40k: Midnight Blade

Chapter 542 60. Primitive Fear (4, Church and Altar)

There is the Emperor's chapel aboard the Macragge's Glory.

In other words, the God Emperor.

Robert Guilliman could still remember how reluctant he was that day to place a last resort safety device on his ship, which itself was not safe.

At that time, the power of faith was not widely proven, and, frankly, Guilliman's impression of gods and religion was surprisingly bad.

More than one night he would write with resentment against them. He bound these words into a book and put it in the corner of his desk, waiting for someone else to publish it one day.

In his view, these ancient poisons from the human past killed many of his brothers, forced his father to lose himself, and caused his friend Khalil Lohars to suffer.

But Marius Gage convinced him, as always.

"We were all on Terra, Primarch," Gage said.

His eyes were calm at that time, glowing with an unspeakable coldness under the iron-gray sky, which Guilliman would never forget for the rest of his life.

"We have all witnessed with our own eyes the divine punishments imposed by the furious gods. We have also seen many things that science and even spiritual power cannot explain. In fact, my lord, I think that blindly rejecting faith is not a good thing for Ultramar. . Is it wrong to make the best use of everything? As the Lord of Steel said, dark times have come, and we need torches. ”

Because of his advice, Guilliman reluctantly agreed to the proposal of the Ecclesiarchs from afar, and allowed these beaming devout men to build a chapel atop Macragge's Glory.

Then, in the fourth year after Gage's death, his statement about making the best use of everything was fully accepted by Guilliman, the church was expanded, and the beliefs of the Ecclesiastical Church were quickly promoted to everyone within the territory of Ultramar. A world.

People accepted the fact that the Emperor was actually a god very quickly, as if they had already thought so. Guilliman put away his works on religious criticism and began to reform religion.

Yes, he embraced the Ecclesiarchy and their priests, and even allowed them to preach within Ultraman, but that didn't mean he didn't have a problem with some of it - in fact, he had a problem with almost everything. Opinion.

For example, there is a chapter in the classics that portrays him and his brothers as gods, and another example is that there is not a word about Khalil Lohars in the entire chapter.

He even wanted to go to Terra to question Malcador about this matter, but later gave up.

To be fair, he was quite emotionally unstable during those years.

Now, it's different.

Robert Guilliman looked at his bright white eyes and gray hair staring back at him through the reflection of the sword's blade, and he remembered this aged appearance in his mind.

Then he swung his sword.

With just one sword strike, he cut through the hard alloy and the stiff gear stuck in it, completely splitting the carved door into two parts that could no longer be opened due to the loss of energy.

His power has not diminished with time, nor has his skill. Aging was certainly a fact of life for the Primarch, but he was still Robert Guilliman.

He is fearless.

The ever-victorious troops rushed into the church from behind him, fully armed, and they quickly completely occupied the expanded church, which became very vast, like a sword cutting through the sea.

Guilliman was also one of these swords, and he was not surprised at all by the bloody scene inside the church, as if the priests and believers who were torn apart did not exist. It's as bright as new here and everything is fine.

Of course this was not the case. Aldaros, the victorious warrior, could see his terrifying anger in the burning eyes of his original body, so he sheathed his sword and walked to Guilliman.

"What to do, Primarch?"

Guilliman did not answer for the time being, but made a tactical gesture, which was meant to observe and summarize.

He held the sword and stepped forward to the piece of minced meat, and then squatted down as if it was not enough, and began to observe more carefully the corpses with dead eyes and faces full of fear.

Odalos' eyes followed his original body closely. At first, his attention was only on Guilliman, but after only two seconds, he also discovered something was wrong.

All the corpses had lost part of their skulls, and the bones were missing neatly. The wound was either on the top of the head or on the side.

The wounds were generally not large, but upon peering in from the gap, Audaros discovered that part of the brains of all the deceased had disappeared.

His logical thinking ability quickly connected this series of details and finally formed a conclusion.

Robert Guilliman stood up and confided it coldly.

"One of those things evolved," he said coldly, his choice of words making the victors slightly uneasy.

"Obviously, the beast that once committed the murder here has broken away from the state of being controlled by primitive instincts. Judging from Seral's autopsy report, this beast's greed for flesh and blood is no longer strong. .In other words——"

He showed a smile, which was wrapped in wrinkles, murderous intent and beard, but it was still shocking.

"—It's becoming picky about food." Robert Guilliman said softly.

He thought that his current appearance would probably surprise many people.

"But why does it only eat brains?" Odalus kept up with his primarch, his eyebrows furrowed behind his helmet.

"I don't know, Odalos. If you look at the taste alone, the best part of a human body is obviously not the brain." Guilliman replied in a special tone.

"So let's think a little bit further and say that it only eats brains because it needs certain media stored in the human brain. Memories, emotions or ways of thinking, I don't know what exactly it needs, but I’m too lazy to analyze it anymore.”

He waved his right hand resolutely.

"By burning the bodies, we are unable to bury them, but at least we can prevent their remains from continuing to remain in such a desecrated state."

After a few seconds, the promethium flame began to burn.

Guilliman stared at the dead until they were completely turned into ashes before ending his silence. He issued several more orders, such as relying on the area to be fortified, bringing surviving civilians and crew members to take refuge, and establishing defensive measures.

They are all simple tasks. Even if he doesn't say it, the victorious soldiers will do it. Their tactical skills are impeccable, and their pride as Ultramar nobles will never allow them to watch mortals sink in disaster.

Therefore, Odalus easily read the true hidden purpose in his primarch's actions.

"How long do you need?" Chang Shengjun asked.

"Five minutes," Guilliman said.

What he said was true. When the last of the Victorious Army walked out of the church door and disappeared at both ends of the corridor, Robert Guilliman also stepped onto the bloodstained pulpit.

The statue of his father stands under stained glass, eyes closed in a golden surround, holding a scale in his left hand and a sword in his right.

The original body spent more than ten seconds staring at this man-made statue, with thoughts in his mind that no one could understand.

Then he raised his hand and smashed the scales in the hands of the statue, which was the same height as himself, with his fist. His blow was extremely precise, completely destroying the scale and causing the gold and silver object to fall to the ground, but it did not damage the statue's left hand at all.

Logically speaking, when the scale fell, the left hand of the statue should be empty, but this was not the case. Instead, a shining black fragment lay in the palm of the statue.

Guilliman reached out and took it off, looking into the eyes of the statue.

Now, the eyelids made of stone are no longer closed tightly, replaced by a pair of eyes made of gems. Under the influence of light, they showed a pale to almost transparent blue, and the original body could even see his own reflection in them.

He stood there, staring into his own eyes through the eyes of his idolized father, slowly grasped the fragment, and uttered a hissing word.

It is not High Gothic or Low Gothic, nor is it any dialect within the five hundred worlds of Ultramar. It originates from an older world called Nostramo.

This sentence means: I am calling here.

The church began to tremble, then boil. Standing on the pulpit, Guilliman turned around. The ground was burning and transforming under his sight, as if the stone bricks had been treated this way because of his power.

Soon, in less than ten seconds, the entire church floor underwent a complete change, from an ancient stone with names engraved on it to a charred aggregate.

There are many lines on their surface, each one looks straight and sharp, and is emitting dark red light. Guilliman looked down at the fragment in his hand and gently threw it away.

This fragment fell into the light in a perfect parabola. It did not have the properties of supporting combustion, but it made the light become extremely strong in an instant, as if there was a dark red burning sun on the church floor. The bottom rises slowly.

The air began to tremble, and a 'feeling' that far exceeded feelings penetrated from the original's power armor, piercing every carefully designed armor plate, bypassing reliable defense systems, and making Robert Guilliman feel it. An extremely intense cold.

And his eyes were still calm, as if he knew what was going to happen here early on.

He stood there indifferently, with his hands on the pulpit and his back to the sacred statue, just like a priest from the state church.

Then, suddenly, something changed.

Even as a Primarch, it was difficult for Guilliman to describe this change in detailed language, but he no longer had to care about these things.

Because the darkness is coming.

Among them the dead sang, murmured, and recited hissing verses, announcing the arrival of a god in the language of poets and murderers alike.

"I'm not a god," said Khalil Lohars.

He was really standing here, wearing a simple black robe suitable for traveling, and he seemed a little annoyed. What he had just spoken was addressed to the darkness that gathered at his feet, and Guilliman heard their approval and continued chanting.

He suppressed his laughter and walked towards Khalil.

At first, he wanted to shake hands, then he wanted to hug. By the end, he abandoned both options and just smiled. It had been many years since he had laughed so heartily, and many things had made him lose the ability to smile freely.

He must be responsible for every people in the five hundred worlds. However, under the threats of swarms, demons and aliens, this has become difficult. Although there are many people who can help him, they are not him after all, and they cannot experience the overwhelming feeling.

It's probably different now.

Guilliman looked down at the familiar yet unfamiliar person in front of him and greeted him: "To be honest, I think you have lost weight."

Khalil smiled at his words.

"Nice joke, Robert."

He patted the original's forearm armor, then took a step back, bent down and picked up a black fragment. It was held in his hand, and it disappeared completely in the blink of an eye. It sank into the palm of his hand and disappeared completely like a stone sinking into the ocean.

Guilliman remained silent about this matter, but could not remain silent about what happened next - he suddenly felt a high temperature, and this was not the temperature of those dark red lights.

They were cold fires, unable to cause enough pain to cause a primarch to feel searing pain.

Guilliman frowned deeply. He wanted to ask a question, but the high temperature only existed for a moment and soon dissipated completely. Khalil raised his hand and touched his cheek, a faint smile bloomed on his face.

The original body noticed that there were light-colored blood vessels beating on the back of his raised right hand. They should not be so active, at least not when the owner of the body was not performing strenuous activities.

Guilliman stared at them until the blood vessels were completely filled with blood and became swollen before he looked away.

"Now I have to ask, what happened?"

"I have blood," Khalil said. "A heart, and blood vessels throughout the body, and of course, body temperature."

Guilliman looked at him with an indescribable expression.

"Oh, come on, Robert. You and I both know what I've become, and this is a different kind of procedure, where I'm the patient, I'm the doctor, I'm still the one suturing the wound - so, let's Let’s get down to business.”

He stopped smiling and lowered his hands. Two gleaming sharp knives slipped out of the wide cuffs and were held in his hands.

——

Cato Sicarius opened his eyes and heard someone crying.

"Don't move." Pharmacist Seral warned in a low voice. "Hold your breath."

The young scout did as he was told, and amid the tingling pain and tingling caused by his self-healing ability, he found that they were on a high platform.

The battle-brothers of the Fourth Company held their weapons in silence while his protector crouched behind the steel walls of the dais with a combat knife, staring down.

Sicarius reluctantly rolled his eyes and looked down. After a few seconds, he realized that this was a lecture hall and it was full of civilians.

They were weeping and surrounded a tall giant. This man was wrapped in white robes, his face was calm, and his blue eyes were shining under his blond hair.

"My people—" he spoke loudly.

Sicarius heard his teeth chattering.