40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 50 50. Gift (1)

"How did he learn?"

"Very good." Fulgrim replied with a smile. "Actually, Ferus, it's very good!"

"Yeah?"

Ferrus Manus took a moment to raise his head during a break in his work and glanced at the Chemos.

The latter's violet eyes were sparkling, obviously happy about this. Gorgon shook his head helplessly, not understanding how his emotions fluctuated throughout the day.

"Of course, of course!" Fulgrim finally couldn't help laughing. "I'd love to tell you how smart he is, but—"

He shrugged and stood up cheerfully. "——Excuse me, I have to prepare lessons, Ferus."

".I have some objections to your use of the word smart to describe him." Ferrus Manus lowered his head and said.

He was bent over his workbench, working on something. The preliminary work of forging has been completed, and the next thing to do is very simple. He only needs to carve some patterns on the sword body, and then make a matching hilt.

But he wasn't so sure the sword's owner would like it.

"How can you say that!"

After hearing his words, Fulgrim, who was about to leave, turned around lightly, his silver hair flying in the air, and his posture was as graceful as a dance.

There was a bit of narrow-mindedness on his face - it was obvious that he actually knew that Ferus didn't mean that, but he just wanted to move the topic in that direction.

"I just think you shouldn't describe him like that. Smart is used to describe children, and Konrad Coates is obviously not a child." Ferus answered slowly.

He didn't need to look up to guess the expression on Fulgrim's face at this moment - of course it would be a lie to say he didn't care, but Ferus knew another thing better.

It would be best for him not to let Fulgrim know what he was thinking now, as this had been proven many times in the past.

"Why isn't he?"

Fulgrim leaned on the workbench and asked in an exaggerated tone. "He is only one and a half years old, Ferus, what were you doing when you were one and a half years old?"

"Kill the giant beast." Ferrus Manus replied flatly. "Kill many giant beasts,"

".I really shouldn't have asked you this question."

"You should have just left."

Ferus raised his head and said. "It's better to prepare lessons for Conrad, or talk to Luo Jia, and ask him why he has locked himself in his room for the past two days, than to disturb me here while forging a sword."

"Luojia? What happened to him?" Fulgrim frowned.

"He made a trip to Nostramo, following Dorne."

Ferrus shook his head. This sentence was enough to explain many things - what could Lorgar Aurelion do in Nostramo?

Hearing this, Fulgrim sighed involuntarily. When he spoke again, his voice became deeper.

".I really don't understand the reason." said the Chemos man. "Those arguments don't make any sense, and besides, he was..."

"It was a terrible beating."

Ferus answered calmly. "But I'm amazed at the self-control of that Khalil Lohars. If anyone spoke such nonsense about my father, or my Legion, in front of me, I would dismantle him with my warhammer."

"It's the warhammer I gave you." Fulgrim corrected and laughed.

He repeated it while laughing. "I gave you the warhammer - don't forget it, Ferus."

"."

The giant with silver arms gave a rare sigh. He straightened up, moved the sword waiting to be carved to the back, then folded his hands and shook his head seriously at Fulgrim.

"If you keep bringing this up so often, I'm going to consider changing the name of Furnace Breaker."

"Huh? Oh--okay."

The corners of the Chemos man's mouth curved downward. "It's your weapon now anyway, so if you want to change its name, I have nothing to say."

Ferus shook his head and spoke slowly: ".Do you know what I will call it?"

"What?"

"Fulgrim is an annoying nagging fellow."

"You call that a weapon's name?!"

Fulgrim shouted. "Besides - my name shouldn't appear on the weapon! Besides, where am I nagging?!"

Ferus didn't speak, just stared at him and shook his head again. This silent answer left the Chemos speechless. He raised a finger angrily: "Okay, Ferus, so that's how you see me!"

Ferrus Manus finally sighed.

He raised his head and let his gaze pass beyond Fulgrim and fall on a giant who walked in from the sliding door. Then, he nodded slightly and greeted in a short voice.

"Dorn."

"Ferrus—and Fulgrim."

Rogal Dorn approached expressionlessly. He changed into a long-sleeved top again, but still buttoned all the buttons. He remained as serious as ever.

"Ah, Rogge! Come and help me judge!"

".No." Rogal Dorn shook his head.

"What? I haven't said what it is!"

"I don't want to get involved in the quarrel between you two." Rogal Dorn said expressionlessly.

"I won't do that again. You always quarrel for some inexplicable reasons, and if someone really intends to judge you as you said, you will start to speak for each other. In short, I won't do that." He shook his head and repeated in a firm tone. "I won't do that, Fulgrim." ".Why are you like this?" Fulgrim asked in disbelief. However, neither the person he asked nor Ferrus Manus paid any attention to the Chemos at this moment. Dorn turned his head and glanced at the blade placed behind Ferrus. His eyes swept carefully over the silver sword, and then nodded. "Good sword, have you installed the decomposition field?" "Yes." "Then it just needs some decoration." Dorn nodded, not hiding his satisfaction with the sword. "Your skills are still as superb as ever, Ferrus." "It's just a hobby in my spare time." Ferrus Manus said without comment. "At least it's far worse than Vulkan."

"What he does is not called forging."

Dorn answered calmly. "His definition of forging is simply challenging my understanding of the matter."

A fleeting smile flashed across Ferrus's face, and he agreed with what Dorn said - it was true. Why should he deny it?

Although their brother Vulkan was skilled in forging, his skills had surpassed everyone. Ferrus felt that perhaps only their father dared to say that he could match Vulkan in this regard.

"So, Ferrus, when are you going to give this sword to our brother?" Rogal Dorn asked.

He stood in front of the workbench with his back straight. This posture made him look like an official questioning a prisoner instead of asking about something intimate.

"I'm still hesitating."

Ferrus shook his head, not caring about his brother's attitude. "In fact, I'm even a little unsure whether to give him a sword now."

Rogal Dorn frowned sharply.

"You have almost finished the sword, why did you decide not to give it to him?"

"Because I don't know if he will like it." Ferrus said so. "It is obvious that our brother is imitating his adoptive father-"

"-partner." Fulgrim interrupted, looking very dissatisfied, but not at Konrad Curze's "partner".

He folded his hands and snorted coldly: "I can't believe that you two left me here for five minutes."

Dorn turned his head to look at him, and then turned his head back: "I agree with you, but if you don't ask him, how do you know if he will like it?"

"Because, it is obvious that he is imitating his adoptive father-or partner." Ferrus frowned and repeated his words again.

For a craftsman like him, he must be picky about every work. Without this attitude, he would not be able to reach this point in forging.

If he wants to make a sword, he will consider the weight, the height and arm length of the user, and all kinds of factors.

Although this power sword is not yet completed, it has been adjusted according to the data he asked from Fulgrim.

Ferrus Manus wanted to make a weapon that his new brother would like, but there was a more serious problem in front of him than whether the weight and balance of the blade were perfect.

-- Conrad Curze was obviously imitating Caryl Rohars.

Although Ferrus didn't know much about the latter, he could see this from some clues.

And Caryl Rohars was definitely not a person who was good at wielding a blade.

Every movement he made after approaching Lorgar that day was mixed with strong traces of short-handed wielding, swift, sharp, and deadly. However, in just a few moves, Lorgar was knocked to the ground.

Caryl Rohars even instinctively wanted to add a stab to the throat after Lorgar fell to the ground - Ferrus saw it clearly and would never make a mistake about this.

"Ahem."

"In that case, why don't we go ask him." Dorn said calmly. "Guessing can only give a specious answer, which may even be a thousand miles away from the correct answer."

"Ahem!"

"You're right." Ferrus Manus nodded and walked out of the workbench. "It's better to ask him directly whether he likes it than to speculate here."

"Ahem!"

"Does your throat hurt, Fulgrim?" Rog Dorn asked.

". I feel uncomfortable all over!" Fulgrim roared, turned around and left. Behind him, Ferrus Manus slowly extended his right hand to Rog Dorn.

After a moment, the two hands slowly clasped.

"Ancient etiquette." Dorn said calmly.

"Ancient, but effective." Ferrus also nodded calmly. "Let's go, Rog."

Seeing that many readers are still asking about the release time, this book will be released on July 1, and it is still in the archives.

Asking for votes, comments, and by the way, asking if there are any ergonomic chair recommendations ()