor. Without Him, mankind will only be trapped in darkness forever. Remember this, citizens! ]