40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 525 43. Records of the Warband Era (IV, Wolves on Fenris, 6k)

The poet stood up slowly.

The fire in the middle of the woods illuminated his profile, and also made his shrunken eyelids visible. He was tall, but also very thin, wearing a thick cotton coat and a plush felt hat, dressed like an old man.

But if you look closely, you will find that he is not old at all, and his face can even be considered young. But the old look really spread from the depths of his bones, making him look old and gloomy.

"What are you looking at, blind man?" asked a warrior beside the fire.

His dark red hair was not groomed at all, and it was draped behind his head in a mess, like sideburns. Not to mention the beard, which was almost all knotted on his chin and face. Food residues and "treasures" such as wine were hidden inside.

In contrast to this honor was his armor. Although the power armor could not be said to be as bright as new, it was also carefully cared for. The fur cape and tooth ornaments were hung in the right place, adding a bit of grace to its owner even though he was lying on the ground without any image.

"You should know that you can't see, right?" The warrior grinned and asked in a very frivolous tone.

His behavior attracted the cold gaze of another person beside the fire. He stood up slowly, and his hand even pressed on a knife at his waist.

"Oh"

The red-haired warrior raised half an eyebrow, winked and stood up from the ground, but did not draw his knife. Instead, he walked to his companion and patted him on the shoulder.

"Why are you flattering him so hard, Ragnar Thunderfist?"

Thunderfist did not answer, so he began to chatter.

"Will this talkative blind man give you any benefit? Everyone knows that he does not do his job every day, but just writes books and tells stories endlessly, but none of these stories are true. Only Chief Bjorn is willing to treat him as a brother." He approached Ragnar Thunderfist, blinked at the latter's coldness, and did not forget to lower his voice: "Also, you should know that he is not a wolf, right?" A cold light flashed, and the throat of the red-haired warrior was pressed against a sharp knife. The young Thunderfist Bloodclaw hissed and barked at the red-haired warrior with his furious face, and his voice became more and more manic in the cold wind. "You insulted the lone wolf!" "I didn't." The red-haired warrior raised his hands quite seriously, contrary to his previous frivolousness, and there was no smile on his face. "I would never do such a thing. I am a clown and a fool, but I am definitely not ignorant and disrespectful, Thunderfist." "Put down the knife, Ragnar." said the blind man. He was still looking at the sky, the flames dancing on his body, but his whole expression had become very worried for some reason.

The next second, he quickly turned around, picked up a long wooden stick from the fire, and limped to the other side of the fire with it, picked up a huge and heavy backpack from the ground, and put it on his back.

The snow sank, and the forest ground that had long been frozen into ice bricks actually made a slight cracking sound at this moment. The two young wolves looked at each other, picked up their weapons at the same time, and walked to the blind man.

"What's going on, blind man?" Lucas asked softly, and asked an old proverb. "What is it that is causing trouble in the dark?"

"It's your mother." The 'blind man' cursed back rudely. "If you call me a blind man again, I'll make you crawl back to your lair, Lucas."

"A satellite crash? Or a ship shot down?"

Ragnar Thunderfist gave two other guesses, and the long sword in his hand, which was engraved with Fenris's exorcism runes, was reflecting the extremely cold night light.

The sky filled with aurora was changing endlessly, but the two meteors were unusually conspicuous, as if they were the disaster stars that tore through the sky and fell straight to the other side of Fenris.

"Neither." The blind man said briefly. "Ragnar, you come with me, we have to get on the road. Lucas, you run back to the lair and tell Bjorn and the wolf leader that we have visitors, honored guests."

"Why me?" Lucas asked.

The blind man did not answer, but made a gesture in front of his chest. So the red-haired playboy immediately restrained his joking heart, he returned to seriousness, turned around and left with an axe in one hand and a pistol in the other, but still did not forget to howl under the moonlight.

"I know my mistakes and I will correct them!" Ragnar looked at him going away and snorted. He stepped forward to catch up with the blind man who was lame but still walking fast, and asked another question. "Why do we have to take him with us, poet? He is simply a born bastard." "Lucas does have some cynical characteristics, but that doesn't mean he is not one of you, Ragnar. He is also a wild wolf, and he is very qualified." The blind man's answer made Ragnar a little unbelievable. He sniffed the smell in the forest and spoke in a low voice. "But he... He has been here with you for fourteen years, poet. He has no talent to be a warrior at all." "Who told you this?" The blind poet asked without turning his head. ". I won't tell on you."

"It's up to you, Ragnar. But I want to tell you one thing, Lucas is not only a warrior, but also a very ferocious warrior. His long stay here does not mean that he is unqualified. The actual situation is actually the opposite. I have too many things to teach him, so he stayed so long."

Ragnar groaned silently, as if someone had broken his nose with a punch, and he looked extremely painful. His face was twitching constantly, and he obviously didn't expect to get such an answer.

But the poet's words did not end there. He continued: "Don't envy him, and you are the same. Your wolf lord handed you to me because he has high expectations of you. Don't let him down, otherwise you will definitely die in shame."

He finally turned his head, his side face gleaming in the moonlight, and the fire had long been extinguished in the cold wind.

"Believe me." He said in a low voice. "No one wants to die in shame and grief."

Then, there was no conversation along the way. They walked out of the woods and onto the snowy plains. Dangerous beasts and ferocious top predators watched them go away with eager eyes, and rarely attacked them, as if they were also absorbed by the two meteors that streaked across the sky.

The wind and snow became stronger, and even the young wolf began to feel a little absurd - he had experienced blizzards before, but how could it be this severe?

At this moment, the snowflakes had become blades, cruelly cutting his cheeks, and the blood was frozen into ice chips, falling on the armor and making a creaking sound. The wind was so strong that he even had to use his sword to dig deep into the snow to stabilize the shaking when walking, otherwise he would be blown down or even blown away.

The poet walked leisurely in such a terrible natural force. His wooden stick could always smoothly penetrate into the rock-hard snow, and his own steps always maintained a strange balance that was about to fall but stable as usual.

Ragnar stared at his boots and began to wonder what kind of warrior the blind man was before he became disabled. A few minutes later, his wild thoughts came to an end because the blind man stopped.

Of course, this was the main reason. In addition, there was a secondary reason, that is, a huge depression appeared in front of them.

The snow was crackling with the burning of invisible flames. The ice bricks that had not melted for years and were as hard as ceramic steel and could withstand the head-on bombing had all turned into ice water.

Two ignorant icefield elks licked the slightly melted snow beside the pit. Seeing them coming, they did not choose to run away, which was extremely contrary to common sense.

Ragnar clenched his sword and stood nervously in front of the blind man.

"Back off." The blind poet shouted coldly. "You can't even see where the enemy is, and you are still standing in front of me with a sword like a fool?"

Ragnar was slightly stunned, his nose twitched twice, and then he turned back suddenly, and the sword in his hand pierced the wind and snow, accurately hitting an outstretched palm.

Two dark red lights suddenly lit up in the snowstorm, and a voice that was thousands of times colder than them, as if it came from Mokay himself, resounded in Ragnar's ears.

"Your wolf needs to be polished, Lord Ahriman"

"Everyone needs to be polished."

Azek Ahriman, the Space Wolf Bard, also known as the Blind Man or the Blind Poet, answered this sentence calmly.

Then he stretched out his long staff and patted the sword that Ragnar still held tightly.

"Can you let him go?" he asked. "You also know that wolves are always reckless and unrestrained. They are very different from you, respected soul hunter."

As soon as the voice fell, the huge force that had always come from the tip of Ragnar's sword finally disappeared at this moment. The young Blood Claw immediately suppressed the manic impulse in his bones, sheathed the sword, and stood behind Ahriman.

He stared at the giant who was gradually emerging in the snowstorm without saying a word, and his heart was full of shock. He was very sharp, all wild wolves were very sharp. However, he didn't notice this person approaching him just now.

This means that if he had hostility, he would have died many times.

I can die, but the blind man must not be harmed. Ragnar thought angrily. Otherwise, it would be a betrayal of the blood of Russ and Bjorn.

"Why scold me?" The hunter replied, with scriptures all over his body flapping his armor in the wind and snow, but there was no sign of leaving.

"I took action temporarily because of a reason. I have no ill will towards him. In fact, I was protecting him, Lord Ahriman. If it weren't for me, he would probably have been seriously injured."

What does it mean? Ragnar frowned, but suddenly felt a sense of disharmony.

He looked around and realized where this disharmony came from-the wind and snow around him stopped for some reason. And it didn't stop, they stayed in place as if time was stagnant.

At this moment, even the wind has its own shape, and the ice spikes that are blown away are the direction they are about to go.

The young Blood Claw twitched his nostrils anxiously, smelling a very strong smell of blood coming from behind him, but he couldn't turn his head, and he couldn't even move his eyes.

He stared closely at the ice spikes that were about to fly, and through the reflection of the aurora shining on them, he saw a pair of dark eyes stuck in the dense white bones. Its owner was wearing a black robe and was a skeleton that was definitely tall among ordinary people.

It was staring at him without blinking.

Ragnar didn't know what to do, and his mind was frozen. At the critical moment, it was a force from his right shoulder that flipped him to the ground.

Bloodclaw fell heavily to the ground, and happened to see the blind man's retracted hand, filled with astonishment. Before he could say anything, he saw the blind man who had been telling stories to the wolves for ten thousand years bow his head deeply.

"Thousand Sons, Azek Ahriman, scion of the Crimson King Magnus salutes you, Great Darkness."

".It doesn't have to be this way."

The skeleton known as the Great Dark took a long time to give his answer, and his voice was hoarse like a ghost in the dark night.

Bloodclaw tightened his grip on his sword, never more eager for the apotropaic charm to work.

A force came from his shoulders and pulled him up. After that, the Astartes known as the hunter gently stretched out his right hand, hugged him, and then patted his cheek. .

A chill came from his gauntlet, almost freezing Ragna to death, but it also completely awakened his mind.

He bared his teeth and glared at the man. The hunter returned his calm gaze and nodded slightly to him.

"You will be honored by this," he said. "Although you don't know who you are standing next to yet."

"Who? You? A hidden villain?" Ragnar laughed angrily, so provocative. "I don't think you would bring me any glory even if I slit your neck."

The hunter chuckled under his helmet, let go of his hand, and sent Ragnar to Ahriman.

At the same time, dazzling searchlights came from the sky, and a fighter plane suddenly broke through the stagnant snow and appeared in front of them.

The face of red-haired Lucas loomed behind the wide-open cabin door, but Ragna paid no attention to him. His attention has been completely attracted by a strong figure standing in front of the cabin.

The man was wearing a heavy cloak, with all his power armor buried under it. He had white hair, and an animal fang pendant jingled in the beard. His eyes contained some kind of Ragnar's fundamental understanding. Strong emotions that I don’t understand.

He jumped off the fighter plane, fell vertically from a height of more than ten meters, stirred up a puddle of deep snow, and ran towards here.

——

"Chapter Master!" Orak Cartax roared. "You must come back to continue the ritual!"

"Screw your ritual!" Severita cursed. "I've lost all my old antiques at home, so why are you still doing this ritual? Notify the whole ship to get ready, and ask all chapter leaders to gather at my place! I'll only give them five minutes, no one will wait if they are late!"

He ran wildly, his body wrapped only in a white sheet covered with blood. The light of psychic energy penetrated from under his skin, illuminating the darkness in the corridor.

All the Night Blades watched with astonishment as their chapter leader ran past. Just as they were about to follow him, they were pinned to the spot by the cold command of the head of the think tank.

"The Chapter Master is delirious right now, don't listen to him!"

"You are fucking insane!" Savita turned around and once again shouted insults at the think tank director whom he was very optimistic about. "I think you've lost your mind, Orak! Am I going to lose my mind? I've never been so clear in my life!"

Seconds later, they burst into an office. Savita waved his hand without panting, and a huge amount of psychic energy poured out from the tips of his fingers. He put all the files around him back into place, and even the data pads were stacked and returned to a corner of the room.

Orak stood behind him, his blood-stained hands still trembling slightly, still holding the spell gesture stubbornly, unwilling to interrupt the ceremony.

"This ceremony is very important, Chapter Master!" he shouted anxiously. "If you give up halfway, it will have a great impact on you! This is what the mourning bird himself said!"

"For the sake of Fel Zalost, then let them come here and do it for me!" Sevita roared angrily. "I'll give you five minutes!"

Without saying a word, Orak was immediately distracted from communicating with the Night No., and darkness surged. The other four think tanks walked out carrying the light of psychic energy, surrounded Savita, and began to smear characters on his body with blood.

While enduring the burning pain caused by these words, the Chapter Master of Night Blade turned his head and roared again at the corridor outside.

"Four minutes left!"

His voice made the Night Veil tremble, and the readings increased again. It is foreseeable that tonight will definitely become a nightmare night for the sailors on the Night Veil.

Two minutes later, Caiul Sahoura, Scaladric and Sheikh Lenghun all arrived, all fully armed.

Especially the Lord of the Crimson Claw. He has a murderous look on his face and holds two giant axes in his hands. He looks like he wants to tear someone or something to pieces in the next second.

"The instructor ran away," Savita said simply. "And the hunter is among them. It's obvious that this mystical bastard has done something without telling us. I don't blame him, but I have to blame myself!"

He took a deep breath and spoke again.

"The matter has come to this, there is nothing more to say. I know the instructor's character well. He will only go alone like this when he decides to do something dangerous."

"If the notice continues, I want every child of the night to be ready for a full-scale war. I don't know what the instructor is going to do, but we will follow him, understand? What we failed to accomplish ten thousand years ago, It will never happen again in ten thousand years! In the name of Konrad Coze, we will fight until we die!"

No one answered, only three faces with different expressions, but all extremely serious.

Sevatar's orders began to be passed on between the ship broadcasts. This fleet, which was considered medium-sized in 30K, was immediately filled with a murderous atmosphere. Although most of the ships were brought by the Blade of Judgment, they were also the Sons of the Night.

The gloomy Gothic architecture and the presence of the church made the warship look like Nostramo floating in space. The anger of the black-eyed people was about to sweep the entire galaxy.

Until a voice came from the door of the room. It was a mortal voice, and it even seemed a little short of breath.

"Uh" The redresser Tujiea took a deep breath and pulled his cloak. "This, Larhe, said it has something to say to you, Captain Sevatar."

Sevatar stared at him for two seconds, strode forward surrounded by think tanks, and reached out to grab Larhe's silky surface.

It immediately danced, but did not leave Tujiea, and did not even absorb Sevatar's blood. A few seconds later, Yago Sevatarion's face gradually became weird.

He closed his eyes, let out a long breath, and then took another deep breath, then loosened his hand, but suddenly grabbed Tujie's shoulder. He controlled the strength very well, and only pulled him over, but he didn't feel any pain.

"Tell this bastard why it didn't tell me earlier?" Sevatar asked in a rough voice.

Tujie immediately did it and relayed the words. The cloak fluttered in the next second, looking extremely excited.

"What did it say?" Sevatar asked.

Tujie was silent for a few seconds and replied: "It said you are an idiot, Chapter Master."

"Tell it, I will stuff it into the stinking ditch of the people of Fenris!"

The Wrong Man coughed twice and did it again. This time, the cloak stood up furiously, wrapped him completely from behind, forming a hideous armor that looked 50% similar to the one someone wore ten thousand years ago.

Sevatar sneered and pushed Tujie into the corridor with his backhand.

"It's your misfortune to have it, the Equalizer!" he shouted. "You will know how annoying this guy is! Goodbye!"

Darkness surged, completely enveloping Tuja and Larhe, who were full of shock and confusion, and sent them to the other end of the Nightfall. At this moment, Yago Sevitarion couldn't help laughing out loud.

"Captain, are you really insane?" The Librarian asked worriedly.

"No." Sevitar said. "I just remembered some very interesting things, which are generally good."

He turned around and said to the three captains: "Cancel the war alert, then select elite personnel, put on Terminator armor, take the company flag, and assemble on the boarding deck of the Nightfall. We have to meet the Space Wolves."

The three looked at each other.

Sevitar sighed, covered his face, and fell on the chair he had sat on for 10,000 years.

"Farce." He commented in Nostramo.

Five seconds later, someone chuckled in the darkness.

"Sai, this is not a farce. Although I understand your tiredness, from now on, those who really know him will know that Caryl Rohals is back. Isn't this very memorable?"

Sevatar raised his head suddenly and found that the office, the chapter leader and his think tanks had completely disappeared, leaving only pure darkness and the Night King standing in front of him.

". No, I don't see any commemorative significance."

Conrad Curze smiled and answered softly.

"Yeah, I can't see it either, but he is always moving in a good direction, that's enough. You haven't seen Caryl Rohals out of control, but believe me, there will be no second person in the world who is more cruel than him at that time. Revenge never makes any sense."

"Is he not out of control now?" Sevatar asked sincerely. "Are you serious, father?"

"No." The Night King said. "He is even quite rational."

The darkness dissipated, Sevatar narrowed his eyes in silence, and suddenly said to his think tank director: "Do you want to hear a joke?"

He received a worried sigh.